The white light of the moon illuminates the exit ahead, I find Jarkar smoking his old brown pipe.
Waiting for me.
He isn't wearing a smile.
He feels bad for me.
"Want to know what it feels like to die"? I ask as I step out of the dark tunnel that descended down for a long while before rising.
It took me thirty minutes to get here.
A wide foot ball sized opening is up above, letting the light in to nurture the red mana grass here.
It is separated into sections, and a cul-de-sac is positioned against the shadow of the moonlight.
The houses are all two story, and pretty nice in comparison to where I was born.
Gazing upon the scene I chuckle at Bunds words.
I hate irony.
I need iron.
Irony.
"Sure" he shrugs, and I thank whatever gods may be for this crazy ass kid.
Cycling my mana through my lower back, and into my spiritual root I touch Jarkars chest above his heart.
