When I am not in the card or in a duel, I am in the Spirit World.
It is… lonely. In a duel, it is not so bad because there are other Spirits. But in your card, you are alone. It is quite dark, and there is not anything in there. It is just… you. Waiting to be summoned or drawn so you can see at least something else that is not the darkness of being in a card or placed between other cards. I often wonder if the other Spirits feel the same about their cards. Surely, the do not feel the same about the Spirit World.
When I am there, I am reminded of how I am the only one, of us three, that is released from our icy prison. And "lonely" does not begin to describe how I feel.
Ten. Thousand. Years. Ten thousand years in ice. In darkness. In silence. I hated it. Loathed, it. I did not like the silence then, and I do not like it now. Not when it means I am the only one here and Critias and Hermos… they are still trapped.
I miss hearing Hermos being completely obnoxious at times. I miss getting into arguments with him because he does not think. I miss that smell of wilderness on him when he goes out to hunt. I miss feeling how small and soft my hands are compared to his large and callousy ones.
I miss Critias. I miss hearing his sarcastic remarks. I miss his purple eyes that seem to know everything. I miss his soft skin. I miss feeling him around me. I miss seeing his muscles work. I miss the smell of the library on his clothes, I miss his lips, his touch, his heartbeat—
I miss everything.
The comfort of the other Spirits does not do much. How can they know how it feels? Knowing that this was your fault. Knowing that they should had been released, and not you. Where are their Summoners? Why have they not released them yet?
Why?
Being here… laying in front of Critias, hoping that someone is coming to free them… it hurts.
So. Much.