- F-H Revolutionary -
- Weapon Type: Staff -
On that day, the boy discovered his light anew. He faces the tragedy his own mistakes wrought and the foolishness of the ideals he held. He knows the intentional, organized cruelty of the societal structures humans establish. Consumed by despair, the boy lost his light. Many sneered at his dream, calling it unattainable. But no amount of ridicule could convince him to give up on his dream, or saving those who need help. Rising to his feet, he flings open the door before him.
"If conflict breeds conflict... then surely dreams must breed dreams."
The path home is coated in rust. A choice. A wheeze that scrapes the throat. Forms. Numbers. Isolated light. Even the scent of spilled blood is as a distant memory.
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Unacceptable footwear. A boast. A murmur. The wind that grazes my cheek and light that enter my eyes are rough comfort for an ailing heart. A voice without a face. Curtains. Upside-down footsteps. Darkness.
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I turn my back to the shadow knocking on my door and venture down a passage unknown, casting myself into the void. A boundary. A buzzing sound. A light trap. It is as wondrous as it is comforting.
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Words. My name. My senses. Blurry scenery. To me, perhaps it was all nothing but a convenient sham. But even so, I will face my mistakes, embrace my pain, and dream a dream that soars to the sun.
