[mature] as out of my control as anything has ever been

[Gale]

Gale this is going to break me clean in two -- this is going to bring me close to you Mazikeen clenches her talons tighter, but there is not enough air in Gale’s lungs for anything but a soft groan against the red snow. He can taste the blood on his lips when he inhales, and hear the furious rumble in the dragon’s voice as she leans closer. The blood loss makes him delirious, a sensation that Gale has never experienced before. He has always healed before this point; his magic keeping him more than safe. He thinks: it is not so bad to be without magic. If he lets his mind go fuzzy, he can hardly even feel the pain. What she says next is wrong, so wrong that the absurdity of it makes him laugh. It’s not a real laugh, just a single fast exhale and the barest twitch of his navy lips where they rest against the snow. That would be fucking convenient, if only it could remain true. That he had done terrible things to Malik is not unexpected. Gale had seen far too much wariness in the boy’s eyes to suspect anything less, but he has thus far been spared the return of those memories. They’ll come eventually, he knows. They all will.  Gale is wondering how soon it will be, wondering exactly how long it will take for him to die, wondering if he will remember everything when waking or while in the nothingness before resurrection. When Mazikeen pulls away, he feels the quick rivulets of blood from where her talons had pierced him, the missing weight registering a century-long millisecond later. Her voice sounds distorted, as though she is speaking from very far away. Or perhaps he is far away, falling down a dark cavern with no end while never moving at all. He can see the lightning where she is, shimmering in a familiar blue-white light, illuminating the world he’s slipping away from. It’s so much brighter there, where she is, but when he starts to reach for the lightning he remembers, speaking himself as he whispers: “No more magic.” But he’s already dying, some part of him retorts, why continue to resist when the result will be the same? Wether he heals himself or dies, there will be magic, and the memories will return. There’s no escaping. He’d known that from the moment he’d chosen to come to Hyaline, just as he’d known that he would rather die than remember. And yet it seems he is doubly cursed, for he cannot even die. Mazikeen asks a question, and after a rattling breath, he finds himself repeating: “No more magic.” Another breath, and then another, because there’d not been enough air in the first, “When I use it the memories.” This time it takes a fourth breath, and the edges of his vision have begun to flicker with electric light. “The memories come back.” @Mazikeen