Here we go again!

Flynt was dead.

His dying breath was spent making sure his enemy met the same fate. He wasn't sure what exactly he did, but he knew the raw power achieved by sacrificing his physical body was immense. Even Elder Garrison wouldn't have been able to survive that, but Flynt still had doubts in the back of his mind. He started going over possible scenarios that would lead to Garrison's survival, but each scenario seemed more insane than the last.

It then occurred to him that he should be dead too, and if that was the case then why was he able to think these thoughts? Perhaps he was simply in some form of afterlife, doomed to be alone for all eternity in this dark empty setting. If he were alive he might have panicked, but there was no point now; the darkness couldn't hurt him as long as he was in this state.

Though it was a small movement, the sudden change from absolute stillness and limbo to solid form and falling caught him off guard. He didn't know which way was up, or where his head was, but he could feel his collective mass accelerating in one direction. Then he felt the heat. The void he just left was cold enough to make a temperate fall evening feel like the surface of a star. All at once his senses were overloaded as he suddenly felt his arms and legs again. He closed his eyes, but light flooded through his eyelids, bathing his vision in orange instead of the black he'd gotten used to. The wind pulled back on his clothing, and bombarded his ears with noise as it rushed past. He could breathe again. He opened his eyes and saw the grass covered edge of a small lake below him. On the grass sat a cabin below and in front of him, and to his right, a forest. His speed was slowing and the cabin was growing smaller; he'd been falling up the entire time. As he reached the apex of his ascent, he realized that his fall wouldn't be pleasant unless he did something about it.

Flailing his arms about, he made his best attempt to expend whatever energy he had to break his fall. The best he managed was a burst of shadow from the ground that enveloped him, slowing his descent by enough to keep him from dying on impact. Despite his efforts, his landing produced a snapping sound, and a searing pain that shot up his right arm. He managed to stay awake and turn his head to the side, getting his face out of the dirt. Though he knew it was a bad idea, he still tried to move; his arm reminded him that it was probably broken, which meant that he'd be useless in a fight considering he was also too dazed to focus on anything magical. He was helpless, and even though the people who were after him might not be around at the very moment he knew that someone lived in that cabin, and would likely discover him soon.

Flynt managed to move his head to the front, and lean slightly with the support of his good arm. Someone was approaching. They stopped in front of him.

Your time's up. He heard himself think. I wonder who has the honor of killing you.

Flynt's vision began to focus as the person kneeled down next to him and placed their hands on his head. It was somewhat soothing, a gentle, kind touch. It wasn't what he expected at all; it reminded him of someone.

"Molly?" Flynt croaked.

Flynt's vision continued to clear; he could see long black hair and golden eyes. Those eyes… Flynt couldn't stop staring at them, they way they seemed to glow was almost hypnotizing. He felt hopelessly lost, adrift in the warm golden glow. It was the opposite of what he'd just experienced, and gave him comfort where the void gave him fear.

Flynt raised his hand and grabbed ahold of something fuzzy and warm. He felt his hand being slapped away quickly.

The person stood, and Flynt watched her walk away. She returned after a short time with something in her arms.

"Molly," Flynt repeated.

"Yeah." was the woman's response

"Moll-" Flynt's repetition was cut short by a spike of pain in his right arm. He yelled as he jerked out of the woman's arms and fell back to the ground, adding to his pain which further increased his volume. His vision was starting to fade. The woman might have said something before she grabbed his other arm, but Flynt wasn't sure. His head no longer hurt, but he now felt weightless everywhere except for his feet. It was the last thing he felt before blacking out.

He wasn't dead. Not yet.

Heeeeere weeeeee gooooooo. Going through the same thiiiiing.

Thank you for your kind and supportive words. Here's to new beginnings.

GG