How Many Times Must I Die?

[xo31 3989]

that's the way it is

[not a PK post]

[scattered thoughts, as most of my narrative posts are]

 

Elijah stood within his bedroom within the Tor which was known as Urldar.

He stared out of the window, but briefly caught a glimpse of his burnt face - and it began to break. His mind, every bit of what he had built, fell to pieces.
The devil fell unto his knees, and tears fell freely.

I hate the way that I look.

 

His hands clawed up over his face, and wiped away desperately, but to no avail. He only stared weakly out that window and at the sunset which he ensured to never miss. He was hungry, but too filled with despair to even eat. In one hand, he clutched a photo of him and another man from when he was younger, naive, before he had died.

What have I become?

 

Why must I die?

 

It was all for this path.

 

He stared over that sword that he was given by his godmother, the daughter of a man who he considered some form of teacher when he was young. Before he was wise. A friend.
 

But what friends have I now?

No, they are all going to die, soon, and I will be left, here.

I will be left.

"She told me that I could stand it, stand the loss - but she was hardly even her anymore. We preach the death of identity, but what crime is it to merely want to be? I cannot even write words anymore, though I do not tell my teachers, for I fear they would find me worthless. The fight with the demon caused this, alongside Mul'naar. They saved me, even if it was..  hardly."

The depths. The dungeons. Why?

 

He reminisced, for now he had a fear of the dark. He had a fear of everything, now. Sometimes, when he tried to sleep at night, he only saw himself in the dungeons. He just worked on trying to write something to appease, on those nights.

I have given everything. And yet, I am lost once more.
 

Elijah stood atop the side of a volcano, ash littering his now burned, hardly recognizable face. Below him, was magma, bubbling. The very top of the Mountain. His cape, coated in the insignia of a dragon, gifted to him when he was young by a d'Arkent boy he was so fond of. 
He began to lean forth, it seemed oh, too quickly, he accepted whatever lie beyond.

I will die one last time, for my conviction wanes - and I want little now, but fire.

A small pygmy drake appeared to proffer unto him a letter.

He read it, with squinted eyes, and then set off.
A snowy peak was ascended, and at a gate,

Words were spoken to someone else - words that said,

How many times must I die?
 

 

[elijah would scarcely be seen around the place he was most often found for the foreseeable future.]

[PrinceTheDM 275]

Elijah felt a disturbance in the Elijah-verse.