(Forest) A Forest? Whats that about?

[Mark Alméida]

It was times like these Mark was glad that he had been granted a second chance at a possibly new bond of friendship. Times that would make him laugh with the other person and be able to generally, be himself around. Even though he was batantly stood there with a werewolf, for some reason that seemed trivial to him now, like it didnt even matter anymore and Mark liked this new feeling. It was ace!

Mark smiled, a big grin kind of smile. He was on the verge of laughing but tried to make himself stop so it ended up him having a very strange grin, which made him look almost psychotic. He watched as she lifted his arm, and when she spun him around he felt dizzy, but felt like he was in a mud-dance or something. He couldnt help a small laugh from escaping when Girty too tried a french accent, only for it to be less french and something more Geordie, like his was.

"Oh my madame!" Mark said once more in the feigned french accent, and once again failing completly, "You do have an eye for fasion! Especially in the cutting edge-mud style!" Though when she said war paint he didnt quite get what she meant, was she going to throw mud at him and make it an all out mudfight?

His question seemed to be answered shortly after he had asked himself. He stood there and let her draw on his face with mud, for all he knew she could be drawing anything. When she finished he struck a pose, his legs open, his hands on his hips, his head tilted slightly upwards with his eyes looking down and his lips pouted. Which just took away the Oh so manly pose for a more... Well... Gay one.

"And how do i look Madame Hubbles?" He asked, pouting his lips once more.

[Girty Hubbles]

Watching Mark pout and pose like he was a muggle model was the icing on the cake for Girty. She could feel the laugh building up and then she sort of exploded into a fit of giggles. She had one arm clinging around her stomach and the other one was flapping around in the air s she tried desperately to calm herself down and stop the continues laughter. After a minute or too when the pain started in her ribs and cheeks bones the laughter slowly dies out, although occasionally a small giggle would just slip out. With a few deep breaths and rubbing away the tears of laughter that had been streaming down her fast Girty finally was able to look at Mark and his mud painted face with out laughing.

“You could so pull that look off at the next ball. You would be the hit of the party and will create quite a few laughs.”

Girty gave Mark a quick smile before looking away as she realised she had just been looking at him and his mud covered garments. If it had not been for the nervous silences and the fact that Girty was still confused over how Mark was going to act around her then maybe this adventure would have been placed high on the list. But things could never be simple for Girty, not only did she have to make things complicated for herself she normal thought to hard on something and made it a big deal. Any sane person would have tired to forget about what had happened before, and Mark had sort of mentioned he would not hurt her in human form so she was safe.

With a deep sigh Girty looked back over at Mark a smile soon spreading across her face again at the mere sight of his war paint, she felt like something was missing through something that would complete the look then it struck her. Her eyes grew wide and Girty held up her wand and scanned the area around them with the light. With a broad smile Girty became to stride forward once more into the forest, knowing that mark was more the likely to follow her she reassured him what they were doing just in case.

“I think you need a flower in your air to complete the look, and if my memory serves me correctly there should be a clearing around her with a nice selection of flowers. Her voice dropt into a low mumble so that only she could hear “And I should know….I put them there.”

[Mark Alméida]

This was what Mark lived for, he loved making people laugh. He didnt know why but it made him feel better when someone cracked a smile or full on laughed at something he'd either done or said. He smiled when Girty had a fit of uncontrolable laughs and just stood there waiting for her laughs to die out. Though it didnt seem to be happening for a while as she stood ther clutching her stomache and wafting her hand in the air as though trying to fend off some invisible irritating bugs.

"Well then i may just have to try that wont i?" He gave a laugh, picturing himself walking into a dance with muddy robes and war paint over his face, posing too, like a muggle model. He was sure it would cause some laughs.

As silence fell over the two once more, Mark felt that awkward air streak up infront of them again. Unless the two was laughing, you could cut the tension in the air. Though Mark knew it was because of how he had reacted to her and he didnt blame her for it either. He knew if he was in her shoes he'd be thinking along the same lines. He didnt know what he could do to make her feel better around him, he knew though, it would come in time and they would either be fine with eachother or they wouldnt be. Only time would tell.

The sigh that Girty let out made Mark shuffle his feet in an awkward kind of way. It was strange, going from having a laugh to feeling awkward all in about two minutes. He forced himself to look up at her and gave a worried look when she was smirking at him. Now whats she upto? he thought to himself as their gaze matched each others.

She began to walk off. Leaving Mark once more flabberghasted into what the hell she was doing now. "A what?" He asked as he finally caught upto her. "A flower in my hair? Oh now that would be a picture" Mark smiled as he followed her, a flower in his hair would just put the icing on the cake. Laughing silently he wondered why they hadnt had a camera.

[Girty Hubbles]

Girty made her way slowly through the forest her wand held high letting the light fall down upon the ground around them. With a quick glance over her shoulder and saw that Mark was staying close she quickened her pace, jumping over the fallen braches and zig zagging in between the thick tree trucks. After she had been walking for almost 2 minutes she stopped lowered her wand and breathed in deeply smelling the air around them. They were getting close.

Girty’s grip tightened around her wand as her heart beat increased. Every time she grew close panic would set over her, the things the forest had witnessed always send a shiver down her spine. Swallowing hard and a small nod of the head to will herself on Girty took one step and then another slowly getting closer and closer to the clearing. The smell of burnt wood still clung to the close air, although not as much as it once had.

Soon the clearing came into view. The ground was trampled with only the strongest and luckiest parts of the undergrowth still standing tall. A shattered tree on the edge stuck out, shards of wood still littered the floor but a lot had been burnt by the fire. Its scorch marks still present showing just how much it had engulfed in such a small period of time. And it was there in the middle of the burnt patch the collection of flowers sat next to a stone with writing engraved into it. At the mere site of the battle field Girty froze, her mouth turned dry and emotion flooded over her, but she had to fight it. Turing to Mark with a weak smile Girty looked over his muddy robes and managed to let out a small laugh.

“I think a purple flower would suit it best.”

Girty wondered forward stepping carefully over the burnt ground and crouching carefully by the flowers. For a moment her eyes wondered over to the stone and she was lost in her thoughts and she mumbled something quietly to herself before carefully removing a purple flower from the collection. Standing up slowly Girty gave one last look down at where she was standing and walked back towards Mark. Once she had reached him she carefully reached up and slid the flower into his hair so it rested on top of his ear.

“Perfect. Your outfit is complete.”

[Mark Alméida]

Mark followed Girty through the forest, carefully stepping over tree roots and trying his best not to slip in any of the wet mud. Though he knew it would make no difference considering he was already full of mud. Mark tried matching her pace and ducking under low branches, only for his face to be grazed by them. He wasnt as homelike here as she seemed to be and wasnt able to match it. Eventually she stopped, giving Mark time to catch his breath. He hadnt realised just how out of shape he actually was.

Mark was clutching onto his side, his breating coming in short, sharp rugged breaths and the stitch in his side causing him pain. Mark was beginning to think this forest was a complete different world and had its own universe the amount it spanned out. It was huge and Mark was now definatly aware he didnt have a clue where he was anymore. Not that he ever did in the first place.

The began to move on again and he tried to forget about the pain in his side. He was trying to control his breathing too, though none seemed to be working that well for him. The pain was still there, and his breath was still short and ragged. Though after a few minutes the clearing came into view as Mark took in his surroundings. There seemed to have been a fire here, or some kind of battle anyway. There were flowers not to far from where they both stood, next to a stone wil an engraving on it that Mark couldnt quite make out. Something had happened here and Mark wasnt stupid enough to not know that Girty knew about it. He knew she knew what had happened, and he knew she knew whose that gravestone was. Though he wasnt going to question her about it.

He heard her say that a purple flower would suit him best and to be honest, he wasnt entirely comfortable with her picking flowers off someone elses grave to stick in his hair. Though again, he kept quiet. Which was a shock for Mark, usually he would be splurting out all the questions, but he thought this would be a touchy subject for her and he would only broach it if she did. No other time. He stood there quite still as she slid the flower into his har just above his ear. He gave a forced smile and tried to pose once more.

"How does it look now?"

Even though the words were spoken, they were forced. They had none of his former happyness in them, nothing fun was around these words even though he tried. They were empty and had no meaning. He tried to keep his eyes on hers, and tried to smile, both feats failing miserably.

[Girty Hubbles]

Sombrely Girty stood backwards and looked over Mark, his words carried non of the humour or fun that they had done only minutes ago, in fact it was rather uneasy. With a small smile Girty nodded her head not wanting to open her mouth in fear that it would waver and crack. She did not know why she had to lead him here, of all places why did she have to come up with the stupid idea of a flower and lead Mark here. Looking over her shoulder into the clearing Girty let out a rather loud huff. She had originally palled to come here, but now she was here and with someone else it did not seem right, she left like she was intruding on the sleep of the dead.

Taking a deep breath to try and stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes from falling Girty looked over marks shoulder, not wanting to look at him fully in fear of showing weakness. Conscious that she was not doing anything Girty began to play with the fried thread on the hem of her robe sleeve just hoping that either she or Mark would say something to end the silence.
Running her tongue over her lips Girty let go of her sleeve and let her arms hang loosely by her side and she final managed to find the will to look at Mark straight in the face. Although she could not conjure a smile she was able to bring a little bit of life into her voice.

“We best be off. I do not think it is wise to stay here for long. When I am here normally I always feel like I am being watched.”

Brushing past Mark Girty began to walk back out of the clearing , wanting to leave the memories and pain behind. She needed to move on but it was so hard and just coming back to this section of forest and thinking about Thom made it worse. In essence she knew she just wanted to say goodbye but never had the chance. Although only after a few steps Girty stopped and turned to look at Mark, a small glint slightly returning in her eye and a tiny smile passing over her lips.

“You lead for once. I am tired of deciding where we go. Besides it will be more fun when you end up getting us lost.”

With a noise that resembled something that could be classed as a laugh Girty stood to one side gesturing for Mark to take the lead. Not only did Girty think this would be the bets way for mark to learn his way around the forest then to get lost in it himself it also would give Girty time to think, she needed to clear her head and having to focus on where she was leading them would not help that.

[Mark Alméida]

Stood there, trying not to look at anything around them. It was awkward and Mark got this feeling that this place held some kind of meaning to Girty. Only he wasnt going to bring it up. Not now, now wasnt the time to be dragging up old memories. He knew how much the past could hurt and getting over it wasnt easy. Four years to the day something had happened in Marks life that had affected both him and his two sisters. Even know, the three of them still had problems dealing with it and getting over it, but Alexis had taken the blow more than Mark or Belle.

Mark let his head drop as his mind wandered to his less than connected family. His mother never spoke to them, or hardly, and he knew Alexis was still trying to get her to express some form of emotion. Alexis was forever snapping at Mark and the two were constantly arguing these days, which frustrated him because they used to be so close. Dyanneabelle on the other hand, she seemed to be the one trying to get the family to stay together, being only nearing eleven it was a difficult weight to carry, and yet Mark was the eldest, he should be the one doing that. But he wasnt.

"Yeah" Mark agreed, "Maybe its best we go"

Mark turned and followed Girty, his head bent low as he walked. The flower in his hair slowly slipping out and falling into the mud. He bent down to pick it up as he felt something wet slide down his back. Holding the purple flower in his hands he looked up to the sky, small speckles of rain had started to pour and Mark wasnt sure if this would be a good thing or a bad one.

"Fun" Mark said effortlessly as his eyes were fixed on the clouds as rain came down heavier. He stood up, holding the flower in his hands, looking at Girty as though he wanted to say something. Though he didnt and kept his thoughts to himself. When she stood aside he walked past her, the rain now coming heavier and all the war paint began to drip off his face. He looked around deciding which way to go and chose to go left, though he knew they had come in from the right.

He began to walk at a slow pace, though he had no idea where he was walking to, it just seemed his feet were walking without him thinking where they were heading. "You know we will get lost dont you?"

[Thom Moen]

When that little universe had collapsed, Thom had landed back down where he had died.

He had passed, crying tearlessly, down into the ground and burnt soil where his body had fallen, and for three months he had lay without breath or sleep or a moment’s relief from floating, unfeeling, untouchable, in a world he was supposed to have moved on from. What had Panos done?

There had been moments where the dead insects would tremble against his face, someone overhead walking on his original grave – where had his parents buried him, exactly? – severed flowers screaming as someone lay them over his head, their life bleeding out of their stems and down into Thom’s mouth like rain. Someone had sobbed for hours there; a girl’s voice it had taken Thom a week to realise was Girty. She hadn’t been back since – not until now.

Two presences, so many footfalls trampling through his black ceiling. There was a confusion of laughter and sad voices, long silences followed by magnanimous words. Thom had hid from the Living, so ashamed of being back, but now his nonexistent fingers clawed at the dirt around him and he rose, silently, up into the night time air. He hadn’t been above ground since his death, and despite having no nerve endings he reeled at the breeze, so alive in contrast to his awful state of nothingness. Thom thought he might cry.

Up ahead, the place where that reporter had lay confounded, stood Girty and a tall boy, one who looked almost exactly like Thom from behind. Her hair was longer, somehow dark regardless of the blackness around them, and hee looked down on the grave he hadn’t yet seen, a stone carved with Girty’s hand writing pushed into the mud where his chest had been. The flowers had stopped screaming weeks ago, dead but cruelly bewitched to keep their soft flesh and colour. He’d never seen them before but he sense there should have been a purple one among them.

It was now walking away with the other boy.

‘Er - not to ruin the moment or anything, but I think you have something that belongs to me.’ Thom said testily, crossing his arms unsmilingly, mad enough at Girty to be indifferent toward her reaction. Had she replaced him already?

[Mark Alméida]

He stopped for a moment and turned to Girty with a smile on his face. He didnt know what she had been through, he wasnt even sure he wanted to know. It was her business and besides, Mark had his own past to dwell on, he didnt really like the idea of having to dwell on anybody elses, as he was sure she wouldnt want to dwell on his, but he needed to say this to her anyway.
"I know in the past couple of hours we've had our disagreements, and I realise that we arent exactly what would fall under the title of friends but, you know if you need someone to talk to. My hands always loves a good natter!" he said with a smile. The only way he could say something serious without being angry was to make a joke out of it.

Mark turned to face the way he had been walking but his legs wouldnt move. Something had change and the air didnt feel right around him anymore. It had become stuffy, and Mark always became suspicious when something in the air changed, because he knew it was not a good sign.

He listened to the sounds around him. The trees rusling in the now non-exsistant breeze, the rain falling down over the earth. Tree trunks groaning, Marks own breathing. He wasnt stood close enough to hear Girty's so he didnt count that. He didnt know what was going on, that was when he heard another voice. One he knew didnt belong to either him or Girty, turning around his eyes fell upon someone else, and Mark had this feeling like, even though this guy was here, he wasnt supposed to be.

"I dont think there is a moment to be ruined, but i appreciate you trying" He stood his ground, his jaw tightening as he looked upon the male figure. Mark didnt have a clue who he was but he definatly seemed bitter, and Mark wasnt really one for tolerating bitter people. Whether they were meant to be here or not. "Lets see... Robes... Clothes... Shoes... Unless its something ive overlooked i dont see how anything i have could have ever belonged to a guy ive never even seen before."

[Girty Hubbles]

Girty took a deep breath and watched Mark take the lead, his robes floating behind him in the cool breeze. She did not follow him straight away something stopped her, looking up to the sky she noticed the rain he was mumbling about. The cold drops falling down upon her face as she stared up into the canopies and through the gaps in the trees. She had done this before, standing in the forest in the rain her feeling all mashed up inside although this time it was with someone was a very different personality.

Lowering her head Girty started to step forward, laughing lightly at Mark’s joke about them getting lost. In essence it was hard to get fully lost in the forest, well Girty found so anyway. She spent so much time in between the trees that it was second nature for to her walk down one path or through certain trees she had even grew accustomed to the smells and the sounds. Although her ears picked up something a voice, a voice that was so familiar to her but yet so strange. It was voice that had the power to stop her heart, make all her hair stand on end and set the burning desire off in the pit of her heart. She froze, staring blankly head of her trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

’It is the voices in your head again Girty, your want to see him. It is just like before you are hearing things.’ but no matter how much she tried to reassure herself that what she was hearing was just her own imagination she suddenly felt cold, like someone was standing behind her. Slowly Girty turned around with her eyes closed, she did not want to know what was behind her, she did not want to have to lay eyes on Thom’s grave once again. Trying to control her breathing Girty took a long deep breath and opened her eyes.

The she saw him, Thom, her Thom. The Thom who had died, he had died she saw his body…she saw it with her own eyes. But this Thom he was a silver haze, he was floating. It was too much for Girty to take in, too many emotions filling her at once. From a moment of stunned silence at seeing him it felt like her heart had been ripped in two. The pain was agonising, tears stung in her eyes her lower lip trembled almost as much as her shaking hands that were reaching up trying to cover her mouth as let out almost a bark of a laugh. Trying to focus her blurred eyes on Thom’s face her knees went weak and she fell to the forest floor, shoulders shaking, tears flowing more freely and she was desperately trying to stop the howls that were coming from her mouth every time she opened it to breath. Thumping the forest floor in frustration with herself for being so weak and Thom for doing this to her Girty looked up at him, her cheeks glistening with tears, her face was sketched with pain and anger. Opening her dry mouth a horse voice appeared from between sobs.

“You…you piece of dragon dung….why….why….”

It was too much she could not carry on, just seeing his face sent illation flooding through her that she would finally get the chance to say goodbye, but pure anger that he had left her. He had got himself killed when Girty needed him the most, when he knew what he meant to her.

[Mark Alméida]

Through the staring match of the ghost of whoever and Mark, he had made one fatal mistake. It had not occured to him to even bother about Girty, it seemed as though everything else just went away when this ghost tried to attack him in a verbal sort of way. It was discusting, when he finally saw Girty shrink to the floor, it was horrible to see what one ghost could do to someone. Even through the rain you could blatantly see she was crying, and this wound Mark up.

"Oh well done Mr Im-So-Great-Because-Im-Dead"

Mark glared for a moment more at the ghostly figure before walking over to Girty and slinking down next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders, throwing down the purple flower to the muddy floor. He didnt understand what had got her so wound up about this ghost but he didnt care. All he knew was that whatever it was, whoever he was, must have meant something to Girty when he was alive. Now his assumptions told him that the guy just popping back up had somehow, got her angry.

He kept his arm around her shoulder as he continued to glare at the ghost. He didnt care who it was, but he hated seeing people upset. In fact he could pretty much say he loathed it. Though that was only because he had spent so many years around upset and destroyed people. He couldnt bear to see anyone upset, it made him angry. Theres never a happy ending, for anybody... Is there he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes away from the male to Girty. He listened when she gave her outburst and was slightly taken aback, watching helplessly as more tears fell from her eyes, he pulled her to him and held her tightly, now looking upon the ghost with eyes full of malice.

"Well I hope your happy with yourself deadguy" Mark spat, "Do you get off on making people unhappy or something?"

All he could think of was how this was affecting Girty, he wouldnt even think of who the ghost was or what he had been through because in all honesty he didnt care anymore. He looked back down to Girty and tried to put as much comfort into his hug as he could muster. He had tried in vain for over an hour to make this girl crack a smile. And eventually he managed it, only to have it ruined by some idiot ghost.

[Girty Hubbles]

As Mark pulled her into a hug Girty could not help but wrap her own arms around him, squeezing him tightly as she fought as hard as she could to fight off the tears that were still falling from her now blood shot eyes. She felt safe in Mark’s arms, although uncomfortable knowing that Thom was watching over them, expectably when Marks started shouting at Thom. She was stuck between a rock and hard place. Should she stick up for the Thom who had left her feeling so rotten and tell Mark to shut up, or just stay here in his arms weeping in anger and shock that Thom was back and standing (well almost) in front of her.

Pulling away from Mark Girty wiped her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her robe and looked at Mark through her tear struck eyes. A soft smile was spreading across her face almost in thanks for running to her aid and standing up for her but yet he did not know what had happened. He did not understand what had happened in the past between Girty and Thom, and why this meant so much to her. Still shaking and the odd rouge tear rolling down her cheek Girty stood up and slowly walked over towards Thom. Her head spinning her heart pounding and every word she could possible think of was stuck in her throat.

As soon as her gaze passed onto over his handsome features Girty could feel the emotion building up again. Fighting so hard not to let it out she began to chew on her robe sleeve trying to stop any sound from escaping. Breathing in deeply through her nose her mind picked out old memories of Thom’s old aftershave pickled her senses and it teased her as she could not longer smell it upon him. Shaking her head Girty turned her back on Thom and walked towards Mark, she could not do it, she could not look upon his face without wanting to break down once again or pull out her want as cast as many spells upon him as she could think of.

[Mark Alméida]

Mark kept a hold of her when she wrapped her arms around him and clung on tightly. There were so many unanswered questions reeling around in Marks head, he was confused by the whole situation of things, annoyed because he seemed to have intruded on something that should have been private. Worried over Girty because she didnt seem able to do anything now but cry, and he knew that it was unhealthy. He didnt want to make her feel like he was trying to intrude, but he didnt want to leave her here either.

When Girty pulled away from him, he was relucant to let her go but he had a feeling like this was something she needed to do, so he unhooked his arms from around her and let her stand up, though watching her carefully all the way while still trying to keep an eye on the ghost. He watched a little uneasily as Girty made her way over to the ghostly figure and wanted nothing more than to just be able to comfort her right now, a time she seemed to need it. Though now, Mark knew the best thing to do was to be there when she wanted him to be there and not to keep on pushing.

He had to look away when her face turned to emotional again, he couldnt stand watching someone go through this much pain and torment. Not again, he had done it before and he knew how heartbreaking it was to watch someone go through it. He eventually tore his eyes away from the earth and back to Girty who seemed to be making her way back towards him. He tried to give her a comforting smile and held his hand out to her so she could take it if she wanted to. Though he wasnt going to force her to do it either.

[Erich Aubry]

Roman candle, roman California, roman spring. In this kingdom, under our jurisdiction, no one hero would ever die or lay down their lives again.

***

Like gods of old they crack with thunder, come in on the wind and build the houses of men, asking for nothing. Erich hears Thom speaking. Water pools at the roots of trees, runs down branches in discreet rivulets and so he comes to meet them. And there he's certain he can hear him, see Thom standing on his own death and not at all a ghost, his mind impossible to read now. Erich shouldn't be able to see him, not without the steady beat of nervous thought, or the little light of the soul (is there a soul?) like a gold leaf halo that appears above all minds extant. Not when Thom should be dead and beyond all this world's harm. But the four of them stand in the clearing, Erich dully aware of Girty and of Mark, who clasp in front of them as if dying were no such thing to them; it isn't. Does Thom see him? Erich steps in to the light, to be seen surely, hands on his hips that become more solid, more real in thinking it so. "Why would you ever, ever come back?" Slim winds bear leaves down in to the small hollows and pass through Thom, and pass through Erich, to the ground beneath them both.


You're not a purple flower to them and I'm no God.

[Thom Moen]

Thom’s nonchalant approach melted as the Gryffindor was first to turn around, and to Thom’s disappointment, totally unmoved. He had hoped his post-death debut would have been a little more focused on himself, but as Girty crumpled to the floor, her face an awful mask of agony, the smug replacement falling to her side dramatically, Thom felt somewhat cheated. The trees laughed, arching their backs in the night time breeze, and Thom scoffed, his arms dropping to his sides like dead weights. ‘Oh, well I’ll take not dying into account next time someone decides to kill me, shall I? I’d apologies if I wasn’t still a bit iffy about my own murder, but your grief quite obviously overshadows mine – and SHUT UP!’ He snarled at the replacement.

Thom suddenly shuddered, holding a hand to his chest as if pained, although pain wasn’t what he felt. He was furious, and the absence of a heart beating loudly in his chest frightened him with the same shock one would get when missing a step. In his mind he was angry, but no sickness burned his throat, no heavy fist gripped his guts. So many times as he had lay in his grave, Thom had felt hollow – but until now, in comparison to this unfeeling, he realised it had only been his imagination. This emotion without physical response was how he remembered hunger to feel, and he swallowed harshly, unable to shake such fierce misery.

Girty was in a state, pacing backwards and forwards, her face slick with tears in the moonlight like a stone shining with rain. Thom had had no reason to miss Girty, or anyone for that matter, but he understood her anguish – that terrible thought of never seeing someone you loved again. Thom had lay in the ground, dismissive of the blessing that he could have sought his friends out when he finally needed to, but the guilt of not coming to sooth Girty’s mourning sooner was much smaller than the horrible knowledge that he had been robbed of his death, of going where he had wanted to go – his Ultimate choice.

‘You!’ Thom reeled as something flickered on the edge of the trees, a dream, miraculously, hardening to the real world. Erich stood still on the expanse of ground between Thom and the insolent little lovebirds, looking at Thom in his typically serene, unnerving way. More than once Thom had speculated Erich, the idea of him a dark comfort for Thom in the beginning, an example of how Eternity could be used for great things. The violent memories Erich had burdened Thom with had always filled him with fear and loathing, but as Panos had let go of his hand and sent him hurtling back down through the clouds, Thom had already resolved to seek Erich out, beg for answers and a superior guide – to have another Zachary. But three months had already been long enough for Thom to decide one thing – Erich, for all his beautiful knowledge and perfect acceptance, for all his vicious tenderness – had completely lost his mind.

To his own surprise Thom approached Erich, something he would never have done while he was alive, and stood in front of him, bewildered and relieved. ‘I don’t know, actually. Someone intervened… but I think he tricked me. He told me I had to come back but I don’t know where I’m supposed to have gone…’ Thom’s face creased. He paused, listening to the preternatural sounds Erich must have learned to ignore. ‘Help me, won’t you? You’re meant to know everything.’