Fukki stood looking at the desolate plains where once, a hundred years ago, he had spent a part of his life. A very precious part of this life- the closest thing to a childhood that he had ever had. That time was gone now, like the life that had once populated this part of the plains. Only grass remained, sparse and yellow, as if mirroring the harsh reality of what the place had become. He bent down and scooped up a handful of the dry, dusty soil, watching as it scattered and broke into individual motes of substance that lost themselves to the breeze. There was no reason for him to feel lonely, for all his old friends were about him, in the breeze, the rain, and in the soil. Even Dakki was there, her presence turning the caress of the earth on his bare skin into a mother's touch. Being in the birthplace of his humanity brought back memories, like talking to old friends. "Join us," They seemed to whisper, the grains of soil dancing in the wind. "Everything is past, and you have nothing left to do.." Fukki knew that he should, as one of the Ancients, one of the old ones. He wasn't born to this world, and thus had no right to interfere in the workings of those who were. Hadn't he done enough already, as it was? Yet he found himself unable to leave behind the life that he had built. In the short time that he had been human, he had discovered things that he had never known before. Pain, suffering, responsibility, but also love, friendship, and the hunger for more. /I want to live./ Somewhere in the time that he had been human, he had found himself. Gentle drops of rain fell down, bathing his body in warm moist waves and washing away the sweat and dust of his journey with a mother's gentle hands. Looking up, he cupped his hands to catch the droplets of moisture, clear and sweet to his parched throat. Beneath him the land was still under the first rain that had touched the ground in years. Soon, there would be green. ---- Fukki stood, looking at the desolate plains where once, a hundred years ago, he had spent a part of this life. A very precious part of this life, the closest thing to a childhood that he had ever had. It was gone now, of course, and so was the life that had once bustled, filling it with activity. Only grass remained, sparse and yellow, as if mirroring the life that had gone from it. He bent down and scooped up a handful of the dry, dusty soil, watching as it scattered in the breeze. There was no reason to feel lonely, for all his old friends were about him, in the air, the earth, and the soil. Even Dakki was there, making the caress of the earth on his bare skin feel like a mother's touch. Watching the grains of soil dance in the wind was almost like talking to old friends. "Join us.." They seemed to say. "It's all over now, what have you left to do?" Fukki knew that he should, as one of the Ancients. He wasn't of this world, had no right to interfere in the workings of those who were. Hadn't he done enough already? And yet.. he found himself unable to leave, to complete his merging with the planet. /I think of it as leaving, even though I'll still be here in body and spirit./ And he knew why. In the short time that he had allowed himself to be born again, he had discovered things that he had never known before. /I want to live./ More than that, he had discovered the joys of emotions, of living in a society where things weren't all old and fading, where there were people who weren't jaded with the dust of living into the centuries. /I want to live. I want to see all of the wonders and beauty of this world that I have never had a chance of experiencing./ Gentle drops of rain pattered down and wet his hair. Looking up, he cupped his hands to catch the droplets of moisture. The rain was warm, washing away the dust and sweat left by his journey to the plains.