Elián;
They don't stop talking.
There's no body left to grow tired, no throat to go hoarse, no eyes I can close against the dark pressing in from every direction, and I think that's the point. They know exactly how long they can keep this up, because there's nothing left in me that can force a pause.
"You understand, don't you?" The voices say, layered, endless, "That none of this was ever supposed to happen."
"Stop." I plead, but they ignore me.
"Elien was never meant to survive Elkhorn. You know this. You've seen the memories. Balinar broke stronger souls than his before and after him. That he lived at all was an aberration."
"I said stop—" I try to scream, but they cut me off like they've been doing since this all began.
"And you." The voices shift, softer somehow, more intimate…which is worse.
