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How they hated one another up there where the sun shone! How much more they hate one another now that they are forever conjoined but not reconciled. - Screwtape Proposes a Toast, C.S. Lewis
Once, Owen had locked him in the crypt beneath the church and let him starve to death; despite the poetic justice of that one, it had been excruciatingly boring for Owen and was unlikely ever to be repeated. There was a river running a few minutes’ walk from the church, and he had dragged Legundo there a few times to drown him in the shallows. Legundo felt he could better empathize with Pyro now, but it was too far into the dark for them to make the venture particularly often.
But with a lumberjack in a leafless winter forest, there was never a shortage of firewood, and the ritual of building the pyre gave Owen something to do. The burnings seemed almost a compulsion for Owen, a wretched perpetual striving for some kind of closure that he was never going to get.
Legundo tried not to think about it too much.Title is from Revelation 21: 8