[ɪŋk]

A coloured fluid or paint used for writing, drawing, painting, or duplicating

It is ground by the stone, wet with water, applied on hair and marked against paper. The diversity of its affiliates make its purpose all the more guilty.

How many more will die to feed the humans' minds?

It was a strange feeling. It seemed to curl up and nestle within him; wings tucked nearly yet still brushing the cavernous depths of his heart with the lightest fluttering touch. It filled the empty hollow ringing with each strike of the mallet against the twist of veins and blood pumping membrane. The faintest memory. It faded to oblivion until Donghae could not reach it even as he leaned over the lip of the well; one hand stabilising himself upon its slippery opening and the other losing itself with outstretched fingers into the depths.

It was fading.

Fading until he could see it no more.

Memories of a time before his own existence. It rang true within him and he could feel its touch burning frost across his skin; raising the thin hairs on his arms. He couldn't see it. It was too far within the acrid smoky depths of his own being. He felt like throwing it all up. To rid his system of the darkness and the uncertainty of what lay within, yet he could only heave and retch and feel nothing come out.

It had lodged itself so deeply into him. Into the very cells of his soul.

Brother…

He had come face to face with a monster. The flames and fiery touch of its existence curling his skin to ashes and dust. He had never met anyone so alive with the passion of his soul flaring into the very heart of his being. They smoldered and glowed like the dimming sun. A simmering aura waiting… For what?

He continued to stare at the water's surface and his fingers itched to disturb its stagnant state. To slap against the glass-like expanse and to distort the figure's damned smiling face. His cheeks hurt too much to keep it up anyhow.

There was a glow across the lake. It flared a piercing green and floated closer in a misty haze. Swirls of mist surrounding him; tendrils curling into stray locks of his hair and winding around and around his limbs. Donghae wanted to scream but had not the breath to do so. It choked him to painful silence with the shriek lost halfway between his lungs and his lips.

A face shifted against the blur, eyes glowing and cutting into Donghae's mind like a twisting blade. The mouth curled up; too wide for its ephemeral face and dripped bloody grey meat. It took him several seconds to realise what they were and the realisation came with an impulse to hurl out everything within him. To leave him bare.

Rotting gums and the mashed porridge-like remains of what must have been teeth.

They gushed out from between his lips like syrup; its viscosity thick. The rank sweep of air brought with it the smell of putrid flesh and wafts of the sludge coming from out of the face. It disgusted Donghae to no end and he wished to run away, yet his feet were rooted to the banks of the lake and the slime began to drip onto his bare feet. He could feel the grit of it between his toes.

"You see?" The voice was thin and feeble, having been mumbled out between the mouthful of filth. A bubble formed on its lip and burst into a grey trickle. Its thin spray cut across Donghae's face like a whip from his right temple down to the left corner of his lip and he held back the urge to cower and sob before this beast. "You see what I have become? You see what I am now?"

The eyes grew wide with either seeming terror or rage, Donghae had no idea which. He could see the opposite bank through the blank holes; appearing in green tints and shades as though he were peering through a coloured looking glass. It was a homely sight, though it gave him little comfort, for he had oftentimes used it to colour the eyes of his toys. At least it distracted him from the wetness sliding down his knees and the faint rasp and sandy feel as he wriggled his toes. The face snickered and drew closer with its rank breath. It was the air of the dead.

"I may have been a spectacular creature when you last saw me, but here is what lies within. My rotting carcass; having died many times over." The face hacked and gurgled lowly, the vile substance bursting forth in a new vivid red that burned Donghae's eyes, "You knew me. From the very beginning, you knew me. You woke your own slumbering form from your chamber and rose upon my bidding. I need you. I need you as your own pure self."

"I don't- I don't know you." Donghae found his voice within his frozen state and shuddered at how dead it sounded. It was a rasp which mirrored that of the being before him. The dribble was cold against his skin and its smell was imprinted into the very lines and crevices of his brain. He would never be able to wipe the stink from his mind. It was a scent he would never forget. The air of the dead.

"You know me. I am the reason for your very existence. I am your predecessor and I have chosen you to be my legacy. You will find me because I need you. Even if you tear your own legs off and scream and cry, you will still drag yourself to me on your elbows because I am the reason you exist." The face faded with a final bloody chuckle and there was a faint ringing in the eddies of mist around Donghae.

You will find me…

"I had the strangest dream last night." Donghae remarked casually whilst tearing the bread in his hands to pieces, scattering crumbs across the willow tabletop. His legs skirted a little from numbness as they dangled from the bench and he leaned his small elbows on the table; rubbing his thumbs and forefingers together to rid them of the dusting of flour.

"Oh?" Eunhyuk did not lift his eyes from the paper spread from one hand to the other; the newsprint dipping down to barely touch the tabletop upon its crease. His bread, too, lay abandoned beside the jam jars and the small tub of cream. It seemed that the blonde was not hungry. "And what did you dream of?"

"A face." Donghae sniffed, "A face with red and white hair like the banners in front of the Mastarierd building in the city. He was ever so mysterious."

"Did he give you his name?"

"No, though I feel as though he must have in some past dream. He called me brother."

Eunhyuk paused in his reading and glanced at the blonde in disbelief; the silence punctuated by the scattering of ticks from the clock face to their left. The latter simply sitting there cupping his chin in his hands with his hair falling messily over his face. The very image of innocence. "Brother?"

"Yes." The brunette sighed, wrinkling his nose to ease the itch. He seemed to have caught a cold from sleeping in the meadow the previous day. That, and his immune system seemed to have temporarily weakened upon using his powers to such an extent so suddenly. He needed to break it in, Eunhyuk had told him. He needed to slowly use the magic so as not to shock his body and cause it to fail as it had yesterday. "He called me brother, yet I don't think I know him. It was in a field of flowers just like yours'. We sat together and talked about things. It was rather pleasant overall."

"What kind of things?"

"I'm not too sure, to be honest. He wants me to stay there; in that universe with him, but I couldn't unless I rid myself of something." He glanced up plaintively and pouted a little, unsure of himself and what it was exactly that lived within him. The blonde stared at him with a rather odd expression; brow furrowed in a slight frown and the corners of his lips downturned as though deep in thought. "But it was just a dream, wasn't it, Eunhyuk? It's not real, is it?"

Eunhyuk stayed silent for a moment, index finger lightly tapping against his lip, before giving the younger a vague smile. There was a sense of melancholy in his eyes and he murmured under his breath; so lightly that Donghae hardly caught the words. "When you've lived your whole life in a dream, how do you know when you've returned to reality?"

When you've lived your whole life in a dream…

"I don't know." Donghae answered honestly, bewildered by the question. "I've lived my whole life in reality. I guess it's a given that I return to it when I wake up."

The blonde sighed and bowed his head over the newspaper, "Then you're lucky."

"The universe you spend the most time in. The universe you wake to every morning. Is that universe not the real one to you?"

"Don't we all live in different universes at some point or rather?" Eunhyuk pointed out, "For those with magic, dreaming is not a state of the mind but a path for our spirits to wander. There are many levels of reality and the depths of insanity we sink to is bottomless. We can dream within dreams until our minds are so shrouded in denial that we simply cease to exist."

"But how would you know which one is the real one? How can you tell if you can still wake from a universe or not?"

He smiled genially; eyes flashing crimson against the distorted stripe of sunlight across his face, "You don't."

What surprised Donghae the most upon the slow grasp of his powers was how much magic was hidden in his own abode. He had never noticed