Ruby irises hovered before his face. They glinted, blinked, and overflowed with melancholy. He was transfixed, drowning in the depths of the upturned set of eyes. Tender hands cupped his face and soft lips brushed his ear. 'Wake up, Emrys.'

A heartbeat echoed, disrupting the quietude blanketing the place.

A lub. A dub.

Thump, thump, thump.

Then, a terse inhale cut through the static silence. His eyes flew open, two bottomless pits of nothingness.

Was it simply dark or did he, perhaps, lose his eyesight?

Another inhale. Dirt entered his airways and he choked. The action caused his body to convulse as coughs shook his limbs.

It was cold. He didn't feel cold. In fact, he didn't feel anything.

When the coughing fit finally subsided, he decided to hold his breath and feel his way around. It felt tight, snug around his body. Was he buried? Why was he alive then? Why did the dirt surrounding him feel...why couldn't he feel its texture?!

He exhaled, involuntarily, and shook his head.

Was he dreaming? No. Recollections of labored breaths and the harsh sounds of his feet slapping hard against the jagged grounds as he ran rushed through his mind. Why was he running? What happened next?

When his fingers brushed against his legs, he flinched. Bones. What was going on?

Why was he still...alive?

A skeleton buried below heaps of dirt. Yet, he was breathing. He wasn't dead. But, he died. He was sure of it!

He started digging his way out, with clumsy hands and a wildly drumming heart. He dug, dug, dug until a soft breeze brushed a small patch of skin on his face. He breathed in loudly, the sound alarming an owl nestling nearby. Its feathers were pulled in tightly in defense as it watched a skeleton emerge from the ground.

Emrys blinked fast. He was out. So, why couldn't he see anything? Had he injured his eyes? Or gone blind? Was it night? If yes, where was the moon?

He sat huddled by the hole he'd just abandoned.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. 

Deeply, slowly, abundantly.

His plan to rest for a bit and allow his head some time to grasp whatever situation he was in evaporated as a searing pain shot through his entirety.

A thud resonated as he crumpled down. His bones knocked against each other and he clawed at his throat. Yet, no sound came out.

The flame raging within rose, flickered, burned, then exploded and a hollow scream burst. It shook his surroundings, awakening the swarm of bats residing inside the cave he had just woken up in. Squeaks and scratching filled the air as they flapped their wings and raced each other in a frenzy to flee. The owl let out a screech before its four wings stretched out in an attempt to appear threatening.

When Emrys continued writhing on the damp soil with his wails of agony increasing in volume, all animals just decided to scram.

It was as if his whole body was set on fire.

His muscles wept scarlet; they trembled, grew, and shielded his quivering bones. Skin appeared; it stretched, prickled, and engulfed his form. It felt like it was getting torn and sewn at the same time. Blood oozed – trickle, drip, drop – and drenched him whole.

He cussed and convulsed. His body contorted as another bout of pain twisted his insides. It was as if someone was ripping through his intestines.

His back arched then curved forward. Labored breaths filled his ringing ears. He spluttered in between whimpers before an abrupt yowl jarred him whole.

Emrys shot to his feet and raced around – a wounded animal struggling in vain to ease the pain. He heaved, dropping to his knees. Red leaked from his sockets before a sudden brightness nearly blinded him.

He'd regained his eyesight.

Without thinking, he stumbled out, running toward the source of light.

It was red.

It was dark.

It was blood and death and fucking beautiful.

His arms opened and stretched as he welcomed the warmth that filled his heart. The sky was bedabbled with crimson, hesitant clouds shying away from the magnificence of the moon as it spilled and soaked everything beneath with its blood.

He basked under its rays, the blessing of ichor easing his misery.

A woman stood with her back to him, swathed in scarlet – the fabric clinging to her skin like blood besmearing a corpse. Her black hair rippled and her dress danced to the breeze. A thousand thorns wrapped around the woman, vines circling, trapping, and adorning her glowing skin.

Transfixed by the view, he reached out to touch the goddess before him. His fingers twitched, dying to brush her softness. His mouth parted; his jaws spasmed. His tongue felt heavy, struggling to call for the stranger, to utter a name he didn't know.

His body burned with a rapidly-rising fever, before he, in his delirium, felt a gentle touch as arms wrapped around him.

Startled shouts from somewhere nearby barely registered in his mind as the vision of red eyes and raven strands vanished, like specks of dust scattered with the wind, and he succumbed to the darkness that devoured him.

'It must have hurt a lot.'

Emrys jolted up. He winced, his body sore and tender. His gaze scrutinized every part it could reach. His fingers flexed. His toes wiggled. His eyelids fluttered. He'd regained his body. 

How did he lose it in the first place?

He was running then he woke up all bones, buried, and forgotten.

He shifted, his new skin taut and muscles weak. His state resembled a newborn as he struggled to stand up and wobbled on his way back into the cave.

Chirps and rustles filled the darkness as the bats crawled around.

Ignoring them, Emrys looked around the place that had been his grave for a duration of time that he was yet to pinpoint. A faint sound of drip, drip, drip, entered his ears and he lurched forward.

A small spring greeted his hungry eyes.

He dashed its way, scraping his knees in his clumsiness before gulping down as much as his hands could carry. It didn't taste as good as he expected it to. In fact, he wasn't even thirsty. But, it felt good. Damn it, it felt so good and refreshing.

He quickly submerged his body. All that blood had to go away at some point if he needed to leave the cave and go search for his family. He hoped they were alright.

Scrubbing every spot he could reach, Emrys groaned loudly at the rejuvenating feeling coursing through him. As he emerged, though, a sudden realization dawned on him.

"Crap," he hissed. He didn't have anything to cover his indecency.

However, his dilemma didn't last long for when he peeked outside, a horse was idling by with a bag strapped to its side. Emrys frowned, inspecting it. There was nothing of value except a brown cloak, a couple of knives, some herbs, and a rope. 

Satisfied for now, he cut two holes for his arms to go through, put on the garment, and then secured it around his body with the rope before mounting the horse – it took three attempts but he decided to blame it on his weak state and shook his head to rid it of any embarrassment that dared tint his cheeks, relieved no one was watching him make a fool of himself.

His eyes darted to the sky; it was dawn and the moon had lost all its grand redness. Somehow, his body yearned for the feeling of basking under its rays.

With newfound enthusiasm, Emrys nudged the animal forward and headed back to his village. It hadn't been long but he'd missed his family already. A heavy feeling pressed at his heart, one he chose to ignore until he arrived home. 

A deep exhale tumbled out. His grip tightened.

First, he would find them. Then, he'd try to retrace his moves since he last saw them before he'd try to make sense of what had occurred in this secluded cave.

Word count: 1351.

Total word count: 2006.

MEANING OF THE WORDS USED:

ikhōr/ichor, in greek mythology, is the fluid that flows like blood in the veins of the gods.

Emrys, pronounced em-riss, is a boy's name of Welsh origin, meaning "immortal."