Kleine Krahe
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Tue, 09 Sep 2014 03:42:00 +0000
Silver had disappeared at the same time Light disappeared, but this time it was no coincidence.
At first Silver would not leave his room on account he was out of his 'special drink' and had neither the energy nor the patience to leave the confines of his suite. Sayne still had not returned to resupply and Light was nowhere to be found to help Silver.
His condition grew worse as he became weaker. It seemed almost fate when one day he finally slipped and broke his dresser mirror, the shards of silver glass leaving minor cuts on him as he fell to the floor. He only had the energy to look upon himself and notice that for such minor cuts, they were bleeding very freely. Shortly after this observation, he lost consciousness.
The cuts continued to bleed, but instead of forming a puddle under his limp form, the crimson liquid seemed only to evaporate, as if it never was.
Silver could only guess how much time had passed. Days? Weeks? He couldn't tell. He only knew he awoke in his cold room feeling hungry.
Wait.
Hungry?
He felt drained, but in a different way. Not empty, but fatigued.
His stomach growled softly in protest. The sound coming from his own body sounded so strange,
he thought it might have been him growling without realizing. But it wasn't his lungs, it was his gut.
Silver pushed himself to a sitting position and remained there for a few moments before forcing himself to stand, ignoring the clinking of shifting glass beneath him. He reached a hand up to rub his head, tiredly looking down at his feet. It took only a few moments of blankly staring at the floor before he caught a glimpse of a reflection of someone else staring back at him. His head jerked up, eyes wide as he searched the room for an intruder, but there was no one there.
Thinking he was just hallucinating after being out for so long, he wandered into the bathroom for a hot shower to wake himself up. Being so groggy, he took his time and was careful to not slip and fall, as his muscles were achy and sore enough.
Finishing his shower, he grabbed his towel and dried himself off before turning toward the mirror to assess how awful he must look.
In the mirror of the bathroom he saw the same face from the shard of glass on the floor staring back at him. This stranger had a more golden olive tone to his skin and had no markings on his face, and his tired eyes were a deep, golden red. Silver stared at this naked figure in the mirror in horror before he realized that the man staring back at him...was himself. He lifted a hand to touch his hair, still the same length but the shade was something between a honey blond and hazel brown.
This isn't possible. It must be a dream.
He stared in the mirror and touched his own face.
He was wide awake.
But he couldn't be. How could he?
Silver rushed out of the bathroom and opened a drawer in his nightstand, frantically shuffling the contents around to his found what he was looking for. He held a photograph in his hand of Light sitting in the shoulders of a tall man with tan skin, brown hair, and red-orange eyes. He practically tripped over himself rushing back to the bathroom before he stood in front of the mirror, his gaze jumping from the photograph to his reflection in the mirror.
The face staring back at him resembled his mother, Light, and more dominantly, the face of the man in the photograph, Chaos Talon.
His father.
Was this a dream? Or was everything he remembered a dream?
Unsure of what was and wasn't reality, Silver got dressed in a dazed state. As he went to put on his gloves, he realized he didn't need to. His hand had no stains.
Stunned, he shuffled out of his room and closed the door behind him, wandering down to the bar.
The floor felt real, and the stairs were solid. The wooden railing in his hand seemed real. But he just couldn't be sure.
At first Silver would not leave his room on account he was out of his 'special drink' and had neither the energy nor the patience to leave the confines of his suite. Sayne still had not returned to resupply and Light was nowhere to be found to help Silver.
His condition grew worse as he became weaker. It seemed almost fate when one day he finally slipped and broke his dresser mirror, the shards of silver glass leaving minor cuts on him as he fell to the floor. He only had the energy to look upon himself and notice that for such minor cuts, they were bleeding very freely. Shortly after this observation, he lost consciousness.
The cuts continued to bleed, but instead of forming a puddle under his limp form, the crimson liquid seemed only to evaporate, as if it never was.
Silver could only guess how much time had passed. Days? Weeks? He couldn't tell. He only knew he awoke in his cold room feeling hungry.
Wait.
Hungry?
He felt drained, but in a different way. Not empty, but fatigued.
His stomach growled softly in protest. The sound coming from his own body sounded so strange,
he thought it might have been him growling without realizing. But it wasn't his lungs, it was his gut.
Silver pushed himself to a sitting position and remained there for a few moments before forcing himself to stand, ignoring the clinking of shifting glass beneath him. He reached a hand up to rub his head, tiredly looking down at his feet. It took only a few moments of blankly staring at the floor before he caught a glimpse of a reflection of someone else staring back at him. His head jerked up, eyes wide as he searched the room for an intruder, but there was no one there.
Thinking he was just hallucinating after being out for so long, he wandered into the bathroom for a hot shower to wake himself up. Being so groggy, he took his time and was careful to not slip and fall, as his muscles were achy and sore enough.
Finishing his shower, he grabbed his towel and dried himself off before turning toward the mirror to assess how awful he must look.
In the mirror of the bathroom he saw the same face from the shard of glass on the floor staring back at him. This stranger had a more golden olive tone to his skin and had no markings on his face, and his tired eyes were a deep, golden red. Silver stared at this naked figure in the mirror in horror before he realized that the man staring back at him...was himself. He lifted a hand to touch his hair, still the same length but the shade was something between a honey blond and hazel brown.
This isn't possible. It must be a dream.
He stared in the mirror and touched his own face.
He was wide awake.
But he couldn't be. How could he?
Silver rushed out of the bathroom and opened a drawer in his nightstand, frantically shuffling the contents around to his found what he was looking for. He held a photograph in his hand of Light sitting in the shoulders of a tall man with tan skin, brown hair, and red-orange eyes. He practically tripped over himself rushing back to the bathroom before he stood in front of the mirror, his gaze jumping from the photograph to his reflection in the mirror.
The face staring back at him resembled his mother, Light, and more dominantly, the face of the man in the photograph, Chaos Talon.
His father.
Was this a dream? Or was everything he remembered a dream?
Unsure of what was and wasn't reality, Silver got dressed in a dazed state. As he went to put on his gloves, he realized he didn't need to. His hand had no stains.
Stunned, he shuffled out of his room and closed the door behind him, wandering down to the bar.
The floor felt real, and the stairs were solid. The wooden railing in his hand seemed real. But he just couldn't be sure.