'Just a minute!' He thought to himself, knowing the sulfurous gas wouldn't do any harm over a short period. He braced himself and pushed the palm of his hand toward the blue flame. He was too shy to dare touch it.
In the periphery of his sight, he looked at the veins at the back of his hand and remembered the blue labyrinthic patterns drawn over the corpses of the intoxicated victims. He could still picture the purple-circled eyes that announced imminent death and made hope leave the brave's side.
The torch in front of him had much more heat than Seisyll's cold flame, and its wood was somehow being consumed at a fast pace. The less wax on the candle, the deeper his memories ventured into the distorted cave.
'It is but a nightmare of the past.' He thought while shaking his head. He had yet to take back his breath.
