Another opportunity where Pash expected his fear to rise, but it was instead, he felt disgust. Not with the fly, but with himself. 'Was that me?' he wondered, biting his lip.
"Here," he spoke quietly, hoping that neither Bell nor Mane could hear him.
Sure enough, as he had expected it would, the fly buzzed through the air at his command, landing upon his outstretched hand, its eyes glowing with a faint blue fire.
Pash fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. He quickly understood the power that had been given to him. The power that hundreds of thousands had sought after. It was likely unfair, wasn't it? To them? They had given their lives in an attempt at obtaining it, whereas he received it with an unwillingness. It felt like a disease.
"Is that you… Pash?" He heard a weak voice call out, as Mane turned his head in his bed to look his way.
Pash quickly shook the fly off from him before responding. "It is. How are you feeling, Sir Mane?"
