"̢̀͡ Whatever you do, do not lose sight of who you are. "̸̶̴͠
Echoed the recognizable voice of Martin. Hollow like a dark midsummer night it glamoured from every direction.
In the distance was a light that came closer. A small, red flame danced up and down as it came closer with every echoing step.
From the endless darkness stepped the image of Martin, as he was long ago.
The white jacket and wool pointed hat and bell that never made a sound.
In his hand was the source of the light, a small golden oil lamp with a small dancing flame.
His face showed frustration and helplessness.
After a long period of silence he spoke again.
"̢̀͡ I promised to stay out of your head, but this situation is... different. You've never been this close to oblivion. "̸̶̴͠
Martin sighed, human like. With a voice slightly broken he continued.
"̢̀͡ I know that defeating your demons is a challenge for you to overcome by yourself... But there will be a point where you are beyond saving brother. While we can no longer die, you can still be erased. [b]Forgotten. [/b]"̸̶̴͠
Martin sat down in front of Mithias and put the lamp in between them, carefully stroking it. The faint red glow flickered in the pale white of his blind eyes.
"̢̀͡ Please, let me help you. "̸̶̴͠