The ringing never did stop. Or, if it did, it did not stop in time for Hayim to recover from his exhaustion. He barely registered the words that Udrassa spoke, his mind rapidly drifting from the realm of consciousness. Thoughts invaded his dimming mind, regret that he was unable to help the humans yet, fear that they would be trampled while he was asleep and most important of all, the foreboding feeling that he was under the effect of the spire still. The effects were not warping his body, nor could he feel his mind shifting as it did earlier, but it may have simply chosen to attack his[i] being[/i] instead. Give him the same level of consciousness as a simple plant... Turn him into a vegetable.

It was a mix of adherence and fear that Hayim felt as sleep claimed him. He refused to retreat to his realm no matter the cost, the thought of his precious humans suffering being too much for the young god to bear. However, he was fearful that he would never awake from the rapidly encroaching darkness, the encompassing mass that it represented. Perhaps it was a part of his simply plant brain - the natural aversion to darkness, and love of the light. Or perhaps it was his childlike nature. Either way, he entered the world of the unwaking with a very keen sense of apprehension. His last moments were crowned with the gentle coverings of a flower, the trees seeming to offer their protection to the young god as he drifted to sleep.

[hr]

Awakening was never easy. The young god was lucky to not possess a heart - his fear was quick to come, but seemed to have a certain limit. He couldn't have a 'heart attack' like the humies. That fact was little comfort to Hayim, has he came to in a familiar place. Ah, how he spent so many millennia like this, every few nights revisiting it. The sound of cicada chirping, dusk casting everything in purple-orange light. A warmth next to him that he could never manage to look at normally, resting its hand on his delicate body. Normally he was semilucid, allowing the tranquility to ease his sorrows and allow him to simply exist - the prayers of his worshipers streaming through his mind as a soft lullaby.

There were no prayers, and he was not tired in the slightest. The cicadas chirping was ravenous, a cacophony rather than an orchestra. There was no warmth, the one who provided it was nowhere in sight. Hayim did not like this

Hayim was not happy.

He chose to leave. His exit was clear before him, extending to the heavens like a spear, like one of Ragnadon's mighty claws. A tree - the world tree. [i]His[/i] tree. No, not his tree, NOT HIS TREE - Hayim ran for it. Leaves struck out ahead of him, clambering to throw the light god forwards as fast as possible. Nothing chased him - the cicadas dimmed their calls, and the silence grew overbearing. Hayim did not breath, so the only thing breaking up the single, oppressive silence was the movement of grass under Hayim's legs. He didn't slow as he ran to the tree - he leaped through it.

[hr]

Hayim was in a corridor, shuddering slightly. He was in a room, with a single massive set of doors dominating it. Its ornamentation drew the gods attention for a fraction of a second, before the presence of his siblings wretched him from it. Oao... Hayim couldn't remember the last time he had talked to her. Rai was similar in that situation, but the pair were on friendlier terms - Hayim knew his status with the humies, and the Humies respected him highly for his craft.

As the god of treasure spoke, Hayim remained silent. He was unaccustomed to this place - there were no plants in sight, so his escape had to wait... No, escape was impossible as long as his siblings were there. He couldn't leave them behind, even if there were plants at his disposal. Hayim was aware of the only way out of here... Well, there were two ways, but Hayim refused to return back to the dreamscape. Not as it was now. That left the doors.

[@Noodles][@A Lowly Wretch]