#agol

American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis). Family Fringillidae, order Passeriformes.

believe us, they say, it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world.

"Don't..." He mumbled, stumbling over a tongue that feels dry, too big to fit inside his mouth. His chest burned where he traded his life for Rhy's. The symbol may one day become second nature but for now he felt every moment of the responsibility. He had to live, so that Rhy could live. Kell had made a sacrifice... or forced Rhy to make one. Right now it doesn't matter, because the result is the same.

He didn't want to think about that. There was another strange pain in his back, just below his right shoulder blade, but when he tried to understand it his mind skipped away. He tried to move but chains rattle, and his wrists and ankles are kept still. 

"Sssshhh," The voice from before continued, a little clearer now. "You must be thirsty. Drink." A cup of water was tipped to his mouth, and Kell didn't have the energy to fight this small piece of mercy. He drank, the water cool and clear on a throat that is so raw it burns.

Why is his throat so raw?  Oh, right, the screaming.

"Thank you," Kell said hoarsely.

"Our first lesson." The moment of mercy is gone. The cup, still half-full, is pulled away from him. "How to address me properly."

"N-no, I'm still thirsty," Kell said, and his voice cracked. His mind was coming back to him. He remembered now, remembered lying there struggling against the chains as Holland took the stone from his hand, the black stone transferring as though it had found someone more worthy to carry it. He knows-

Kell's eyes flew open, and he winced against a bright white light and a lance of pain through his head. "The stone! Where is the stone?"

"Sssshhh. Don't ask questions like that." He knew that voice. It was a voice he'd been hearing for most of a decade now, passionless and sharp as a knife. His heart dropped down somewhere near his toes.

Familiar matching day 3