"Something's wrong..." Eídal whispered as he scrubbed his face furiously.
"Something is definitely wrong!"
Behind a communal washbasin, he desperately tried to wipe the black blood from his cheeks. He was alone.
The water in the barrel had already begun to darken, clouds of black mixing with the clear surface every time he plunged his hands into it. No matter how many times he washed, however, he could still feel the sticky residue clinging to his skin.
He scrubbed harder.
His cheeks reddened.
His fingers trembled.
Still, the sensation wouldn't disappear.
It wasn't simply the blood.
He could still see it.
Luba's spear.
The white flash.
The heads falling.
The earth splitting apart.
The flames.
And that woman walking through it all as though she had merely finished an unpleasant chore.
Unable to bear his anger toward himself any longer, Eídal plunged his head into the water barrel until his ears were submerged.
For a few seconds, there was nothing.
No voices.
