HEThe wind blows against his body. The pain is unbearable, yet HE sits on the edge in a serene calm. Images race through his mind at a pace that rivals the sensation of pain HE is feeling!

The coldness of the winds against him leave him chilled, in a bitter, fringed battle to survive. Though iced from the numbness, a single, solitary point burns with an uncontrollable rage. He knows this pain far too well, however, a different sense fuels this fire. To feel the blade pulled from his soul hurt like a hell that HE had never known. HE will never forget how a pain that he had lived with for so long could be ripped out by the roots that held itself so firmly planted near his core.

To know the feeling that would follow, a sense of healing that HE had only heard about in lore and dreamt about in rare moments of disturbed sleep, could have warmed his arctic soul, scattered his sanity across the wasteland of his being. Warmth, security, unity and solace in a mixed up web of love and caution that could not have been contained.

Like the gift of life itself, HE closes his eyes and recalls how it was violently extracted from the fabric of that life. That very blade that had been removed, allowing him to see such a magical existence, had been thrust in with such a shocking eclipse of time. Severed from that warmth, could not have angst more, except for its driving force that welded it.


SHE seemed so different, unlike any other. His core raged with fire at how his wall could be breached, at how he could have allowed himself to believe where there was no hope, and have seen what was not there to begin with. HE looked into her soul, HE saw her core, HE could not have been wrong. With a sharp, excruciating jolt through his spine, he crushes that thought before it has the chance to seed itself again.

SHE had a soul, a spirit. SHE was not ‘Their Kind’! What the hell had come across his sense of self perseverance so strongly that it could cause such chaos. Her face, her eyes, so pure, so true, so willing. Together it was different, all battles could have been won and all weapons laid down in the end.

A percussion jerked him over, causing the blade to burn with a madness that scared him. HE knew that this new pain carried a secret. HE could feel it! SHE had scored his core and it was languishing to repair itself!!! A sense of peace had coated his soul. SHE, though long gone and far, far away, could be ending his darkness and destroying his world. Only to come in form that HE could not have foreseen.

At this point, nothing else matters. HE knew that if it was over, HE would be released from his pain. HE thrust his head back and laid himself down in the wasteland, awaiting what may come. SHE would never leave his thoughts and with it, HE comforted with the image of her uniqueness. HE then closed his eyes, embracing the reality at hand.

Should his core vanquish, HE will perish believing that SHE was different, for what ever reason, SHE was still not one of ‘Their Kind’. He absorbed the realism that her memory would be never, Everending…

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