The Kiss of Immortal Love

~ XII ~

Coming Back

His steps no longer broke into the cement, trembles breaking across the stone, lessened after every course. Leaning left and right, deeper and further, close to falling, saving himself in switching to extremes.

On reaching the other side of the bridge, a journey over nearly endless valley, the smooth mountaintop condensed forward. Narrowing into a swirling lane perhaps carved by nature, winding downward, an expanse teased over its edge.

And stumbling to it—fighting urges to throw himself over—the sweeping scale of the forest opened. It spanned across the vistas and its green merged and thinned with the horizon. Dullness of rock transitioning into the exotic life and colours of branches and leaves and trees and the dense foilages cast over them all.

An Enchanted Forest.

Spike stood at the edge before the sweeping scale of life, the mask pressed to his face sticking there. In dropping his arm, it swung loosely to his side. Seconds after that, however, it lifted to the stump of his shoulder. He gripped it, feeling the charred surface. With a set of groans, he collapsed onto the ground, sitting to the crossing of his legs, torn stomach tensing to the impact.

Out father struck a deal with the devil not expecting it to be of the fairer sex. Spike clenched his eyes in pain as its expression became hidden beneath the growing mask. Fighting it in twitches did nothing to repress the voice. To prolong his life, he granted us birth, one with her. We are the change so fate doesn't remain the same. We're not like other dragons for a reason, y'know.

Breathe. In and out. Count the numbers.

One.

Two.

Three.

Did you do the right thing... or what had to be done?

Reset.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Can you change from our past, or are we doomed to keep the same?

Again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Inhale and exhale. Tension compounded into weight pushed out through the lungs. Chest lighter than before.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Simplicity dies upon fighting for beyond the fight. Our scaled are aged and strained from untangling complexity. The effort and drain that comes from such a process is thought to render creatures weaker.

Exhale choking on the inhale. Relax and clear your mind. Open those eyes to the sight. Tops of great trees like a sea of green with the density of the foliage spanning across the expanse. Let the breeze ease your mind. Sweep away your haze. Release your staleness born from repetitive tension.

One.

Two.

Three.

In and out.

Feel the breeze tickling in the crevices between your scales.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Develop into the slow rhythm of peace.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Yet I've seen you win fight against beasts without giving into the one within. But our demons are not our foes. Look at everyone as a friend and they will become as such; look at every as a foe and that is what they'll become. Complexity allowed for informed veiws and understanding of each other.

Ten.

You still haven't found out what you believe in, Spike, for the world and those around you are always changing. But you keep the same, don't you? Or is that a lie and the reason you wear that mask? Everything shifting but yourself. Tranquility will give you clarity.

Spike's eyes blasted open in a controlled pace to the view of the world before him, a far-reaching expanse of the tops of trees with the faintest glimpses of the gaps between. Sunlight peeked out from grey clouds. Its natural warmth heated his scales in a way refreshing.

Rather then the molten that encased them.

The claw on the charred stump fell, collapsing onto his lap, centring the flow of energy through his circulation. He was returned into peaceful silence, normal size and without his coat, naked without even his sash.

Never had he felt more free and without weight of his sword or duty.

But from glancing forward to downward, he peered into his palm, the blood stained over purple scales.