The cave reeked of mold and dampness.
The corpse of a creature that was once a stone tiger lay at his feet, its belly split open to its neck. Its tongue dangled and its pale eyes carried a shock that still echoed in the air.
Diros laughed.
The right face laughed, while the left face, the one that moaned
"Tasted good, didn't it?"
asked the smiling face, its tongue tracing the upper lip, following the last drop of blood.
"He didn't want to die…"
answered the crying face, in a hoarse, broken voice, as if each word shattered upon leaving.
"But he didn't deserve to live!"
"And who are we to decide?"
The smiling one laughed, and the crying one wept.
Diros sat on a moss-covered rock, his body stained with blood. And his body despite its strangeness seemed to breathe sorrow and joy. Then came the sting. Gentle at first, then like a thorn in his spine.
"I feel… something…"
whispered the crying one.
"Yes. The flame is fading, you can't stay here any longer."
