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His mind was waking up as well.

It felt like swimming upward, trying to get your whole body out of a pool.

He was doing it, however.

His eyes regained their color as he breathed in deeply, loudly inhaling.

Nothing stood out as he regained awareness of his surroundings.

In a flash, the past events since the death of his mother went through his mind, like a movie reeling it in before the curtain dropped.

His hand tightly grabbed the thin bed cover as he blankly stared into the void.

He finally sat upright, looking at a room he recognized.

Turning toward the side of the bed, he let his feet drop to the cold floor.

He touched his forehead, realizing he was surprisingly hot.

He took a few steps, staggering for balance. He used his only arm, flailing it around to regain control.

Tremors took his legs. He hit it with his closed fist without any result. He went forward, leaning against the wall as he walked forward.

Everything was as he remembered. The first thing he truly noticed was the Unkindled repositioning itself, snapping his attention to him.

He then saw the recycler, his faithful ally. Without it, this room would not be as comfortable as it was.

The cooking fire, the buckets of water, chests, drawers, everything was he remembered it.

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He kept walking forward, soon pushing the wall and going toward the fire.

Once he reached it he sat two meters from it, letting his legs rest.

He opened the shop, getting water to drink.

He had some already that he could\'ve used, but he felt lazy, and wanted something as fresh as possible.

He didn\'t use a mug and drank straight from the jug, keeping it nearby. He made sure to drink in small amounts, despite his thirst screaming for an ocean.

He was halfway through the jug when he suddenly felt tired, laying on his back against the floor, his only hand acting like a pillow as he closed his eyes once more.

For once, however, he was sleeping. Not struggling to stay afloat, his head above water while paddling with his feet.

No whirlpool pulled him down, no darkness was grabbing him, creeping up his body, trying to pull it toward abyssal depths.

Nothing clouded his mind, not mist layered his thoughts.

It was peaceful, serene, and quiet.

It felt like he was back home during a thunderstorm.

The distant thunder and the rain tapping against his window, while his mother cooked for him.

The sound of the pause menu from a game on the television playing on repeat.

His cat would be on his lap, and for that moment he would have no earphones, headphones, or anything that would disconnect him at that time.

Thunder would resound again, and again, and again. He would look outside his window, looking at the elements unleashing themselves against anything it could see.

The tranquility of watching the flashes of light, or hearing Maya\'s screams.

The wind fighting against the concrete buildings and metal poles.

It reminded him of popular paintings depicting nature unleashing itself, uncaring and unwavering.

He made sure his rocking chair was close to that window, so he could stare at Torryn\'s gouged out eyes.

He could hear it, through the whistling of the wind, the screams and cries. The begging and praying.

His mother would ask him if he was hungry, from the kitchen.

His answer mattered little. She would make him something, anyway.

The thunder would hit repeatedly. Every time it did, his chains were piercing someone else. A father and his kid, a husband with his wife, a grandmother with her grandson.

The next thunder resounding was the water jug next to him falling down as he reached out.

Quickly gasping for air, Mori sat upright.

His hand was trembling as it held his heart.

Why was it beating so fast?

He could feel the back of his neck cold and in sweat, this tingling uneasy feeling.

It was as if the room was shrinking, his breathing rapidly increasing while his eyes darted left and right.

His vision was blurry, the rate of his heart only increasing with the speed at which he looked around for something familiar to lay his eyes on.

Mori?

Rapidly turning around, Mori finally saw the unkindled sitting behind while its round eyes were staring at him.

Mori quickly grabbed it, holding it against his chest while his heartbeat kept increasing.

Against the chaos, he could feel a faint purring.

Was the Unkindled always purring?

He never really held him often, and for long enough, had he only realized?

His trembling was slowing down. The low rumbling of the Unkindled against his own heart made it quiet down.

He was finally able to close his eyes.

He breathed in.

Then out.

In.

Out.

Minutes later, when he opened his eyes again, the blurriness was gone.

The Unkindled\'s round eyes were looking up from his chest, his cosmic stare directed at him.

Mori smiled, letting him back on the ground with his hand still slightly trembling.

He stretched his neck; it felt sore and tense, before getting up.

He kept controlling his breathing while pacing around the room.

On his second lap, he noticed the piece of paper on the table.

"What\'s this?" asked Mori.

Aleesia left it for you, in case you woke up.

"Where did she go?"

She left to climb the dungeon.

"How long ago?"

She left weeks ago.

"When\'s the last time she came back?"

Weeks ago.

Mori, She Died.

[

Dear Mori,

I hope by the time I am back, you will be well rested and back on your feet. I did everything the right way, as you have shown me.

The dishes are separated, I have not mixed the plates and utensils in the drawer, again. The laundry is done. I fail to see the importance of separating colors. After a thorough cleaning, I can tell you nothing bad happened. I think you\'ve been overreacting. Respectfully.

I have done everything I could think of, and it\'s been days since you were last conscious.

As I tend to you, I realize I can\'t tell how long you will be asleep.

My lifespan is pretty high. I can easily wait here forever, making the walls ever so shiny and the floors looking like mirrors.

However, I realized I was the one who asked you to lean on me, and you did.

As I kept cleaning this room, and cooking meals that just can\'t seem to taste right, I realized what it meant to have you leaning on me.

It didn\'t mean to keep doing all of this.

There are things you value, and while cleanliness is one of them, I know there\'s a lot more behind.

You have taken drastic measures to be able to save your friend, \'Aura\'.

I hope she\'s really \'pretty\'.

Anyways.

You\'ve taken risks, and went beyond what normal people would for that person, and while I\'m staying here, that person who\'s important to you is slowly dying.

I don\'t want you to wake up, seeing me by your bedside in this clean room asking me what day it is, only to realize your important person is most likely dead.

You\'ve been out of it for days, but those days could turn into weeks, or months.

For that reason, when you wake up I will most-likely be in an epic battle to save your princess, like in mythology books.

—I did kiss you while you slept, so there\'s a big chance you\'re a father now.—

Do not worry. I will throw my bow at the enemy only if it\'s the last option available, and I\'ll keep the running away to a minimum.

I\'ve learned a lot, and I won\'t push myself too hard.

If you\'re reading this, it means I haven\'t made it back from a level yet, so just sit tight, don\'t move too much, drink a lot of water, and if you wait a bit, I\'ll make you some soup. The good kind.

Kind regards,

Aleesia.

]

The silence in the room, which had been undisturbed for so long, was broken.

It felt as if the walls were crumbling; the ceiling collapsing upon him.

He screamed.

He hit the floor with his fist, his knuckles breaking, leaving blood everywhere.

"Why didn\'t you wait?!"

His screams echoed on the walls, the Unkindled slowly lying down, hiding its face under its paws.

From his eyes, tears dropped.

"Why not... just wait?"

He was wiping his eyes.

"I can\'t even read elvish..."

He was wiping more and more violently, yet the tears made their way out regardless, the amount only increasing.

His eyes and face were red.

He felt like bashing his head against the floor.

His hand was on the floor, as he was on his knees, gasping for air.

His heart.

It felt like it would break.

He fell flat to the floor, letting go of the control he had.

Then everything stopped.