Siccrem, Day 5 (3)
In a distant place, far enough away from Light Tower that it could be considered a separate country, Kaelbi Hellfryne spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth from the depths of his throat.
Lying on his back, he looked at the night sky littered with stars and the bright moons hanging overhead, with a sense of complete and utter failure in his heart. His eyes dimmed, depressed.
It was a warm, clear summer night. The fields were golden with ears of grain, glistening like treasure troves under the silver moonlight. The sky overhead was dark and beautiful.
A gentle breeze meant to soothe the heat brought chills over Kaelbi's paling skin. His chapped lips, dry and caked with blood, trembled with silent words of longing and repentance.
It was impossible to know what he was repenting for. The breaths from his body were not strong enough to convey clearly what he was wanting to say.