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And Flux draws back.

The spirit is quite surprised, indeed, to be alive. Certainly, he knows that Pyre left him only the choice between death willing and death violent, for there is no way to outpace such a fire, even should he reach the shore, and so he fought long, and well. Certainly, too, the faery proved remarkably effective in dissolving flame and gale, though it be but one. And we well know that the body is a malleable thing, of which we all stand to learn much- How much more a body of paint to an artist?

Pyre breathes deeply, and roars conflagration still, sharp against the last moonlight. But he is grounded, now, a sizzling heap upon a wide field of ash, and he knows well how soon Flux may corner him, how simple it is for the flow to part before the obstacle and move on. They have passed each other many times, and, at last, the ranks of the fire do not rise again.

[color=00a99d]"It is a strange thing,"[/color] speaks Flux. [color=00a99d]"That, a time and a day ago, I wished to speak these words. For now that they come at last, they are heavy and ashen upon my soul. Thus I say to you, Pyre- Do you yield?"[/color]

A brief cloud of flame plumes again, and Flux disperses it with hands like ribbons.

[color=f7976a]"Never! Not to such as you. To death at the hands of one greater and more beautiful than I- Therein may lie some bitter honour, but this aeon shall not pass before I rid this world of your degeneracy!"[/color]

More fire, adding to the thick, low smoke. Flux delays the final collision. Pyre is not the only one to have spent much in this duel, and been depleted.

[color=00a99d]"There is no need for death in the moonlight. I never asked it of you, nor shall I force it. I ask life. Will you give me that?"[/color]

It is a curious dilemma, made none the less charged for the fact that Flux knows how it will end.

[color=f7976a]"Mark me, Flux. You shall be but a stain on the sand before the sun rises, if I must give my life to have it be so. For I, at least, will die as myself, free and pure to the last!"[/color]

He does not give his life. Not yet. Pyre is not certain that his sacrifice will destroy the painted being, not while Flux holds the upper hand.

[color=00a99d]"And yet I must live, and will not trade my life for yours, nor both of ours for nothing. If I flee from you, you shall return for me. If I let you destroy yourself as you wish, I may die. There is only one way, Pyre. Do you not know it?"[/color]

Another question. Another answer.

[color=f7976a]"I know it well- You shall fall upon me, and seek to destroy me before I may destroy you, and then I shall destroy us both! Come, coward! Cease delaying what must take place!"[/color]

A tragedy, that Pyre still denies to himself that he is not capable of the final step. Only the cruel would name it otherwise.

[color=00a99d]"I wish you no despair, Pyre. These shores have seen enough of that already. Make your last peace and give yourself back to the ether, the primordial winds. It is not my night to fade."[/color]

[color=f7976a]"I refuse it. I deny your empty promises now and into eternity, and if the Flux that was still lived, he would honour me by silencing them."[/color]

And, of course, he does live.

[color=00a99d]"Then it is over, for you as it was for me. I know what it means to seek death and find nothing. Goodbye, old friend. I will remember you with warmth and light."[/color]

Flux leaps, six wings fusing into two, and before Pyre can struggle to open up his own heart, he claps them together upon him. There is a final wave of embers as they collide, but Pyre is gone. The wavering candle-lights of his progeny look on, uncertain. They are too young to mourn. Only Flux remains to pay the final dues.

[color=00a99d]"Go,"[/color] he bids them. And, one by one, unsure of the meaning of mercy, they disappear into the haze and the ash.

Flux sees them all. Watch him well and closely; for we will not hear of him again for some time. See him as the final glow upon the ashen dune, the final sound as the crackle of fresh charcoal dies at last. Know that he smiles without a mouth, for these nameless children are too small to remember him and too young to travel far, and he is glad that they will live on to claim the dunes and the shore once again. 

Listen, closely now, for his prayers. They come in whispers. Flux prays to the wind, and the dawn, and the waters and what lies beyond them, prays even to Yivvin, that these sparks will not one day dwindle in the dust, but will burn, brightly, and carve names of their own into the legend of ages.

And having passed out of the legend himself, Flux moves on, into the lands of the sun.

[center][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/d85404396cd920ea481c9dd2a3d8d632/tumblr_o8rjgeiPvk1u5gf80o1_400.png[/img]

[color=00a99d][i]Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray,
Pray for those who chose and oppose.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.[/i][/color]

[img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/d85404396cd920ea481c9dd2a3d8d632/tumblr_o8rjgeiPvk1u5gf80o1_400.png[/img][/center]
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