[b]Herbert[/b]

The sobbing man flinched at the touch of the tiny hand. Then he sighed deeply. Lifting his head from the ground, he sat up, and stared at Dzel with shimmering eyes.

“It is self-indulgent,” Herbert said, wiping the back of a hand across his eyes, “quite a pathetic lapse on my part.” 

The corners of his lips turned upwards almost imperceptibly, “Things should not change so quickly though.” 

A dry laugh then escaped his soggy lips. “Of all the people, I might be the least deserving of a second chance, I have done dreadful things, beyond redemption, I must be, but…” His brow creased, his vision went blurry as he tried to recall, “My mind is fractured.” 

He sighed again, slouching forwards and dropping his gaze, “The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. And yet, perversely, I find myself craving the burden of knowledge, proof of my sins.”

Despite this though, a small kernel of fantasy began to develop, entertaining the possibility of self-recreation. Yet, he knew it could never be, encharmed as he was with a maiden so radiant and pure, and so deceased. She would always curse his mind. She was the one constant in a world where everything had become dreamlike and he could not separate reality from aberrations of the mind.

“I fear there is no place for me in this world.” 

Light flashed. After the fleeting pulses of pink illumination, the darkness seemed grossly oppressive. 

“What was that?” Herbert asked, not looking at Dzel, but the steel all around from which the magic runes had glowed.