"A snake has a heart too..." [Private/Ahote]

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...
"...Where am I?" The gentle voice of Ahote echoed in this void of darkness. Yes, it was just his naked body, floating in a sea of pitch black. His body as light as a feather, and breathing in cool air. Ah... it was this dream again. Ahote slowly opened his eyes to catch glimpse of the nothing. Nothing. Nothing was there when he opened his eyes. Nothing but darkness and the odd glow that emitted from his body.

He couldn't help but give into the temptation to reach out to the darkness with an outstretched hand. But nothing but darkness would slip through his fingers, and the crushed hope had tortured something. Palms itching to grasp ahold of something. Anything. But as if a wish was granted, the gentle tip of a finger would press against a thin sheet of darkness, as if if were a wall preventing him from reaching out any further to the nothing. As if this world was saying, "That's enough. Don't fight back. Let this darkness shield you from the beyond."

It only caused him to gently push harder with his fingertip, until he pushed with his entire hand, until he pushed with two hands, until he pushed with the weight of his feather-like body. It was hard, but he triumphed in this trial.

The wall of darkness had instantly been adorned with cracks of light, and shattered like glass. His body fell through, and a familiar world had been exposed to him. It was now an ivory void. Just a plane of existence completely submerged in white. The anxiety, the fear, and desperation, the torture he had experienced just moments ago, now disappearing and fading into a light calmness. A faint nostalgia. This had always happened, every night ever since he left his home in Magnolia Town. He had been drowned in darkness unless he fought back and cracked open a way to this enchanting peace. This silent world of eternal beauty.

He closed his eyes, and listened, and waited, and slept. He slept, and slept, and slept, until he opened his eyes again.

Suddenly, he would lie on a a sheet of water. Water. An ocean would cover the world he was now in, an ocean so clear that is reflected the cloud-speckled sky above so perfectly, so clearly that you could not see the bottom to this ocean. He floated there alone, in a deafening silence, where only his peaceful heartbeat could be heard. It was a magnificent feeling, but all good must meet their opposites.

Hands of a demonic figure would burst out of the water below him from the sides and grab him by the jaw and neck, pulling him underwater with no warning. Ahote widened his eyes, and struggled to break free of the demonic figure's grasp. Water turned to blood, clouds turned to ash, skies deemed red, and a moon appeared, as black as the void he was previously in. He couldn't breathe! The blood filled his mouth, but he never seemed to drown. It was just this endless torture of drowning but not drowning. Awaiting death but it would never come. The liquid filling his lungs but never leaving after death. He suffered, and suffered, and suffered, and suffered... suffered until...

"Help! Help! Ple- ...?!"

Ahote jerked up from his shaggy pillow in a cold sweat, eye widened with fear and body trembling uncontrollably. His entire body was moist and drenched in a cold sweat, and quickly realized that it was the same dream he had night after night.

He realized that he was okay, and that he was here at the fort of Basilisk Fang. Right... Basilisk Fang; he was alright, but spooked and tearful. But he couldn't stand the thought of sleeping alone tonight again, not after what he envisioned. So with that, he flipped the sheets off of his body and leapt off of his bed, out of the door with Oscar, his stuffed bunny, dragging him by the worn down ear.

He had roamed through the halls, leaning against the wall by the touch of his hand due to the fact his was weak to the knees, shaking crazily. He was on the verge of tears, really, and tried to hold back, afraid that someone might see him cry. But it was hard, and managed to weep his way down the hallway, over to Famine's dorm.

He wept and sniffled and wiped his nose several times on the way down until he arrived to it's door, not bothering to not but slowly open it.

Creaaaaak....

Ahote peered inside of the room to discover a sleeping mistress on her bed, seemingly asleep. But with his eyes clogged and blurred with tears, he paid no mind to it and walked in with the quick closing of the door, trying not to disturb anyone else.

He looked left, and then looked right. No one else but Famine seemed to be in here at this hour, and that was more of a relief than a shame. But with a quivering body and a teary face, he waddled over to Famine in his "I <3 Bunnies!" T-shirt and baby blue shorts, gently climbing onto the edge of the bed and pulling her arm, trying to slowly wake her up.

"F-Famine?..." He spoke with a shaky voice, sniffling and wiping one river of tears away.

AND NOW ITS ENDING IN MY RESURRECTION

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He sniffled.

Ahote continued to tremble to the gentle touch of Famine, still sobbing to the very recollection of his reoccurring nightmare. His body refused to stop shaking, and it was this childlike fear that filled his eyes. He felt the pale skin meet his, and bed sheets creeping down from her chest to reveal her silver night dress, which, she looked fair in. Ahote couldn't help but go silent for a few moments after she addressed him, her captivating gaze capturing his. His name slipped through his lips with a faint echo, slowly raising her thumb to his tears that would flick from the clog in the corners of his eyes, down to his cheeks. She wiped the moisture away, and left reddened eyes.

Ahote swallowed his spit and sniffled, raising fists to his eyes and wiping the remaining tears away, leaving nothing but a trembling boy. He had crawled closer to Famine's side by now, nodding to her question. "Th...There was this ocean, and this pretty sky... it was so pretty. But then the sky turned red and the clouds turned into grey stuff and sea turned into this super thick stuff.... and then... and then!..." His speech became stuffy and eyes becoming clogged with tears again, droplets of the moisture escaping the group until he began sobbing again.

He tried to wipe the tears away again with the rough rubbing of his wrists, but the tears did not stop. The child sat there next to his caretaker, and sobbed.

SO TELL ME A STORY...

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The raven haired boy sobbed in between words, muffling them out with the sniffle of his running nose and the blurring clogging of tears in his eyes. Yes, this child was sensitive to these torturous images... or rather, didn't know how to interpret it. He didn't understand why these things had happened within such a fragile mind. A mind laced with hope and purity, but yet dreams of sorrow and suffering. He couldn't understand it... but it was at this thought that he felt the gentle and soft pressure of Famine's thumb rub against his cheeks, forcing the stains of tears to his cheeks, wiping away the wetness and leaving a red area underneath his eyes and nose.

"True... depiction?" He spoke with a questionable and shaky tone, watching Famine make space for him. At first, he was hesitant to get any closer, feeling as if he was disturbing a peaceful slumber despite her making space for him. So he sat at the ledge of the bed, twiddling his thumbs together.

"Th...The world is is a pure place, though." Though his weeping had ceased, his voice was that of one crying, failing to understand the meaning beneath her words. Eventually, that same hesitation he felt just moments ago faded away, and proceeded to crawl underneath the sheets of her rather comfortable bed, scooting into her chest and nuzzling into it: perhaps from habit. He was a natural cuddler. But when his lips parted to speak once more, no words came out. He didn't know what to say. The words she spoke floated in his mind, still finding it troubling to truly understand it. But who was he to blame himself for having a fragile mind? This child was just that, a child. Innocent and vulnerable to the truth. So he find pleasure in living in pretty lies.

"So if your guild gets whatever they want, I can too?..." He asked rhetorically to himself, tension to his wording of 'guild' simply because he didn't really know what a guild was. But, the words settled to him for a moment, and then he cracked a smile through wet eyes.

"Then I want to find happiness, like everyone back home."

Or perhaps this was his home?

AND NOW ITS ENDING IN MY RESURRECTION

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Frankly, the information fed to the child was much to weigh on his fragile shoulders. He, in honesty, had little insight of the world's true depiction, or why he was having these dreams in the first place. These crude, dark nightmares that would haunt him in his wake and torture him in his slumber. He had no true understanding of why and when these things happened, or what this monster was that drowned him in a sea where man dare not step foot.

The raven-haired boy had laid there, close to Famine. - But not too close. He still felt unacceptably present. But it was then that she would gently hold him close with her icy, lukewarm skin. At first, the chill was contagious and completely unwanted by his body, but it was their warmth combined that made it truly comforting.

Ahote stopped shivering, and laid there motionless. Breathing gently, the heated breaths fizzing into the thin air of the room. He listened, silent, no words would slip between his soft lips and dry tongue. But it was at the moment that he would turn to face the window she had directed her finger at, brownish-red eyes gazing over the hazardous and roaring storm that gently raged just beyond these boundaries. Ahote shifted closer to Famine in a fright, uncomfortable by the sight.

But it was not the warm embrace that comforted him, it was her reasoning and understanding. Only a child found comfort in embraces, or so he thought, and although innocent, Ahote only barely grasped her worldview. Her grip stiffened, as did his body as she spoke. Power it was birthed? Ahote asked himself, letting that float in his mind for a moment.

A lot of images came to mind when she said this, his mother, his father, Uncle Heero and Spade, and Mister Sol. They all appeared to be powerful with their magics and will, determination and discipline at their finest. But was this a power they were born with and born to execute? Or was it the act of vigorous training and triggering experiences? Ahote did not know the answer, for he was so young and so innocent, the very concept of magic was news to him.

"My life and my possessions... or I'll..." He bit his lip to prevent himself from even saying the possibilities. "Famine, should I leave? This... building? He spoke in a melancholy tone, reluctant to ask, but he felt as if he were intruding.

AND NOW ITS ENDING IN MY RESURRECTION

Sorry I know this is short

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