A cluster of thoughts

Did she push me or did I fall? I remember only being asked to help with a lesson. She opened up the void within her; I felt the lifeblood drained from me and a bitter cold within. She said I had no choice but to drink from her. She said she saved my life. Perhaps she did. I would have frozen in the abyss that is Nareth.

I could not be with her, yet I could not leave. I both longed for her and despised her. The blood of the Omega runs through her veins. And that is not a gift to be rejected lightly.

I chose to walk away. Nicholette, for your sake, I hope I did the right thing. . . .

*****

Burned and black. Burned and black. Larissa, dear friend, you would not have forth told were it not to be. Yet this dream of death must be mutable. Despite Pontifex’s mocking, there must be free will. The Creator has made it so. Dear friend, you placed a white rose in my hand--a funerary ornament or the way to rebirth?

*****

A lovely pink heart. A silly pink mustache. I watched with amazement as Brit drew them sparkling in the air. She said Lorne had given her dream ink in which to dip her colors. A two-edged demon gift. Not all dreams are those we wish to come true. There is the dark side, the nightmares we keep hidden within. I wondered, though, whether a nightmare so beckoned might prove to protect Brit if other defenses failed. “Can you draw one”, I asked? “You mean a scary picture?” Brit questioned. She closed her eyes and lifted her hand, crayon poised . . . and a toxic waste monster appeared. . . .

*****

I walked the streets and the shore, searching to satisfy my hunger. The building drew me. Would there be answers inside? The woman, Scarlette, had said she descries the future, not by crystal ball, but by the cards. “Watch me read,” she invited. Perhaps I was too much of a Silver-Hair, though I tested neither beds nor porridge. Yet a sword was drawn on me, with the threat of sending me back to the Omega in pieces. I only sought answers.