FINN
the spyglass
it is only through mystery and madness
The music is beautiful. It tugs at his heartstrings, plays them better than any guitar, and Finn feels a smile tug at his lips. But it fades, abruptly and painfully, at the sound of a voice that might be his own, only with a different accent wrapping around the words. Peeling his eyes open, they watch the world as an upside down haze of nothing.
”Go away,” he says, his voice more blunt than it ever could be in the waking world. ”I don’t want you here. You don’t belong here. Go away, now.” On the discordant music of the wind, he is tossed again into the cliffside. More flesh sloughs from his ankle - his head cracks against the rock, and through blood and and saltwater, he watches the sea churn.
”Go away,” he says, his voice more blunt than it ever could be in the waking world. ”I don’t want you here. You don’t belong here. Go away, now.” On the discordant music of the wind, he is tossed again into the cliffside. More flesh sloughs from his ankle - his head cracks against the rock, and through blood and and saltwater, he watches the sea churn.
that the soul is revealed
