Sunday Snippet

Post on Dixing timekeeping soon, and also ficinabox, but now:

An indeterminate time later, he woke up with a blaring headache and a mouth that felt like something had died in it. Water fixed both of his problems, and he felt humanity return to him as he cleaned up.

*Humanity*. How odd that he'd call sanity and sentience *humanity*. They called him a traitor to his race, back home – had called him that in his prior home in years gone by, albeit with more open vitriol and in fewer numbers – and here he was, proving them right.

Fate afforded no country for him. Whenever he felt safe, he would be ripped from his home into the mists of time.

He clenched his hand, recalling the Sundial's burn. Was that why he was here? The Hallows could induce temporal dislocation – but only in humans. Not Dixingians.

He'd spent his entire life on the surface. Perhaps he counted as one.

The bargain he'd struck with the Sundial had been to take the dark energy that had struck Zhao Yunlan blind into his own body. But he was a fool, and had not realized the dark energy of the Hallows was slightly different to his own, and mingled with the light energy of Zhao Yunlan besides.

The Force was a mixed blessing. It drowned out his dark energy – but also the light energy that tainted it.

With conflicted thoughts, he sought out Kreia. She would if nothing else prove a distraction.