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Once upon a time, things were far simpler.
Once upon a time, things had been as simple as dozing in the soft grass, swaying green leaves and patches of blue sky above them, summer light landing on their faces, gentle as a bird. Wifies by his side; eyes slitted, purple glowing in the light. Complete and utter safety.
Once upon a time, things had been as simple as golden lanterns drifting towards a star-speckled sky like marigold petals blown by the wind. Inky smudges of buildings and trees behind them fading into nothingness. Just Wifies’ arm over his shoulder and golden light, blurring as his eyes close until the world turns the color of a hopeful dawn.
And then his eyes fly open. He shuts his eyes, willing himself back into a place where stars and lanterns mix. For a moment, blissful coolness lingers in his half-clenched fists, pooling around his arms. He snatches at the dream, the afterimage of golden light still imprinted on his eyelids, but it turns into smoke and flows through his hands.
And then he has no choice but to face the heat baking him alive, working its way through him like poison. He opens his eyes. Lava paints the obsidian walls in a golden sheen of sweat, a macabre parody of lanterns against a midnight sky. Sparks rise and fall and rise again like dying stars.
He longs for simpler times, for easier times, when being chased was the worst thing he’d ever known. What he would do to get those times back; oh, he’d do anything, everything. He’d give himself up and throw himself into the molten rock surrounding him if it would just mean he’d get a chance to fix everything. He wants to live in those peaceful, idyllic dreams.
Sooner or later, though, you always have to wake up.