The rain fell in sheets.

Ward sat on the wet stone.

He was a guard.

His armor was dented.

It smelled of rust.

He held a bowl.

It was clay.

Inside was porridge.

Oatmeal.

Thick.

Gray.

He did not eat.

He watched the water drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The castle walls loomed.

Black.

Towering.

They swallowed the sky.

Ward was small.

He was tired.

His bones ached.

The pain was deep.

It lived in his marrow.

It was a cold thing.

It ate him.

He was a soldier.

He fought for the King.

The King was cruel.

The King took land.

The King took names.

Ward obeyed.

He had no choice.

The law was stone.

He hit the stone.

He broke his hand.

The stone did not care.

Ward did not care.

He wanted to die.

But he could not.

The duty held him.

It was a chain.

It was a noose.

It was tight.

It squeezed his throat.

He gasped.

He breathed.

The porridge sat cold.

It was food.

But it was poison.

It filled him.

It made him heavy.

He could not move.

He was a vessel.

A broken vessel.

The rain continued.

It washed the dust.

It washed the blood.

It washed the soul.

Ward looked up.

The sky was gray.

No sun.

No light.

Only rain.

Only cold.

He was alone.

He had always been alone.

His wife was gone.

Dead.

The plague took her.

The plague took his child.

Only he remained.

A ghost.

A shadow.

He picked up the bowl.

His hand trembled.

The clay was rough.

It bit his palm.

He brought it to his mouth.

He tasted the grain.

It was bitter.

It was raw.

It was life.

He hated it.

He loved it.

He drank.

The liquid burned.

It went down his throat.

It heated his chest.

The pain lessened.

The cold retreated.

For a moment, he was warm.

For a moment, he was whole.

Then the hunger returned.

It was a beast.

It roared.

It demanded more.

Ward looked at the bowl.

It was empty.

He felt the emptiness inside.

It was vast.

It was dark.

It was infinite.

He was the emptiness.

The emptiness was him.

They were one.

He could not separate them.

He was the hunger.

The hunger was the guard.

He stood up.

His legs shook.

He gripped the hilt.

The sword was dull.

It had seen blood.

It had seen death.

It was tired.

Ward was tired.

He walked to the gate.

The gate was iron.

It was locked.

He knocked.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The sound echoed.

It was sharp.

It was lonely.

A guard appeared.

Young.

Fresh-faced.

He looked at Ward.

His eyes were wide.

Fear.

Ward said nothing.

He just stared.

The young guard stepped back.

He opened the gate.

A crack.

Light spilled out.

It was pale.

It was cold.

Ward stepped through.

He was outside.

The road was mud.

It was deep.

It sucked his boots.

He walked.

The rain stopped.

The clouds broke.

A moon appeared.

It was full.

It was white.

It shone on the road.

It shone on Ward.

He felt the light.

It touched his face.

It was warm.

It was soft.

It was love.

It was the only love left.

He walked on.

The path was long.

It led to the hills.

The hills were high.

The air was thin.

He climbed.

The wind bit.

It cut his skin.

He did not care.

He climbed higher.

The world fell away.

The castle was small.

The pain was small.

The hunger was small.

He reached the top.

He stood on the rock.

He looked down.

The world was dark.

The stars were bright.

They were far.

They were cold.

He was close.

He was warm.

He looked at his hands.

They were clean.

The blood was gone.

The rust was gone.

He was free.

Or was he?

The hunger was still there.

It was quiet.

It was patient.

It waited.

It knew him.

It was him.

He could not escape.

He was the beast.

The beast was the man.

He sat down.

The rock was cold.

The air was still.

He closed his eyes.

He listened.

To the wind.

To the stars.

To his heart.

It beat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

It was strong.

It was steady.

It was alive.

He opened his eyes.

The moon was setting.

The light faded.

The dark came.

He was alone.

He was always alone.

He picked up a stone.

It was gray.

It was smooth.

He held it.

It was heavy.

It was solid.

It was real.

He threw it.

It flew.

It fell.

It vanished.

The void took it.

The void took him.

He felt the pull.

It was strong.

It was gentle.

It was kind.

It was death.

He welcomed it.

He let go.

The armor fell.

The bowl fell.

The man fell.

He was dust.

He was wind.

He was rain.

He was nothing.

He was everything.

The hunger was satisfied.

The pain was gone.

The duty was done.

The song ended.

Silence.

Deep silence.

The stars blinked.

One by one.

They went out.

The dark was total.

The dark was complete.

Ward was gone.

The road remained.

The mud remained.

The rain would come again.

The hunger would return.

But not for him.

He was free.

He was the song.

The song was golden.

It hung in the air.

It did not fade.

It did not die.

It waited.

For the next guard.

For the next soul.

For the next hunger.

The cycle turned.

The wheel rolled.

The stone cracked.

The clay broke.

The man was dust.

The dust was earth.

The earth was home.

The home was grave.

The grave was rest.

The rest was peace.

The peace was silence.

The silence was gold.

The gold was light.

The light was life.

The life was hunger.

The hunger was Ward.

Ward was the end.

The end was the beginning.

The beginning was the end.

The circle closed.

The loop snapped.

The thread broke.

The knot untied.

The rope cut.

The chain snapped.

The lock opened.

The door swung.

The wind blew.

The dust settled.

The stone lay still.

The rain fell.

The world turned.

The star rose.

The moon set.

The sun rose.

The day began.

The guard stood.

The hunger woke.

The pain returned.

The duty called.

The name was spoken.

The order was given.

The sword was drawn.

The blood was spilled.

The soul was lost.

The song began.

The golden song.

It sang in the bone.

It sang in the blood.

It sang in the rain.

It sang in the dark.

It sang in the light.

It sang in the silence.

It sang in the noise.

It sang in the heart.

It sang in the void.

It sang in the self.

It sang in the other.

It sang in the world.

It sang in the end.

It sang in the beginning.

It never stopped.

It never faded.

It was eternal.

It was absolute.

It was true.

It was real.

It was Ward.

Ward was it.

It was the hunger.

The hunger was it.

It was the guard.

The guard was it.

It was the stone.

The stone was it.

It was the clay.

The clay was it.

It was the rain.

The rain was it.

It was the blood.

The blood was it.

It was the soul.

The soul was it.

It was the end.

The end was it.

It was the beginning.

The beginning was it.

It was the song.

The song was it.

The golden song.

The song of Ward.

The song of the guard.

The song of the hunger.

The song of the stone.

The song of the clay.

The song of the rain.

The song of the blood.

The song of the soul.

The song of the end.

The song of the beginning.

The song of the self.

The song of the other.

The song of the world.

The song of the void.

The song of the light.

The song of the dark.

The song of the silence.

The song of the noise.

The song of the peace.

The song of the pain.

The song of the duty.

The song of the love.

The song of the hate.

The song of the fear.

The song of the hope.

The song of the despair.

The song of the joy.

The song of the sorrow.

The song of the anger.

The song of the calm.

The song of the fire.

The song of the ice.

The song of the wind.

The song of the water.

The song of the earth.

The song of the air.

The song of the star.

The song of the moon.

The song of the sun.

The song of the sky.

The song of the sea.

The song of the mountain.

The song of the valley.

The song of the tree.

The song of the flower.

The song of the bird.

The song of the beast.

The song of the man.

The song of the woman.

The song of the child.

The song of the old.

The song of the young.

The song of the dead.

The song of the living.

The song of the past.

The song of the future.

The song of the present.

The song of the now.

The song of the then.

The song of the never.

The song of the always.

The song of the here.

The song of the there.

The song of the self.

The song of the other.

The song of the one.

The song of the many.

The song of the whole.

The song of the part.

The song of the fragment.

The song of the unity.

The song of the division.

The song of the connection.

The song of the separation.

The song of the reunion.

The song of the parting.

The song of the coming.

The song of the going.

The song of the staying.

The song of the leaving.

The song of the arriving.

The song of the departing.

The song of the beginning.

The song of the end.

The golden song.

The song of Ward.

Ward was the song.

The song was Ward.

Ward was the hunger.

The hunger was Ward.

Ward was the guard.

The guard was Ward.

Ward was the stone.

The stone was Ward.

Ward was the clay.

The clay was Ward.

Ward was the rain.

The rain was Ward.

Ward was the blood.

The blood was Ward.

Ward was the soul.

The soul was Ward.

Ward was the end.

The end was Ward.

Ward was the beginning.

The beginning was Ward.

Ward was the self.

The self was Ward.

Ward was the other.

The other was Ward.

Ward was the world.

The world was Ward.

Ward was the void.

The void was Ward.

Ward was the light.

The light was Ward.

Ward was the dark.

The dark was Ward.

Ward was the silence.

The silence was Ward.

Ward was the noise.

The noise was Ward.

Ward was the peace.

The peace was Ward.

Ward was the pain.

The pain was Ward.

Ward was the duty.

The duty was Ward.

Ward was the love.

The love was Ward.

Ward was the hate.

The hate was Ward.

Ward was the fear.

The fear was Ward.

Ward was the hope.

The hope was Ward.

Ward was the despair.

The despair was Ward.

Ward was the joy.

The joy was Ward.

Ward was the sorrow.

The sorrow was Ward.

Ward was the anger.

The anger was Ward.

Ward was the calm.

The calm was Ward.

Ward was the fire.

The fire was Ward.

Ward was the ice.

The ice was Ward.

Ward was the wind.

The wind was Ward.

Ward was the water.

The water was Ward.

Ward was the earth.

The earth was Ward.

Ward was the air.

The air was Ward.

Ward was the star.

The star was Ward.

Ward was the moon.

The moon was Ward.

Ward was the sun.

The sun was Ward.

Ward was the sky.

The sky was Ward.

Ward was the sea.

The sea was Ward.

Ward was the mountain.

The mountain was Ward.

Ward was the valley.

The valley was Ward.

Ward was the tree.

The tree was Ward.

Ward was the flower.

The flower was Ward.

Ward was the bird.

The bird was Ward.

Ward was the beast.

The beast was Ward.

Ward was the man.

The man was Ward.

Ward was the woman.

The woman was Ward.

Ward was the child.

The child was Ward.

Ward was the old.

The old was Ward.

Ward was the young.

The young was Ward.

Ward was the dead.

The dead was Ward.

Ward was the living.

The living was Ward.

Ward was the past.

The past was Ward.

Ward was the future.

The future was Ward.

Ward was the present.

The present was Ward.

Ward was the now.

The now was Ward.

Ward was the then.

The then was Ward.

Ward was the never.

The never was Ward.

Ward was the always.

The always was Ward.

Ward was the here.

The here was Ward.

Ward was the there.

The there was Ward.

Ward was the one.

The one was Ward.

Ward was the many.

The many was Ward.

Ward was the whole.

The whole was Ward.

Ward was the part.

The part was Ward.

Ward was the fragment.

The fragment was Ward.

Ward was the unity.

The unity was Ward.

Ward was the division.

The division was Ward.

Ward was the connection.

The connection was Ward.

Ward was the separation.

The separation was Ward.

Ward was the reunion.

The reunion was Ward.

Ward was the parting.

The parting was Ward.

Ward was the coming.

The coming was Ward.

Ward was the going.

The going was Ward.

Ward was the staying.

The staying was Ward.

Ward was the leaving.

The leaving was Ward.

Ward was the arriving.

The arriving was Ward.

Ward was the departing.

The departing was Ward.

Ward was the beginning.

The beginning was Ward.

Ward was the end.

The end was Ward.

The golden song.

The song of Ward.

Ward was the song.

The song was Ward.