The sun would soon set maroon over the black delta, dancing light through fields of blood grass. Red vapor rose from the waters. Patch of flesh trees bespeckled their shore with murders of crows roosting amongst their limbs. The trio stood on the foothills between the crags and flats. Kadabra pointed to one stretch of grassland with a perfect circular burn.
"That is base camp. "
The kitsune glanced over Golett's shoulder. "Can they talk?"
The statue nodded. "They were earlier." Kadabra turned away and began floating down the hill. Golett followed, dragging their boots through the ashfall. As they reached the edge of the grasslands, the Honedge began muttering.
"I promised Suzie I'd take her to the library today."
The fox lady raised one eyebrow. "Come again?" she said, tilting her head to the side.
"Do you think she is sitting by my bedside?"
Kadabra turned to Golett, eyebrows raised and eyes squinted. The statue shrugged, raised a gauntlet to their head and spun one finger near their temple.
"Honedge-" Kadabra began.
"My name is John."
The kitsune rubbed the bridge of her snout. She sighed, ears twitching.
"Say my name. " The Honedge continued.
Kadabra's posture straightened. Her ear tips curled. Her teeth bared. As she reached for a bag on her belt, Golett spoke to the weapon over their shoulder.
"Hone- John! John. We can't…" Golett glanced at Kadabra and cringed upon seeing the fire in her eyes. "I can't read minds." The statue shook their head. "Why do you think you're dreaming?"
"Haha… ha… ahahaha…" The Honedge's manic laughter carried over the planes. "The literal hellscape could've tipped me off or, I don't know, the fact that I woke up as a goddamn sword!"
"John… calm down."
"Calm down? Calm down!? I left my family behind and you expect me to calm down!?"
Golett looked back to Kadabra, but she had her back to the duo. They could not see a tear trickling down her face.
"You want to return to your family, right?"
"No shit sherlock!"
"We'll try to help you get back, but you'll need to work with us."
"I-" the Honedge trailed off. A breeze rustled the blood grasses in front of the group, whistling through the blades like a chorus of a thousand tiny flutes. The wind died slowly.
The Honedge's voice was barely a whisper. "What… what should I do?"