I was not ready for the race to be over.
I wanted to keep going, keep running. I wanted to feel the burn rise-rise-rising in my chest until it- what? What did it feel like to hit my limit? I wanted to know if it was like running into a wall, or crumbling to ash, or nothing at all but the absolute silence that proceeds death, the quiet so heavy it siphons even light itself. But the race was definitively over- I ended it when I crossed the line first.
The thrill of victory only lasted a moment, and then, just like every other memory, it was behind me. Maybe that’s what prizes were really for- to bring back those feelings, which I now craved with an intensity that almost scared me.
But my prize could wait. In the madness that ensued after the fire race, I ducked away before the final ceremony. Even in my exhaustion it was almost too easy to slip away; the smoke and the hazy, flickering firelight welcomed me hungrily, swallowed me whole.
I paced from one fire to another with a leonine hunch of the shoulder and the manic sweeping of my horn back and forth, back and forth like an axe. It came to rest pointing at Isolt, who was on her knees, alone, before the fire. I straightened and stepped forward into the glow.
I was almost unrecognizable. Soot clung to my sweaty body, and my dark eyes reflected the fire as though they were little mirrors. In that moment the world seemed to close in around us so it was just me and her, two pieces without their matching half. My restlessness, my victory, my thoughts all flooded out of me, and the tide that replaced them had attention only for Isolt.
When I spoke I even sounded different, my voice low and hoarse with all the smoke. “Hello again.” I felt we had gotten off on the wrong foot. And perhaps there was no right foot to get off on, not with those sisters, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying. All my life I’ve strived to act on logic and rationality, to think everything through and make decisions based on what was most fair, or what would do the least amount of harm. It was a war against my true nature, for at heart I was a creature of instinct and intuition- and a stubborn longing for harmony which often made me do asinine things.
I didn't know what else to say. I knew I did not need this girl’s approval, or understanding, or friendship... But still I wanted it, a physical kind of wanting that bullied its way to the top of my mind and pressed against my eyes. When I blinked, or turned my head up to the smoky darkness of the nights, I saw the outline of my desire painted all electric-like on the back of my eyelids.
It was not yet dawn, not yet, and surely this night had more magic for me. I leaned in toward the fire and blew, gentle and steady. Heat flared and raced through the coals in streaks of brilliant orange-whites and deep, pulsing reds. At the end of my breath they settled once again into the resigned smolder of things claimed by a dying fire.
@Isolt
