He sat gazing into the horizon, his hand full of silver dust.
Dust that will be his salvation, his escape.
“Where were you?!” “Why didn’t you help us?” “You criminal!”
Voices of the past echoed in his mind, lingering reminders of his failures.
The dust felt light and welcoming in his hand.
‘All you need to do is to inhale.’ He thought to himself.
This world would be gone, his responsibilities would be gone, and all his unintended consequences would be gone.
He brought the dust closer to his face, sensing the excited particles waiting to whisk him away.
The idea of being free was exhilarating.
Though, would he be free?
He’d be a deserter.
He’d be shaking his responsibility and like a rock it would weigh him down for eternity.
‘The time is now!’ His mind yelled, ‘You will have eons to get over it!’
Would the passing of eons even begin to touch the guilt?
His mind raced.
He would be solely responsible for handing over Kairos.
Is that something one can move past?
But what could he do?
There is nothing to be done.
He closed his eyes to inhale.
‘The Edict. The Harbinger.’ He thought.
‘No, it’s a dead-end.’
‘What about the scholars?’
What if you abandon Kairos when there was a chance, no matter how remote?
He lowered his hand.
He lowered it further.
Even the smallest amount can be enough.
‘I must try.’
He poured the dust back into its pouch, pulled his hood from his cloak over his head and set out to find that small sliver of hope.