nevermore /akira leisure day 3

The shadows are gone now.

I sit there on the black sand bank of the lake, my clothes wet from the unexpected dip in the water. The fire that Izzy built warms my back, drying the fabric of my shirt so well that it begins to wrinkle and tighten against my skin. She's asleep already, the anthem long over and once again, I keep watch.

Fenrir is dead.

I pretend it means nothing to me and it kind of works. There was supposed to be something there I think. From that first moment when I saw him from my place on the balcony, him on the ground, I knew there was going to be something there. We passed each other by, ships on the river in the night. He's dead, really dead, not like me and how I am. Pity.

The goblet is gone, lost in that first moment when the voice and the shadow rose from the lake. I'd let it fall from between my fingers and it sank into the shallows. By the time Izzy and I got back near the shore, the search for it was pointless. It'd been swept away in the lake's anger, swallowed by the sand.

I watch the water now, still, complacent after I ran the shadow through with my torch. I knew it was weak then already, fading under the low light that the day offered. I know that it's not dead either because there's no way that could kill something as enormous as the lake. It stretches so far that any opposite shore gets lost to fog and the shadowy mist that rises off of the surface.

Still, I feel more loss than I should.

I stare at the murky waters, torch stuck into the sand beside me, somehow after everything, still lit. The light that it casts along with the fire reflects off of the dark surface and if I look hard enough, I almost feel like I can see something moving in the depths.

The words fall out my mouth before I can think what I'm about to do through.

"You alright?" I ask the lake, softly.

I can't get the memory of all those hands reaching for the surface out of my head, the way they just floated there, like a sea of blooming lotus flowers, fingers unfurling, half in offering half begging. I know a boy like me doesn't do this, I've only ever hurt people until there was nothing left of them to hurt anymore and then left.

I don't check in like this, I don't ask these thing because I don't want to know.

I tell myself that it's because I don't care and sometimes my lies are so good that I even believe them.

The lake doesn't seem to have heard me and I rest my chin on my knees. It's begun to hurt to speak, my throat so dry that every time I open my mouth, it feels like claws are raking through my flesh.

Izzy stitched up the cut in my leg, but I still feel the dryness, feel the way my skin feels like it might crumble soon. The hunger lays there, like a second skin beneath my skin, pacing back and forth.

I might have to kill Izzy tomorrow if I don't get something to drink.

There's a rippling in the water about ten feet in front of me and water suddenly starts to rise, too quickly. I stare at it, knowing I should move away but there's no feeling to it. I'm not afraid like I probably should be. My hand reaches for the torch, wrapping around the wood just under where the flame burns.

The water bubbles, spilling over the sides of something, rising out of the shallows. Moon and firelight refract off it, sending a bright line of light right into my eyes. I wince and look away, raising a hand to block it. I open my mouth to call for Izzy to wake up and then shut it.

Because there is my goblet full to the brim with water, sitting on the sand right in front of me and behind it, the lake recedes once again.

I stand, hands loose at my sides, the torch still stuck into the sand beside me.

"I'm glad," I whisper.

The tide rises briefly to brush against the end of my shoe, then recedes once again.