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<center>Whispers on the Wind</center>
I knew it was coming, of course. I always knew. You see, I have this theory that every human goes mad sooner or later, and the only ones that escape that fate are those that die untimely. Not much of a trade, really. So, yeah, I knew it was coming. But I had no idea it would come so early...
It started last night. I was trying to get to sleep – it had been a hard day at the store, and the morrow promised no less. I tossed and turned for hours, before finally falling out of bed onto the cold, hard boards. I almost cried – I had been denied rest for weeks. Ever since I came to Doma, in fact. Each night I would finally fall into oblivion with but an hour left ‘til dawn. It didn’t make sense – why would the powers deny me much needed rest?
The wind outside suddenly picked up, and out of nowhere a voice spoke into my head. A kind, gentle, warm voice. When I say “warm†I really mean it – pleasant waves of heat rolled over my body as it spoke, lulling me into a state of drowsiness.
The powers have forsaken you... They do not want you. Poor child. Poor, poor child.
Why do they not want me? I thought. What have I done to anger them?
Worry not, dear child. You are my ward now. The voice chuckled. I shall look after you.
I nodded mutely, unsure what to say.
I shall tell you, dear child, why your sleep is troubled. It is Blaze that does this to you.
What!? But he’s my brother! He would never -
He is not your brother. The voice cut in. He is an impostor. He slew your brother and stole his identity. Why do you think he cannot remember his past? He does this to you in the hopes that you will leave.
Very well. I thought. It matters not. I shall leave. There is nothing for me here anyway.
You must not. You are destined to do important work here. The only way to get the rest you so desperately need is to slay the impostor.
I argued with the voice ‘til dawn. But always it made clear that there was only one solution. And how could such a pleasant voice be playing me false? In a trance-like state I rose, dressed, and picked up my dagger. Leaving the inn, I stumbled along the street, my mind full of thick warm fog. I couldn't remember why I was doing this - I only knew that I had to.
'Yer look mighty unnatural, kiddo.' The voice came from an old man, his clothing torn and bedraggled; his hair a mess; his eyes wild. 'Yer not walking like man. Yer walking like one of them thar zombies, kiddo. Yer a zoooombie!' He giggled, and clutched at my arm.
I shrugged him off, and hurried on. I had a purpose - I knew what I must do, and nothing would stop me. But...a zombie? An ember of doubt descended into the depths of my mind, where it flickered dully before being drowned in the sea of fog.
I left the city as it was beginning to rise to the new day, and headed for the nearby forest where Blaze had his home. Once there I didn’t follow the path, instead instinctively cutting through the forest, straight as an arrow.
I don’t know what got in my way, but something did. I tripped and fell, rolling painfully into a ditch and coming to rest against an exposed tree root. With a jolt I became fully aware of where I was, as though I had stepped out of a patch of fog. And I also realised the full horror of what I had been intending to do.
My body struggled to rise, though I had not willed it to do so. My hand still clutched the dagger in a death grip. I fought with myself for supremacy, struggling for dominance against a will far greater than my own.
‘No!’ I cried out, as tears fell freely from my eyes, ‘No, I can’t do this! I won’t do this!’
Abruptly, the opposing will seemed to vanish, and I had control of my body. I could feel it returning, and knew that I had only seconds to do something.
I raised the dagger, turned it inwards, and plunged it into myself.
I fell back, my screams reverberating around the forest, yanking the dagger out of my flesh. As my blood flowed freely from the wound, my vision became blurred and my breath ragged. The last thing I remember before slipping into the void was a cry of alarm...
<center>~~~</center>
I lay now in a bed, my wound tightly bound with fresh bandages. Blaze’s wife, Fern, sat by my bed, reading a book. A winged cat was curled up at my feet.
I tried to sit up, earlier, but Fern had reached out and gently pushed me back, smiling.
‘Rest. Don’t do anything to aggravate the wound. Just ask me if you need anything.’
I nodded and closed my eyes, falling into deep thought.
What had happened seemed so stupid. Nay, it was pure madness. And yet...
...what if the voice had been telling the truth?
No. I couldn’t believe that, could I? Perhaps the voice wasn’t real – just a crazed delusion. I was going mad. I must be.
I knew it was coming, of course. I always knew. You see, I have this theory that every human goes mad sooner or later, and the only ones that escape that fate are those that die untimely. Not much of a trade, really. So, yeah, I knew it was coming. But I had no idea it would come so early...
[EDIT: Taken into account the suggestions below. Don't know if it's improved it or made it worse, but I know what I changed, so I can always edit it out.]
Edited by: [url=http://pub30.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=blazeyamatospirit>Blaze]
at: 12/29/02 1:56:21 pm
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at: 6/10/05 18:14
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