#tsitus

For @dhysis and @claudela

Blackness. That’s all that existed. All that ever would exist. Left. Right. Up. Down. Forward. Backward. It grabbed at his mind as the ever present reminder of what he would never have. The forced concept of nonexistence. Try as he might to find his way through, to the light that his life might offer, the blackness was never ending.

The sensation of running flooded his body. The impact of his feet on a surface. The strain of his muscles against the effort. Nothing within his vision changed. Anxiety wracked his heart. It stuttered in his chest and the next he felt was the weightlessness of falling. There was no ground, just the endless sensation of freefall. The impact would give him release.

But the darkness remained. Pain shot through his body, tingling with fear, as he hit whatever surface he found. For as long as he fell he should be dead, but not here. Not in this place of emptiness. Straight ahead, up the way he fell from, there was a shift of movement. Something gray amongst the black. He ran, never once standing, but suddenly moving forwards once again.

The shape solidified into a figure, barely visible in the dark, and he pushed harder. Faster. Webs of smoke and blackness licked at the anchor he found. If he wasn’t fast enough it would disappear. The dark outline of his hand was barely highlighted by the small beacon he chased. He tried to call out to it but his words were smothered. 

As he neared, the figure started to turn. It felt like the ground might fall out from under him again. What stared back at him was not an image of hope. He stared back into his own face, ashen gray, splattered with blood. A past he could not remember.

Tsitus’ breath caught in his throat and forced him from the nightmare. Moonlight filtered in through the half pulled curtains. He could see. Though dark, his vision was clear. It was just a nightmare. That same damn nightmare. He sat up and put a hand to his eyes to wipe away the anxiety that still pounded in his chest. 

Looking around the room he reassured himself that everything was as it should be. Isarr’s breath was even in his chest as he slept beside him. The air was crisp. Fall. The best time of year.

Gently pushing aside the covers, he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. A little fire in the stove and some boiling water for tea. Taken off the heat before the whistle could wake up his partner, it was the perfect temperature for a little herbal blend. A few dried leaves from their garden was the perfect top off.

The warm aroma filled his nose as he held the ceramic cup close to his chest. Outside the air was even chillier, but it helped keep his mind from the darker places it might go. A light breeze rustled the leaves and sent some drifting down into the carpet of those that had already fallen. If he stood still long enough he might be able to see the deer making their way through the underbrush. Or hear the owls calling out their territories. The peace brought a smile to his lips.

Another breeze swept through the porch and sent a chill up his spine. Not a moment later, a warm blanket was set over his shoulders. Just beside him Isarr appeared with his own cup of tea. Even without words his presence was the most comfort Tsitus could ever need. He leaned against his shoulder so that he could wrap the blanket around them both and smiled.