I had imagined my last breath would actually be my end. But when did anything ever go as planned? I had never planned to lose the love of my life, or my best friend, least of all my son. I had tried my hardest to keep him. I was patient with Spike for so long, with all of them. I even told my son what to do to fix everything on his own as a last resort if I was gone. But little by little, impulse by impulse I ruined it all. I attacked the palace to get Spike’s attention, I drove away and eventually killed my wife. And then worst of all, I left my son. I might’ve been driven mad at some point along the way. I did remember a time when doing such things sounded like something I would never consider. I wish I could blame that voice in my mind, or that foreign drive to hurt people to keep them close, but it’s not so easy. I thought dying would be easy, at least. Turns out it wasn’t. The first thing I remember after dying is an empty feeling, like I wasn’t really there, but yet my consciousness was. I remember finding myself following my son down the volcano, and without my talons touching the ground. I only became conscious of the movement once I remembered I should be dead. I watched from a slight distance as he stumbled into his best friend’s wings. The daughter of my former best friend. Fitting. He was exhausted and could barely stand, and he seemed to almost see me for a moment before shuddering and looking past me to the Stonewing Queen, Etch. It was at this moment she ran right through me, and I realized I was definitely far from alive. I felt a horribly alien sensation as she passed through me and rushed toward my son. If I wasn’t quite alive, and I wasn’t dead, I must have been somewhere in between. A small wave of frustration flew through me. The idea of spectating others was far from enjoyable, more so considering I would be a conversation topic—and not a good one. But above all, I would be just within reach of my son and not be able to speak to him. Some may have tried to yell, or shout, but I was silent. I had caused enough damage to everyone around me, when could I just be dead? The anger cooled as swiftly as it had arrived as I watched Depths embrace Etch. A snake of envy slithered down my spine instead. Part of me used to say emotional attachments were a weakness, but that part had actually died. In this manner I continued to watch as Depths cracked a joke about his exhaustion and gradually calmed down as he realized everyone he cared about was okay. The guilt over that was welcome by the point it arrived. “At least he’s okay.” I said that to myself a few times, to calm down as they began to walk away. I could be fine alone. I always had been. That was, until an invisible yet electric cord seemed to yank me away from where I stood and back toward the group. I felt a growl escape my mouth as I landed on the ground. So I couldn’t walk on it, but if I was thrown I could still get hit. Now everything had been clarified. I glanced back at where I had been to see if something was there, but no. I folded my wings back and got up, begrudgingly following the group, as it seemed I may have no other choice.

At some point as they got ready to sleep before the journey home, I noticed Depths’ eyes seemed to register something when he looked at me, but he quickly looked away. Could he tell I was here? I walked across their campsite, around Ripple—more guilt entered without knocking—, who had already curled up on the ground, and to my son, standing in front of him. “…” I could have sworn we made eye contact, but then he turned away and laid on the ground too. I snorted and lay beside him, putting a wing around my son and closing my eyes. Sleep wasn’t easy either.

If you’ve ever wondered what it was like to haunt someone’s dreams, I could tell you. It was like watching a play, or a production on a stage. I watched horrible memory after horrible memory be replayed in my son’s mind—or maybe mine—and I had a place in almost every one. My mood improved little when we awoke, and I watched their group prepare to leave. I found myself observing my nephew, Ripple, a lot more than I had initially expected. He would have done something when Spike didn’t if he were in power. My own voice was unwelcome at this point, though I couldn’t help but agree. One who grew up in poverty would be more likely to do something about it when given the chance, wouldn’t they? Anyone who cared about anyone, at least. My thoughts about what could or should have been were soon replaced with annoyance, pure and simple. As the group left and I had no choice but to follow. My temper tapered a bit when Depths started to seem broken up over my death—maybe he should pay more attention to what’s going on around him like I taught him to—, but not for too long before I started feeling irritable again. I regret to inform you there was about five minutes of me just shouting “Hello!” at the top of my lungs. At one point I thought my son might’ve seen me, but he quickly blinked a few times and looked away, a bit puzzled. What was the point of this? Some would say I deserved to die—me included—but apparently something decided I deserved whatever this was instead. I hate it when somethings do that. After a long flight and a terribly awkward conversation about wedding planning—at least I didn’t need an invitation—we arrived at the riverwing palace. I briefly considered trying to leave—to do anything to avoid walking through those halls again, but I knew it would be futile. What a day.