Amara cried somewhere in the distance. She called out to him, over and over again. Her voice was far away.  Nowhere near his side.  

    Another voice called out to Atticus. A woman. Her voice was unfamiliar, but she was close to him. 

   Atticus cracked open his eyes. The blurred image of a woman hovered over his face. Her green eyes were filled with tears. Her nose was red and her cheeks flushed. Despite the redness in her eyes and the tears that stained her cheeks, she was incredibly beautiful. 

    The woman had long golden hair, framing a delicate face.  Long pointed ears pierced through her hair.  

    She was an elf. 

  The woman’s hand was extended, placed somewhere near or on Atticus but he couldn’t feel her touch. He attempted to move his body but the weight of his bones wouldn’t let him. The little energy he did have he directed to moving his head. But even that amount of effort drained him. 

   “Etta callhum tuat! Mas kalman idorshen serpre! Sal cona estashin cré en. Et tomar locren. Et simar moten.” The elf woman said. Her head bobbed in and out of his vision. Everytime she moved the ceiling would dip into his view. The colors now a deep blue with scattered white and streams of gold. 

  The ceiling was nothing like Atticus had ever seen. It was endless and ever changing. Small creatures with wings flew in the air. Weird chirpings came from every side but remained lovely nevertheless.

  Atticus lifted a heavy hand and placed it against the elf woman’s arm. “Where is Amara?” He asked. The woman snapped to attention, her eyes wide. “Amara.” He said again, his voice louder.  

   Amara heard him and cried for him harder. In the corner of his eye, he could see a stranger, another elven woman, bring her to him. Before the woman could put her down, Amara leapt out of her arms and into his.  

   Atticus smiled, stroking the hair on Amara’s head. “It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”  

  Turning his attention to the golden haired elf woman he did his best to point to himself and then to Amara. “Atticus. Amara.” He repeated the gesture until understanding sank in.  

  “Pruu fúrwan. Yl tincenta mincan ün Deidre. Deidre.” The woman said as she pointed to herself.  

  “Nice to meet you, Deidre.” Atticus said. He looked at the ceiling, his breathing slowed to a dangerous rate. Atticus tried moving his toes, but he couldn’t. He attempted to get any feeling in another part of his body but it just wasn’t responding. 

  “Deidre, can you do me a favor?” Atticus asked.  

  Would the woman be able to understand him? Would she help them at all? Was she even trustworthy? Did he have a choice?

   Deidre leaned in close, her brows stitched together.  

  “Please lookout for the youngblood for me? I would do it myself but I don’t think I can.” Atticus said. His eyes fluttered closed and his heart broke when he heard Amara scream for him. “Amara, know that I love you and I always will.”  

   “En conve’en! En conve’en!” Deidre shouted. “Chatla!”  

   Amara was taken away from Atticus. Her voice grew  distant until it was too far away for him to hear. The little warmth that she had brought to him was gone. And the heaviness of his body had quickly gone away. 

   For the first time in a long while the pain of hunger wasn’t present in Atticus anymore. He wasn’t sore or in pain. His body was at rest. But he did regret, and hearing Amara’s voice slowly fade from him, he deeply regretted leaving her.

   Regretted not being with her more.

   Not letting her know that he made a mistake and if he could, he would take it back. But that will never happen and he can never go back. 

   As the last bit of warmth left his body, he knew it was time. If he had known what would have happened, he would have changed the things he had done. 

   He would have spent more time with her. If he was lucky, he might be able to see her grow. But that was most likely never going to happen.  

   The choices he made didn’t matter anymore. 

   Because now, all the pain and worry were gone. He only hoped that this final choice was the best one.   

   Only time would tell. 

   But time will never tell him.