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The ground is hard beneath him, cold seeping into his body, chilling him to his core. Nirvana rumbles all around him, but the noise is just a distant echo. His senses are failing him. With enormous effort, he pulls an arm up and wraps it across his stomach, trying in vain to stem the bleeding, or at least keep his insides from spilling out. He breathes in a shaky breath, and chokes on a mouthful of hot coppery blood. His vision blurs. It won't be long now. He knows it will be over soon.
I failed, his thoughts whisper. I failed you all.
Flashes of memory dance before him.
A girl with white hair and big, brown, innocent eyes. She grasps a soft feather like it was a sacred totem. She's always the one to try to comfort and shush him when the screams became too much. "You have to be quiet," she would say. "If you cry they'll come and punish us." She lies next to him and holds onto him, telling him how, one day, they'll all be free from this dreadful earth, and vanish into the heavens. Goodbye Angel.
A boy with a long nose and pointed yellow eyebrows. He's always running away from the guards, always trying to escape. And each time he is caught, beaten, and thrown straight back in his cell. The other children both admire his determination, and wonder at his foolishness. They ask him why he bothers, everyone knows there is no escape from here. "At least I'm not sitting around crying like you sissies," the boy says angrily. "One day I'll run so fast they'll never catch me." Goodbye Racer.
Another boy, big, round and soft looking, and older than the rest. A gentle giant that always tries to ease everyone else's burdens, subtly moving rocks from their piles to his. He takes the blame when carts topple over, their bearer too weak to right it before a guard comes charging with a whip. "Why are you helping us?" they all ask. "You should save your strength for yourself." The boy just says, "I don't mind. You're all like little brothers and sisters to me." A dark shadow falls over the memory. I hope your real family is more to your taste. Goodbye, Richard.
The boy with the brownish red hair. He always has a little purple snake somewhere on him, wrapped around his arm, or hidden in his shirt. Once, a group of adults, eyes wild and animalistic, grab the snake from him, and fight amongst themselves, each trying to shove the snake in their mouth. The boy screams bloody murder, punching and clawing at them, but with little effect. For once the guards save the day. The snake is dropped during the struggle, and the boy flees with it, stuffing it into a hole in the wall. "Just stay quiet for now, ok?" he says. "I'll hear your voice one day." Goodbye Cobra.
And then a huge man, not of the tower. He is healthy, well fed, carrying a skull-faced staff. The blue-haired boy grins maniacally as he hands them over to him. They are all wary of the man, keeping their eyes locked on him, but he brakes their chains, gives them warm clothes, more food than they can eat, and shows them his amazing magic. He set them free, made them powerful, raised them up above the memory of that tower. "But I need your help in return," he asks. "I know you won't let me down." Of course they do his bidding. Everything the Oracion Seis does is for his sake. Goodbye Father... I'm so sorry...
The memories fade along with his sight. His body won't move any more. Maybe his prayer will finally be answered. Maybe he'll finally be able to sleep in peace.
Goodbye, Midnight.
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