I think I need a new name, he thought to himself as he sat down on the overlook he had just found.  He let his legs hang off the side and swung his bare feet back and forth like a child on a porch swing. A passerby might have mistaken him for some carefree spirit pondering the small nothings of a simple life, but, alas, there were no more passersby.  And carefree, he was not, for he was nothing.  He had nothing.  He felt nothing.  He felt nothing unless the fire was upon him, and he had no desire to call it forth.  He loathed it.  If ever he was capable of feeling anything at all, he was certain that he would hate the fire.

Maybe I should just let them have me.

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Alice Thorn

Even after a year, the castle still felt like home.  Having just stepped in the forward break in the wall, she took a moment to absorb the nostalgic emanations of her old home. An overabundance of kudzu and moss still covered the majority of the stonework and the same familiar crumbling walls and breaks in the ceiling greeted her eyes.  She smiled.  She didn’t even mind the mustiness or the heavy dew permeating the air.  On the contrary, she welcomed the old smells and smiled even brighter.

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