[Cost must be paid.]
It sat emboldened in the centre of his vision, taking his whole attention away as he trailed Paleck's wandering spine.
He could still taste it -- the aftertaste of stale grain that had left his mouth dry, whilst the reveal of a cost had in turn, left his mind blank.
Flat-footed. Mouth slightly ajar. He simply stood with sand creeping through the seams of his shoes.
'I--'
His own thoughts had stuttered.
He didn't know how to feel.
Strange isn't it?
It may have seemed simple right?
He was hungry and restless, so he flipped.
A meal... a snack... anything.
Whatever could fill him and rid that twisting pain.
Whatever could quiet his senses.
Did he forget there were costs for everything?
Did the past feeling of complete lightness in his escape twist his mind?
Did he forget a memory was taken from him? One that he may never know?
Or maybe he hadn't forgotten, and he'd just decided somewhere between hunger and heat, a cost could wait.
Was that the case?
A hunger so loud.
A hunger so great... that after waking up, he wasn't focused on any cost?
His mouth parted, as he drew a long sigh. Maybe... just maybe... that nightmare he groggily woke up from was the cause of all of this.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath.
He looked back up, staring through the dust.
Crunch...
Paleck was still walking, none the wiser of whatever dilemma the boy behind him was dealing with.
[Cost must be registered within 24 hour limit]
[Do you accept cost now?]
The sun beamed down, through the gaps of bone that had stretched above Bast -- the White Mile in all of its entirety.
"It better not be another memory..." he mumbled, that amber gaze narrowing at the message.
[Yes or no?]
An ultimatum.
Bast swallowed. That same aftertaste of stale grain came back up like a reminder. A slight extinguish of breath ran in that moment, one that could only be taken for as a chuckle.
"A bite of bread, but a price tag that's full?" a strain crept on his chalked lips, as he took a step forward.
Crunch.
His foot dug into the soil, before he kicked out, spreading the sand thick through the air. "Damn it," he mumbled. The coin--now sitting in his pocket--seemed to warm its surface at his frustration.
But was it really just frustration, or was it fear too?
The bread hadn't bothered him. He had lived off of smaller portions, and taken smaller bites. It was the idea that this was enough to trigger a debt.
"Do I have to flip for a breath now too?" his features grimaced.
It was a genuine question. But what did he expect?
He now had a relic. Something sought over. Something bought by the highest bidders, and killed for by lawless folk. Something that--
'Whatever.'
His eyes dimmed.
He took a glance at the word to his left.
[Yes]
Clear. Certain. Emboldened.
He exhaled, long and shaky. "Fine..." he muttered.
Whatever the price was, it'd come anyway.
'Yes.'
The word flashed once more, before it dimmed as he made his decision. It didn't take long for two new displays to shine above his head, large and bold in text.
[Confirmation accepted...]
[Cost pending...]
The sand felt heavier beneath his feet now as he waited. This was it. Somewhere behind that weight, beneath the warmth of the sky above -- a slow prick began to crawl up his right arm.
"The fuck..." he mumbled out loud, as some dust scattered across his vision. What was going on you ask?
The message that came next told him exactly what he wanted to know.
[Cost registered.]
A second passed.
Then--
[Temporary neural suppression: Right upper limb.]
[Duration: 6 hours.]
[Severity: Partial sensory. Motor loss.]
Bast blinked.
"...That's it?" he muttered. The screen didn't respond.
'It's not a memory...'
The first thing that hit his face was the slight release of tension. Relief. The relief that nothing he cared for had been taken. 'Tov...'
His foot buried deeper into the sand, before blinking out of a state of remembrance. The relief he had been feeling had no way of lasting. He could feel it.
Absence.
The very lack of feeling.
His right side felt... lighter. Not weak--vacant. The wrongness of it all was clear. Not numb yet. Not dead. Unaccounted for.
Like a space that should've been filled but wasn't.
Bast paused.
His gaze flicked down on instinct -- not urgent, not panic -- as the quiet need to check something, that shouldn't have needed checking filled his thoughts.
He brought his left hand across and pressed two fingers into his right forearm -- the tight wrappings across his arm seemingly loosening.
"Nothing."
He pressed harder.
Still...
His fingers lingered there longer than they had ever done before. It was numb. Not in the way sleep made a limb useless.
It wasn't pins and needles. It was just--
Absent.
"Hahhh..." he exhaled through his nose, sharp and quiet.
He stood there as beams of light beamed down through the cracks of bone, almost like a painting of reflection.
But it was at that moment, dust rolled across the sand in a low veil -- larger than it had before.
WOOOOH!
His eyes shot up.
"--shit." Paleck's silhouette blurred at the edges -- already farther than he'd been a moment ago.
He didn't look back at his arm, as it angled towards itself towards ground, motionless, stiff.
There wasn't even enough time to catalogue any of this.
Fear had to wait.
WOOOOH!
He pushed off the ground and moved.
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
He crunched across the ground, as the wind whistled in his wake. With his arm limp at his side and eyes squinting through the heat, he trailed the figure ahead of him, simply because...
The only way was forward.
WOOOOH!