Ouroboros Spine Allagí

Gods, the rage he felt was great. It had filled every inch of his body in white hot fire. The memories of Epoch that still lived in his mind, tormenting him. Wishing that he could forget and knowing that he wouldn’t. Not what happened in the vale and not what happened on the spine with Sorcha. 

What is your deal, Antigone? 

The boy’s lips peeled into a snarl. 

The emotions that played on her face were met with dark eyes that held nothing behind them. 

Antigone turned from her. He looked to the western terrain while a plan formed in his mind. The hairs along his spine flattened. His expression shifted from sun-licked rage to something void of any feeling, any sense of care. 

Goodbye, Sorcha. Best wishes to your future husband. Ice cut sharp on his tone. 

Antigone did not look back to her. He cut a course to the west, to land that had no memories. As his legs carried him, he could not help the images of fire that roared in his mind, consuming Moonglow and Epoch in its wake.