A hallucination had descended upon me.

It came in, with aggression and spite. I began to question my connection with the physical world around me, and if I truly were invisible to those who inhabited it. Such occurrences were very normal to me; almost to be expected, and they were painful when they faded away and left me alone in this place. Often I found myself watching Ki’luwani, George, and Covey continue to plant new acres of crops and hack down bamboo stalks in preparation for building more huts. To my great surprise, they relied more heavily on guns and rifles to hunt down the wild pigs and rabbits that dominated the land they worked upon. While I was grateful that my intervention had somewhat helped them in the long run; it stung far too much to see them sometimes cracking jokes with each other as they worked and argued like a team, as if I had never really existed. I found myself wishing I could start over with them, to have a fresh start where I could reintroduce myself. But how many times could someone appear as a stranger in one’s lifetime? The men appeared content for the most part, although I rarely saw Fritz with them these days, if ever. It seemed as if their group had shrunken in size, but his absence didn’t look as if it weighed down on them.

Despite me never being admitting such a thing anyone, let alone myself, their happiness irritated me beyond belief. Yet this anger was irrational, foolish, but still present deep down. I began to assume that if they had ever received the notes I had written, they had simply discarded them. The heavy cloud that had settled over me darkened, and my mind often wandered around a lot. I often had a difficult time remembering certain things. I curled up in a ball, burying my head in my lap one rainy night, waves of loneliness and rage washing over me. Ice spread from the soles of my bare feet, coating the plants and trees. My breaths were heavy and shaky. The taste of blood was rich in my mouth. I didn’t look at the snow. I cursed it. I wanted to tear out what was inside of me and have the scientists back in Jova research and preform multiple experiments on that wretched, slimy entity attached to my soul, or what was left of it. It wasn’t me.

I didn’t want it to be a part of me.

Destroy what you’ve worked so hard to keep safe. Let them fall apart. They deserve it, leaving you out here like this. You have the means to take what is yours. Turn their homes and fields into ice and make them submit to you. They would need to depend on you to survive. Heck, they need you now. They’re just too proud to admit it. And you don’t ever have to be alone again.

The temptation of having human companionship, even a means to take it by force, seemed too good to be true. They hated me regardless, so what would be the difference? But then I remembered Mary’s face when I had attacked her father. I realized how selfish I truly was. As I pushed away the memory to the back of my mind, drenched and shivering, I viciously shook my head over and over again. Instead, I slowly glanced up at the dark sky, my wet hair plastered to my face. There were no stars tonight, just one rainy week after another. At least the civilians and the Khonie would have drinking water tonight, although it made little to no difference for those still trapped in the security wards, away from their families and being worked to death.

A crunching noise caught my attention; the tree I was underneath was frozen solid, its leaves and branches stuck in time. Frustrated at the wretched sight, I bit my lip so hard blood came from the small wound dug in by my teeth. I needed to leave this place soon to retrieve those up north instead of moping and complaining, given how I still had a number of privileges that had been denied for them for years. I had to shake off these unproductive moods, although I was more than worried that a new fleet of soldiers would come and spot the village. The thought of returning to burnt human remains in a destroyed landscape a second time made me physically ill. Even George and Fritz, as stubborn as they, were aware they did not have the means or experience, let alone any trained men, to defend off several platoons of the Red Mambas.

I softly whistled for Here Boy to come with me back to the cave, who was greedily lapping up a puddle and digging holes in the mud with his hind legs. When he looked up at me, I faintly smiled at him. Distracted by a nearby chipmunk, he eagerly took off behind it as it fled, loudly barking, and I decided that he would come back in the morning. As I limped back to my abode, I found myself disgusted and enraged with myself over such thoughts. What benefit had I ever reaped from frightening those around me? Taking things was force from people was something that Baldwin did all the time. I wanted nothing to be like him. I stared at my terrifying reflection in a nearby puddle and sensed a shooting pain begin in my head.

I truly was losing my mind.

* * * * * * *

Covey became a bit more aware of my presence, my nightly visits to the village. It didn’t take me long to realize he was the one who observed me come by and flee back in the dark, so I had already messed up. Despite my worries, he seemed to never inform anyone. He at first was suspicious of the food I left for the others, examining the turtle shells I had placed in them with great detail and my muddy fingerprints. A lot of times I would spot him wandering completely alone in the woods in a deranged state of confusion and paranoia, weapon held close to him, flinching at every little thing that moved. And I quietly followed him, enjoying his unintentional company, my bare feet barely making a sound against the earth, a contrast to the loud snapping sound the worn shoes he wore because his boots were missing. I didn’t dare reveal myself to him, not even after Here Boy suddenly approached the man from behind me with a loud bark, causing him to release a high pitched scream. When he finally chuckled and let down his guard by placing his weapon on the ground, giving the dog a serious belly rub, Here Boy turned and barked again excitedly at me. I slipped further behind a tree just in time and stared at them behind my hair, startled at the sudden interaction. After a moment, when I slowly peered out again, I could hear him laughing quite hard as Here Boy began to jump on him to cover his face in kisses.

Covey grinned and looked out at the dark trees that surrounded him. “Is that your friend over there? I’m sure you have plenty of them.”

The smile that had formed on my face slowly faded away they both disappeared in the distance. And that was when I realized how much I missed him and the others, despite their rage, their fear, their distrust.

I saw things most people wouldn't dream of or fathom even if they'd tried. But it was something about this particular group of newcomers that I could not pry my own eyes away from, even after I had delivered some more supplies and scrambled back in the trees before someone would spot me. Perhaps it was the way that they dressed, or the way that they spoke and acted around George. I found myself sneaking over in the daytime, which was broke an unspoken rule I had made for myself, crawling through the bushes and behind the dense, broken tree and bamboo patches. Their voices lured me closer, but I couldn’t peace together the words that they were speaking. As I began to mentally calculate how much food I would need to bring based on the amount of new people who were now with us, my eyes fell on the individuals.

There were quite a few women than men; the tallest one held her head high, walking in several great strides, followed by a shorter one, who was sweating and complaining loudly about the heat. She kept furiously wiping her sweaty face with the back of her hand, arguing loudly with a man who was by her side. Crawling on all fours, I silently followed them to the edge of a short cliff, trying to keep up, where I peered down through the thick leaves below. I could make out the top of Fritz's head, with him speaking in a loud, confident tone to the tallest woman. She didn't seem to be too impressed by his words, arms folded and a deep set scowl in her eyes. The amusing expression on her face, to my surprise, made a slight smile fall on my face, before I slowly looked down and stared at my empty hands.

Not willing to be seen, I was ready to turn back and head into the woods, when something made me slightly turn my head to the side. One lone figure seemed to lag behind the rest of them. Her face was downcast, but she had sketchbooks curled beneath one arm. Her only arm, and her wild curls stuck out in all directions, with bits of hay and grsss in it. Her dress was torn and dirty, too big for her thin frame, which hung loosely from her body. And as soon as the woman raised her head, I saw the way that the sun seemed to kiss her freckles. Her steps were timid, slow, reluctant, as if she had already sensed the danger present in this place.

My heart stopped.

I tried to shake myself out of the hallucination that had rapidly and unexpectedly descended down heavily upon me. I fought to suppress the blinding memories that came into my mind, and I suddenly struggling to breathe due to my chest being so tight. When I finally had the strength to peek out again, she was gone with the others. The only thing left was the rhythm of the soft grasses blowing in the wind. Blindly, I stumbled out of my hiding place, my face burning, wondering if I had just witnessed was a ghost who was preparing to avenge me for the sins I had committed in the past. But they had already disappeared beyond the huts, and I was left with myself to deal with.

She, on the other hand, did not fade from my sight.

The woman in particular, while appearing worn out, resembled too closely from someone I once knew; her features were too strong for me to ignore. I stole glimpses of her working exceedingly hard in the fields, hauling large buckets of water one at time over a small hill. After days of spectaculation; I could no longer deny what I was seeing in front of my eyes a hallucination. She had the same gray eyes, the large nose, even her smile, which was quite rare, one that I had terribly missed, or believed I would never be blessed to see again. But yet, here she was, having slipped out of Baldwin's grasp. Breathing and living. Tired and broken down as I was, but alive. Alive.

Living.

Relief washed over me, then a horrible sense of guilt. And despite how badly I wanted to approach her, she was always near a group of villagers doing some form of labor, or usually around a woman with braided white hair, who looked to be quite fluent in sign language, even more than I was. The few times that she was alone, either washing clothing in a giant tub of steaming water by a river or hoeing potatoes, I could hardly mustered the courage, due the shame and guilt of how I had mistreated her the last day that we had seen each other. I knew I did not deserve her friendship after all the hell I had put her through, nor her trust after what I had done to her, and the marks on her body from the gunshot wounds that she had received served as a reminder. I knew she was most likely traumatized, and what shattered memories that she had of our friendship was most likely tainted in anger and betrayal towards me. And I had no one to blame but myself, although I yearned to take away her pain when I spotted her crying in the fields. It broke me in two, and yet I did nothing as Fritz pulled her away.

But tried as I might, I remembered my horrifying appearance. I couldn't bear her reaction to be the same of George or the others; that would've killed me. And yet, the possibility was still there, although I was pleading with the universe to not be. Yet it was inevitable. It was better to have her near me unknowingly than to leave this place because of me. I was not the same person I was before, and neither was she, given how much of a mask of her formal self she appeared to be. But the longer I watched her, the more stuck I became. I was unable to think; the anxiety of her anticipated rejection made me even less productive then before. Here Boy seemed to sense my mood, whining and nudging at my bare feet. He always followed me around, sometimes left the woods and went towards places I knew I could never step in, bringing back a dead rabbit or possum to me locked between his jaws.

But tonight, he brought me a worn satchel.

The material was scratchy and worn, probably seeing better days. With my right hand, I gently tried to clean off the sticky algae and moss that had collected on it. Here Boy released an impatient bark, and I massaged the back of his head as I usually did after receiving these gifts from him. When I looked up and saw the owner in the distance stepping into the swamp behind, my legs suddenly became weak. Having suddenly losing my sense of balance, my eyes fell on the shadow that was slowly, with small, hesitant steps, making its way towards me. Clinging onto the reeds with her one arm, she sloshed her way through the mud towards me, slightly holding up her long skirts, revealing her bare brown feet.

I tried to say her name, but could not.

Something had seized my words; the sight of her truly being alive up close tore me asunder. My throat was stuck; the millions of things that I wanted to ask her forgiveness would not come out. Not only because it had been so long since I had spoken to anybody, but because I was afraid that she would have turned away and ran off, as so many others had done. The moment her hand, which was cool and gentle to the touch, brushed against my left cheek to clear the hair out of my face, I reminisced her sweet, searching eyes. As we sank into the warm, tea colored water, I let her hand gently brush away the hot, salty rain falling on my face. She did not push away from me when I held onto her as I had initially expected, and the weight that had been upon me for weeks suddenly shattered and collapsed down upon me.

* * * * * * * *

It had begun to pour heavily outside.

A large puddle had gathered around the entrance of my cave, in which thick vines hung from above. Here Boy paused and began to shake the water out of his fur, before nuzzling next to the small bonfire I had managed to make, resting his head into his paws. I gently blew at the steaming bundle of dried grass and twigs between my fingers, the orange glow illuminating the walls of the cave. As Honda stared at the vines with great intrigue, I found my eyes lingering on her too long. When she looked back at me I immediately diverted my gaze and picked up a stick, carelessly poking it into the fireplace to push the glowing embers around at the bottom.

Honda had retrieved her soaked satchel and dumped its contents out on a rock. As she picked up five lumpy potatoes and a thick piece of bread alongside her water damaged sketchbook, she held it out to me, before plopping down next to the fireplace. Her fingernails were muddy and raw, and I noticed that she how she had a dark purple ring that surrounded her swollen left eye.

Instead of taking her food, I slowly reached out caressed her only hand into both of mine. Unable to look her in the face, I focused on the peeling, blistered skin that surrounded her knuckles, worn down by endless hours of harvesting crops and scrubbing thousands of clothes. Several angry burns traveled up her arm, some partially healed.

Thunder rumbled in the sky above, followed by a sharp wind that rustled and shook the tree branches nearby. She jumped at the sound, shrinking back, appearing quite startled by the raging elements outside, but to me they consisted of nothing but useless forms of matter that were waiting to be manipulated by the energy inside in me. They were there to only be exploited and used. Wasted and dumped away like nothing.

The sound of rain pouring had stopped, her gaze focused on the dark gray abyss outside, past the walls of twisted vines that no longer blew in the wind. A deep well of silence besides the crackling fire between us had replaced the heavy noise. Strands of her tangled hair stuck out from the faded scarf that was tied upon her head. Millions of transparent spheres of cold water were stuck in the air, trapped in time and space, floating mindlessly. When she turned her head to face me, I finally had the courage to slowly look her in the eyes. A faint blue light shone from my fingers.

Honda looked down at our hands, her eyes wet and full of bewilderment. And that was when I realized how much I had truly hurt her.

My voice was broken. "I know I do not deserve your forgiveness. But I want you to know that I will protect you, no matter what. I have failed you and every other man and woman back in Selva. But I won't ever let anyone harm you again, nor will I abandon you like I had done that day. I had left you...you to die." I buried my face against our intertwined fingers, giving her hand a warm squeeze. When I released a shaky breath, my chest and throat stung horribly. "I left you behind."

I dreaded how I could do nothing to take away her suffering. The small campfire immediately blew out, engulfing us in an empty void of darkness and cold. Our heavy breaths were the only sound in the cave. I could hear the sound of ice crawling on its wretched stone, crackling and popping. A thick layer of ice rapidly shot up from the uneven ground, encircling us in a ring. The ends of my matted hair became a white color that spread up to my roots as a strong wind wrapped around the both of us, leaving a dense white fog in the air. I sensed her hand shaking against mine.

"I am sorry," I whispered, hating my cowardly self more than anything in the world. Beads of warm blood and water trickled down my nose, traveling down to my mouth. "I am so, so very sorry."

Honda studied me again, shaking her head, attempting to spell protesting words against my calloused hand. She gently cleared a strand of hair that hung over my face, and finally, it began to heavily rain outside again, causing the pressure in my head abruptly shift. Here Boy licked her ankle and settled on my lap, and the three of us were congealed together as one, covered in water and sweat and tears. I never believed crying so much to the point of exhaustion could mend a great deal within. I wondered how she held no resentment towards me.

When dawn came, the stars were still in the now growing pink and purple sky. Honda and I laid side by side on the ground, facing each other with our heads resting on our elbows. Here Boy had already helped himself to three of the potatoes she had brought and was sound asleep by the remains of my dead fireplace.

"Sandwich King," she signed, "I stay here with you." She rubbed at her red, puffy eyes and gently touched my face, wiping away another tear that I had not noticed escaping down my left cheek. The sketchbook was carefully tucked underneath the arm of her dress. "I'm not going back. I stay here."

The old nickname made a deep smile fall on my face, no matter how hard I tried to hide it from her, or that her words absolutely had me delighted inside. Like sunshine breaking through the crowds. My nose was completely stuffed from all the carrying on I had done, and the dull headache that had come to accompany it made it harder for me to believe what she had just communicated to me. "Look, now. It's not wise to make such hasty decisions. I don't want you to get in trouble at the village. I think that it may be best to--"

"I'm always in trouble. I stay here."

When she scooted closer to me, her sweet scent caused a dark red haze to settle on my face. Her arm lightly rested on my side to lock me into an embrace, the blackened soles of her dirty bare feet brushing against mine. Not being able to help myself, I drew her closer to me in my arms and rested my chin on top of her head, her warmth sending butterflies in my stomach. Someone is here with me. I realized that my cave was no place for her; it was dark and cold and stunk like rats and Here Boy's feces. I smelled far worse than all of it combined, but when she snuggled against me and closed her eyes, such thoughts immediately faded away into nothing.

* * * * * * *

Little by little, Honda added splashes of color into my gray and lonely world.

She often disappeared a few times in following days and came back with seeds, plenty of clean clothing that she had stolen from the village for me, and even a small goat whom she had named Eli that we found wandering in the woods. I was worried the poor creature would die in a matter of weeks because we wouldn't have enough to feed him, but she managed. Usually she had the patience to pull off the leeches that were attached to my back after a failed fishing trip, or comb out all of the damn lice that had settled on my head. Far too many times she would make me sit by the stream, picking out the wretched critters and generously scratching at my inflamed scalp, deep in the middle of a lecture about keeping up with cleansliness and how my lack of understanding on such a concept made me nothing but a buffoon. Little did she know how amazing my head felt; I was smiling the whole time as she began signing at me with more exaggerated gestures.

She had not changed at all.

My new companions seemed to adjust to the swamp quicker than I thought. Eli often had a fresh pile of thick green grass that Honda provided for her each day, but liked to gnaw on some of my shirts hanging out to dry when I wasn't watching. I would often have to coax with him and try to pull them out of his mouth. Here Boy couldn't get enough of her, jumping and barking as they both splashed in the green swamp water, with her attempting him to make him learn how to sit and stay. She ran with him through the reeds, a pure look of joy on her face. And more often than not, she was always covered in head to toe in dirt because she would be constantly digging small holes and planting the seeds in crooked rows, making sure to carefully water them throughly. As the little green plants slowly sprouted from the earth, she eagerly told me there would be corn, okra, and squash growing soon. She spent time carefully weeding out the neat, plowed rows.

Honda attached wilted dandelions in her hair, dancing to herself between the trees when she thought I wasn’t looking, and several more sweet smelling flowers inside our cave after fashioning two beds of thick green moss on the ground. Each morning, she would hand me a turtle shell full of warm goat's milk, mixed with honey, and prepared sliced with a roasted pig or rabbit and yucca roots. Her thick stews were full of meats and roots that gave me more energy, which we would devour from our turtle shells clean, loudly licking our fingers. I didn’t know what she put in it, but the flavor reminded me of what food used to taste like for me. When she released a belch she covered her mouth, startled, but then when a longer, deep gutted one erupted from me we both erupted in snickers. My appetite started to come back to me; I no longer saw how my hips and ribs poked out from my body, given that the food she made had made me put on a little bit more weight.

I found myself laughing more than I knew possible when she kept fussing about my hair, since the lice had come back again. And when she swatted my shoulder in annoyance when she began to comb through the mess, signing to me, I only laughed harder as she began to untangle the knots that had settled there. When suddenly I scooped her up in my arms and rushed towards the water, she released a squeak as we both fell in with a heavy splash, the sudden cold shooting up my skin. By the time we resurfaced, breathing heavily, completely drenched head to toe, a mischievous look settled in her eyes as she splashed me in the face, causing me to cough and sputter, and then loudly squealed as I began to chase after her. We floated on our backs in the stream, our arms and legs hanging above the surface. As we swam underwater, our hair and clothing floated upwards, surrounded by fish and the silver light that had made its way the water. Bubbles escaped from our mouths and noses to the heavens, and once we reached a sandy bank, Honda presented me with colorful stones that she had found in her hand. We were still caught up in a wave of laughter, but she pressed a bright blue one in my hand and closed my fingers around it. A faint shade of pink had settled on the bridge of her nose as I smiled at her, but I assumed it was probably due to the heat.

In the cool evening air, we ran through the dark fields, our bare feet pounding across the ground, causing thousands of fireflies to rise in the air. Honda threw her arm out and twirled in the glowing lights, her eyes closed, a sight that left me breathless. Sometimes we would observe a pack of gray wolves behind the tall grass that would appear at night, their howls echoing through the air. She picked up two colorful dragon lilies, beaming, placing one in her hair and tucking another one behind my ear, smiling. The sensation of her gentle fingers against my skin made my heart race, and when she eagerly pulled and dragged me forward, the heat on my face only grew stronger.

I hoisted her up on my shoulders as she tried to reach for fruits or coconuts on a tree, her long legs dangling by my side. We split large one in half, munching on its ripe flesh, its sweetness leaving a tart taste in my tongue. Every every night, after each meal she prepared for the both of us, we would tell each other stories of different times before falling asleep in an awkward position, even though we both smelled bad and our clothes were filthy. We watched the fireflies settle out on the leaves, but even after she fell into a deep sleep, I would remain awake for hours and gaze upon her sleeping form, lost in my own thoughts, wondering how someone could forgive me so easily.

Some nights, the village would have a musical ceremony in which several instruments, including drums, would be played. She would rush over and pull me to my feet, and our shadows would be stretched out on the walls as we danced to the rhythm amongst the shadows of the campfires, our laughter and snickers in tune with the crickets singing in the air.

* * * * * * *

During one late morning, while I was gathering grubs near a group of rotten logs, turning them over to get the best ones, I saw Honda’s form rushing to me, tripping and splashing and tripping over the murky water. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, and she immediately grabbed my hand. The sudden gesture made my face flush, and I ended up dropping the thick yellow slug I had found.

Before I could ask what had happened, she was dragging me across the swamp, past the reeds and tall grass, where flies and mosquitos buzzed around our heads. Her filthy dress was sticky and coated with algae and mud, and once we clumsily reached down a shallow, rocky slope, she finally stopped and pointed at the lower area of a tall bush. I squinted my eyes against the bright sunlight and spotted an orange and red bird nestled between its leaves. The bright plumed feathers stuck up from its head.

Honda let go of my hand and took a few steps forward, the imprint of her fingers burning against my skin. “What is that?”

“It’s a cockatoo,” I softly said.

She smiled; a glow settled in her dark gray eyes as she signed the next sentence. “Like a parrot?”

The sound of fluttering distracted the both of us as the bird flew away in the distance just as I was getting ready to answer. Honda’s face fell, but she looked up as I beckoned her forward. When we crossed through a dense field, her footsteps in rhythm with mine, several deer grazed in the distance. White and orange butterflies scattered in the warm, humid air, and a hawk cried out. Ignoring the pain in my bad leg, I hoisted myself up on a nearby tree and held a hand out to her. She looked at me, confused, before her fingers wrapped around mine as she climbed up a branch.

After a few moments of climbing, and finding ourselves underneath the shelter of the thick, large leaves, once more Honda attempted to sign something, but I placed a finger to my lips, slightly winking at her. A smile fell on her face as I very slowly pushed the branch that concealed us.

Her mouth dropped open at the delight of the colorful array of birds. As she drank the sight in, I studied the K shaped scar on her face, a permanent reminder of what I had done to her family, her people. Pushing my guilt aside, I pointed to a few of the creatures with my dirty finger.

“That is a cacatua,” I quietly said. “Major Mitchell’s.” I adjusted my legs to the branch I held onto, realizing how close I was behind her. Her back brushed against my chest, and I could smell flowers and grass and mud in her thick, braided hair, that loosely hung down to her waist. “Black Palm. Citron.”

Honda was silent for a long time, completely mesmerized. “They’re beautiful.”

So are you, I so desperately wanted to say. A soft wind escaped between us, causing our hair to blow and the branches to sway. I glanced down for a moment, wanting her to reach out and hold her hand again, my fingers mere inches from hers. “I…come here a lot to think. It’s one of my favorite spots. And if you arrive here really early in the morning, there are plenty of different species that like to gather around. Like cardinals and bluejays.”

She suddenly turned to face me, her face lit up with excitement as she rapidly signed her words. “Blue jays?”

”Parakeets too,” I whispered. “Lots of ‘em.”

”You’ve seen them before?”

As I slowly nodded, my heart was pounding, melting under her shy smile. Dirt and mud was caked on her skin. My hands were all sweaty, the heat was starting to creep on my face.

“What kind of colors?”

”Even more than these,” I signed, slightly leaned forward, awkwardly resting my arm on the branch closer to her. “Some have distinct patterns on their feathers.”

“I’m going to use them as a reference to my sketchbook. I hope I won’t be too loud, so that I don’t scare them away.” When she smiled, electricity shot up my veins. “Thank you for showing me this. This must be your very secret spot. I wish I could live up there.”

I shoved my hands in my pocket, my words barely audible. My hair fell over my face as I turned my head to the side. “It’s…it’s real nice to have someone to share it with.”

“Can we go here every day?” Honda beamed. “You can see the village all the way from this place. I want to draw as many of them for you. I’ve never seen so many birds, even at home. We only had robins, crows, and owls. And pelicans.” She clutched her satchel. “I’d love to show you the drawings I have of them. I’ll make plenty of more for you.”

We were so close now, the tips of our noses close to touching each other and I almost rested my hands on her waist and drew her close to me to sink into her essence. A thick necklace of sweat had settled on her collarbones; her lips looked soft and round. I damned near pushed a few strands of hair out of her face and tucked them behind her ear, but only barely managed to restrain myself last minute. The torn, ragged hemline of her muddy skirts blew against my legs, and I could not look her in the eyes due to how incredibly red my face was getting.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Anytime.”

* * * * * * *

I struggled for control. Whenever her body brushed against mine, tingling waves would shoot through me. I wanted to hold her longer, run my fingers across her skin and through her hair, but each embrace was too short. My fingers lingered against hers. I kept looking at her for far too long, her legs, thighs, hips, the way the glow of the sun would fall on her face. As we planted seeds in our new garden, my soil covered hands brushed upon hers as we patted the ground together. My anguish would only worsen when her thin shoulder brushed against mine, and how her soft, full lips gently formed into a smile. These sensations became so irresistible that I had to mumble a flimsy excuse in front of her about needing to gather more water, before slipping out into the woods and desperately waiting to pull myself together.

Around midnight in our cave, while Honda was fast asleep with Here Boy lying up next to her under her arm, I slowly knelt down by her still form. My shadow spilled over her; owls hooted in the distance. After a brief moment of hesitation, I leaned close to her right ear, my mouth barely brushing against it as my hair fell down my shoulders. Her wild curls resembled a bird's nest, tangled and full of leaves, her eyelids so swollen, probably from a pollen allergy. She kept sniffing loudly. My face was burning red as I closed my eyes for a bit, before finally having enough courage to utter the words that had been stuck with me for so long. They came out in a whisper that was barely audible, but I managed to get them out.

I love you.

For a while I sat still. Her eyelids slightly fluttered, before she turned her head to the side away from me, adjusting her legs in her sleep. I kept my head low, devastated that she never would hear it. As I made my way to the entrance, I looked back again at the deeply peaceful expression on her face, her heavy breathing in rhythm with Here Boy's snores. His tail rested on the side of her leg. I stared at the ground beneath me, before quietly rushing through the trees and thick swamp reeds.

* * * * * * *

The cold, black water sloshed around my bare feet. I closely held onto the faded dragon lily she had given me, its soft petals starting to curl and wilt at the edges. When I tucked it deep into my pocket, I turned to face the raging sea in front of me.

Sand clung to my torn clothing. I had never seen the beach this way before. No stars settled in the sky tonight, only replaced by angry, gray clouds that floated above. Behind me, the orange lights of the village behind me glowed in the darkness, and yet I did not turn around to look, although I could feel its presence. Sharp, jagged rocks gleamed cruelly across the coral reefs, white foam bubbling on top of its surface. The salt air burned my nose as I took a deep breath and waded further in, shivering because of the cold. Yet, my destination was on the other side, near the west coast. Where Flanders was.

My hair blew in my face, covering my eyes.

As I held both palms of my palms out, the dreaded flow of energy coursing through my veins, much more intrusive that I had initially anticipated. A sharp pain entered my skull, but I continue as the ringing persisted. The rhythm of the waves matched my breaths. Warm, metallic blood poured down my nose as my fingers slowly curled in the damp sand. The bright blue light in my thin veins glowed as I struggled back up to my feet and took several steps backwards, diamond drops of liquid dripping from my hair and clothing. A warm gust of wind blew as the blue light in my veins flickered, just for a moment.

I crashed through the surface of the water, just to be slammed down again at the bottom, near all the seashells, bubbles floating around me. My hair was plastered against my forehead as I blindly fought my way forward. It filled my lungs and throat, and I couldn't stop hacking as I dragged myself across the shoreline, panting and gasping for air. The pain in my head wasn't any better, and my eyes stung horrendously.

Control. Control.

My chest burned as I took off running towards the water once more, on top of the rebellious waves. In the break of the clouds, I could make out the white glory of the moon that studied me far above, mocking me so that the tide would be so high. Thin ice patches formed underneath my toes as my breaths grew heavier. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop as a large wave started to rise above me, blocking my view of the sky. With a heavy grunt, I held a hand out to it, before momentarily losing my balance. The thick sheet of ice that crawled on its surface started to crumble like a cookie. A heavy grunt escaped from my mouth as I was slammed into the cold abyss, my hair and clothes floating, before electric blue fell upon me, and the liquid began to warp around my arms and legs.

The cool breeze of the midnight air blew upon my soaked clothing as I began to propel myself across the surface of the angry waves, icy blasts shooting from my hands and feet. Ignoring the blood pouring down my face, I formed six water tendrils around my body, holding back the energy that was coursing through my mind and soul.