Yu’s eyes drifted towards his luggage. All his stuff was still, well, stuffed in that one corner between the bed and the wardrobe, except for the few things he had rummaged through when searching for more layers of clothing, earlier, before the witch appeared. Amid the clutter on the floor, his gaze fixed on a glass bottle. A gush of greyish liquid clung to the bottom; one last dose. It was the stamina potion Harrow had given him on the third day of the trek. He stared at it, wondering, for a random moment, why he had not used it up completely.
Always
leave one.
Yes. That was it.
That saying about emergencies.
The memory was there, somewhere, and also something of a voice, though hazy. Yu did not know where he had heard it, nor could he explain to himself when he had ever seen the Snowtrail trek as anything less than an ongoing emergency. More likely and much simpler, Yu had left that last sip untouched because the potion was utter shit. He remembered the false hope. After the first try, he had expected a surge — some sort of noticeable burst of strength and, well, obviously, stamina. He had expected to feel relief. Less pain. Less fatigue. Something good. Anything, really. But the thing was a joke, another fucking joke these people loved to play on him. It had done almost nothing; probably the cheapest potion they could spare. Every time he had used it, it had only ever made him feel half a step less close to death from exhaustion. It was like feeling slightly less shitty when you had already been wading through a mire of shit for an eternity, like the difference between drowning and keeping one’s beak just above the surface — which had made no difference for his general state of shittyness during all those shit hours and shit days and shit weeks, except that Yu gained the resolve to keep fighting through the Albweiss shitstorm instead of straight up hauling himself off a cliff.
His gaze shifted back to the window.
Yu’s eyes drifted towards his luggage. All his stuff was still, well, stuffed in that one corner between the bed and the wardrobe, except for the few things he had rummaged through when searching for more layers of clothing, earlier, before the witch appeared. Amid the clutter on the floor, his gaze fixed on a glass bottle. A gush of greyish liquid clung to the bottom; one last dose. It was the stamina potion Harrow had given him on the third day of the trek. He stared at it, wondering, for a random moment, why he had not used it up completely.
Always
leave one.
Yes. That was it.
That saying
about emergencies.
The memory was there, somewhere, and also something of a voice, though hazy. Yu did not know where he had heard it, nor could he explain to himself when he had ever seen the Snowtrail trek as anything less than an ongoing emergency. More likely and much simpler, Yu had left that last sip untouched because the potion was utter shit. He remembered the false hope. After the first try, he had expected a surge — some sort of noticeable burst of strength and, well, obviously, stamina. He had expected to feel relief. Less pain. Less fatigue. Something good. Anything, really. But the thing was a joke, another fucking joke these people loved to play on him. It had done almost nothing; probably the cheapest potion they could spare. Every time he had used it, it had only ever made him feel half a step less close to death from exhaustion. It was like feeling slightly less shitty when you had already been wading through a mire of shit for an eternity, like the difference between drowning and keeping one’s beak just above the surface — which had made no difference for his general state of shittyness during all those shit hours and shit days and shit weeks, except that Yu gained the resolve to keep fighting through the Albweiss shitstorm instead of straight up hauling himself off a cliff.
His gaze shifted back to the window.
He could still
do it .
He could still
do it .
The thought did not rise suddenly.
It was quiet, simply there, just lingering;
the impulse, unreasonable yet undeniable.
Yu could go outside, step into the violent winds, jump, and end it all;
the pressure, the constant narrowing of choices, the unbearable angst and anxiety.
If he were a proper fina, he could have tried his luck at flying.
Though, you needed a mountain of luck to survive the Albweiss storms.
Especially tonight.
Tonight, the mountain was howling,
and Yu could not shake the feeling
that something was coming.
The thought did not rise suddenly.
It was quiet, simply there, just lingering;
the impulse, unreasonable yet undeniable.
Yu could go outside, step into the violent winds, jump, and end it all;
the pressure, the constant narrowing of choices,
the unbearable angst and anxiety.
If he were a proper fina, he could have tried his luck at flying.
Though, you needed a mountain of luck to survive the Albweiss storms.
Especially tonight.
Tonight, the mountain was howling,
and Yu could not shake the feeling
that something was coming.
The thought
did not rise suddenly.
It was quiet,
simply there,
just lingering;
the impulse,
unreasonable
yet undeniable.
Yu could go outside,
step into the violent winds,
jump, and end it all;
the pressure,
the constant narrowing
of choices,
the unbearable
angst and anxiety.
If he were a proper fina,
he could have tried his luck
at flying.
Though, you needed
a mountain of luck
to survive
the Albweiss storms.
Especially tonight.
Tonight, the mountain
was howling,
and Yu
could not shake
the feeling that
something was coming.
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