The mirror was broken. Not cracked, it just wasn't working properly.
You always remember the day when you watch a man die.
The world isn't perfect. Not even close. Everyone knows, but not everyone knows. There's a difference between knowing and knowing after all.
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"Can you close the window? They're shooting people down at the church again."
"Of course there's an explanation for why I shot all those people. Haven't you ever heard of target practice?"
"When is a door not a door?"
"The doors are down by Fifth and Eighth - catch a train, catch a tram, catch a cab...cabbie can."
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Close the window.
The window shut.
"Thank you, Dasti. Come...sit down now, won't you?"
Across the room, Eloro sat in a leather armchair. She watched Dasti. Dasti turned and bowed.
"Sit?" he questioned.
Eloro smiled. "Sit," she agreed and motioned at the floor.
Dasti sat. His legs folded under him, and he rested his palms flat on the ground. His eyes locked with his kneecaps. Dasti waited.
Eloro watched him.
Through the closed window they heard gunshots.
Down at the church.
Then silence.
Again.
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Shot them.
"All gone?"
"All gone."
"Not even one -"
Nirax laughed. "Only corpses."
Airthe sighed. All gone. Only corpses. "Even -"
"Only corpses." Nirax was firm.
Church lights flickered. The chandelier hung broken. The altar bore a flood of bodies. The chalice overflowed with blood. Some few drops stained the white cloth.
"Are we staying?"
Nirax turned the gun. The muzzle felt warm. Airthe did not shiver. Nirax laughed.
"You are."
Target practice.
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When a door.
"Sax?"
"Yeah?"
"What's the meaning of life?"
Silence stretched.
"Where do you come up with these questions?"
"I don't know. Whats the meaning of life? What's the point of death? Why -"
"Are you ever quiet?"
"Sax!"
"What?"
"Sax, tell me?"
"I don't know, Taz. I just don't know."
The car on the corner drove away.
"Sax?"
"Hmn?"
"Carry me?"
Saxiel bent to gather Totaz in his arms.
"Like that?"
Totaz twisted his fingers in Saxiel's hair. "Yeah," he said. "Like that."
When ajar.
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Looking for?
The dice rolled seven. The dice rolled twelve. The dice rolled four. The dice rolled nine. The dice never rolled one... He needed a one so she could live.
"As long as you keep rolling, she stays alive. As many rolls as it takes to get a one."
Sweat rimmed Ascaeliat's palms. He rolled the dice again. The dice rolled three.
Tsisas snickered.
Ascaeliat snatched the dice off the table and rolled again. Seven.
Tsisas' cackling grew. The hand holding the knife trembled against Bruesia's throat.
"Keep rolling!"
Ascaeliat's hands snatched up the dice. The blade at Bruesia's throat steading. Ascaeliat cast the dice. Four. Tsisas shook with laughter.
Can...can...can...
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