Bitter Bee

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Sky got off of his horse, walking slowly to the tree that he had decided to stop at to rest. His mind was getting too fogged to continue traveling. With the way he was going, if he didn't get a hold of himself, he wouldn't be able to find his way to the city. Even if he had a map, he wouldn't be able to follow it at all. He turned and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he pushed his hands into his pockets. His horse watched him for a few moments, before they trotted off to the nearest pasture to eat the grass.

Sky opened his eyes, staring up at the sun that was mostly blocked by the large, thick branches above him that the tree was giving off. He stared for a few moments, before he realized that it had to be raining, because there was water on his cheeks.

Then he realized his eyesight was blurred, and that the water was coming from his eyes.

He slid down the tree, bringing his knees to his chest as he buried his head into his knees, beginning to sob quietly as everything crashed down around him. He accepted the fact that he was no longer in the 1700s, that nothing was ever going to be the same, that he did not have his Dead beside him but he was constantly around someone who looked just like him. He accepted the fact that his best friend was still dead, and it made him feel sick to his stomach whenever he looked at the ring on his finger. He accepted the fact that he was out there somewhere, since the tattoo was on his shoulder, but there was little to no way that he would be able to find him. This world was so much bigger than it had been before, and there were new species, too many new species.

His thought process blurred as he cried, and he could no longer think. All he could do was hold onto the misery he carried inside of him, let the depression that had developed inside of him wrap around him, in a tight cocoon that wouldn't allow him to breathe. But he didn't fight against it, because it was familiar. It wasn't new, it wasn't strange and foreign. No, this was something that he had carried his entire life, something he knew how to handle. It didn't laugh in his face or call him a fake, or try to tell him he was insane and get him admitted into a mental hospital. It didn't kick him out to the street, humiliated and angry and even more discouraged. It didn't make him feel like perhaps this whole war was in his head, and that the memories he faced in the 1700s was just some spell placed on him by the cruel person who placed him in that tomb.

But he knew that was not true. He had asked to be placed in that spell, in that coffin, in that tomb, and the person who had done it was anything but cruel. He knew that those memories were real, the people there real, the pain, suffering, and death were all real. He knew that because this depression was still there, because it was the only thing he still had. Because pain like this couldn't be made up from fake memories. He sat there, clinging to the only thing that reminded him that what he had gone through before Deadlox had woken him up was real.

Suddenly, he heard a soft voice.

"Sir...?"

He jumped, looking up, tears all over his cheeks. A girl, a teenager, perhaps fourteen or thirteen, stood a few feet away from him, staring at him with wide eyes filled with concern. She had coal black hair that was long, down to her waist, and she was of Asian descendant. She wore what looked like a school uniform, with a white shirt and a plaid skirt. Sky stared at her, before he cleared his throat, standing. "W-What are you doing out here?" He asked evenly, though his voice shook from his lingering tears. "It's d-dangerous out here for someone as y-young as you."

She ignored his question, stepping towards him. "Are you okay, sir...?"

He sighed, and he almost wanted to tell her that no, he wasn't okay. He wanted to tell her everything, and see if she thought he was insane. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't tell her that, not when she was so young. She would either think he was insane, or actually believe him and fear for him and for her world. He didn't want to give her nightmares, either. He didn't want to taint her childhood, like his was too.

He let out a bitter laugh. "J-Just... Just some things dying, kiddo..." He walked past her, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just some things dying..."

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