
NIGHT, PATH, FIRE
FIRE
Weary eyes heavy from a deep sleep, bright red peeked from the dark lids, his limbs felt tired, exhausted, broken tail languidly feeling the ground. It was hot, too hot. He was used to the deserts punishments, the sun making the sand feel like they were coals, working day and night with only a sip of water in him, and the acha didn't mind that. But this was a different heat.
Finally he moved his head, a bright light of fire lighting his dark pelt, eyes opening completely now in surprise of the fire so nearby. Yet he wasn't scared, it was comforting. As it was from fire he was born into this world, he would always touch and feel her welcoming flames and he knew he would be alright. It almost felt like he was going back into those flames, back into the darkness. He was darkness. He once was lost in it, not a friend of the fire but consumed by it, all its rage and pride.
But not anymore.
There was so much more fear in his chest when he remembered his Ascent, his light, his one. Would she be here? He had hoped not, perhaps the flames wouldn't be as kind to her -- he'd burn and walk into any flame himself in her place. He winced at this strange pain but he got on his legs, looking around with his stitched mouth, everywhere the bright roaring fire surrounding him as if telling him, this was his home now, this is where he came from, this is where he belonged.
"No."
He said in a gritted tone, eyes serious and expression calm. This was his home before, this place was how he came upon this world, the MotherFather knew that, and he knew that. But it wasn't where he belonged.
"Ascent.. Ascent..." he hummed her name like a prayer.