"I wail, for the temptation beats against me like a heavy wave. Pain or peace. Life or death. My companions echo in my mind. They join together in a beautiful picture of the time I'd be leaving.
Her utterance is pure: "This is the destination. Our destination. We've found it, dear one. Father would be so proud."
His last desire ricochets in me; a lost memory suddenly being strewn about. "Find the destination. It's always been yours."
I look into her monstrous eyes with resignation, and she smiles in her assertions of triumph.
I discreetly ease a firmer grip on my knife's handle. She holds my left cheek in her grimy hand, and my shoulder in the other. This is just where I need her."
I promised that I'd never fall to a relentless influence again. I swore that I'd break any law to defend the life I constructed. Why have I deceived myself? I may have abandoned Fire, though her rein is far from over. I desire peace from her scalding attacks, though just when death becomes appealing someone I love insists that I resist the dire temptation. Old promises from that beach years ago seem pointless to recognize in days as these. But I cannot ignore the subconscious, nagging intuitions. Could I be different for a reason? Why does the present feel like a trial; testing my tolerance? Can't I continue walking without her insufferable burning? She killed Wind. Shouldn't I survive?
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