The Fading Sky Above
rating: +6+x

The sky faded to black. No stars. No moon. He couldn’t tell if it was even the sky anymore. The water was taking him away from a place that didn’t exist anymore. The gash in his body disappeared. He propped himself up in the water. Black stretched eternally below him, and around him.

He had been murdered out of greed. He wasn’t angry. I should be… heh… He spun in the water. This isn’t the afterlife, why is this not the afterlife? He thought no more of the question. What happened again? Oh yeah I was killed… before that though… something about singing? Nobody was around, he wouldn’t care if they were.

The sun shined bright.
Above the blue sea.
The sun shined bright.
And the blue sea split…

The water made no sound as it flowed, even his splashes silent except for the words leaving him.

The water was lonely…

And so the island split…

He giggled and he laughed, and he didn’t stop laughing.




There was no reason to it. This place was beyond reason, just a river of euphoria stretching into darkness. Then he saw it before him. The golden light of the sun before him. Shining down to the biggest tree he had ever seen. The sky became a lighter shade of blue as he was pulled closer.

Its beautiful.

The river shifted, taking him in another direction. The euphoria faded, anger returned. What? Nonononono! As hard as he tried to paddle, it did no use. Why? Why take me back?

Rocks came into view as he looked behind himself. Something made him stop the struggle. Someone was peering back at him. Like Treetop himself he had the look of one from the Sun Province. He held out a stick.

Treetop felt sand under his stem, the movement of the water stopped. He hopped forward, touching the stick. All at once a hundred shadows appeared behind the figure, these were different. The first.

Far away…

His own path…

Under ancient banners


The stick yanked hard. The figure and the shadows disappeared. The stick crumbled to dust as Treetop fell on the rocks. Getting up, he looked back to the river. Something was floating in it. Dust. He saw his old colleague using his arms to paddle towards the tree in the distance. The river faded and so did the afterlife. All that remained was a glowing light in the opposite direction.

He hopped towards it.

The river was long behind him, if it even existed anymore. In front of him was a coffin, like the ones they buried Kings in. But this was different, larger, older. White and glowing.

He hopped inside and laid down.

Treetop jolted upwards to the crumbling ceiling above him. Squirming around, he felt pain where Sprout had stabbed him, but he knew it was healed. He raised his body up. In front of him the figure from the shore. Covered in scars and strapped to him multiple odd tools and bits of equipment.

“Do not fear. My name is Scout.”

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