THRICE FOR ANOTHER DAY / return to island

[bubblegum]

[AXCIO]

[align=center][div style="width: 435px; text-align: justify; font-family: work sans light, arial; line-height: 1.2; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 8pt"]Return
/rəˈtərn/
Verb

1. The waves sways, and does Axcio with a gentle smile and irradiant eyes. Back and forth, forth and back. Repetition in a form of relaxation. No longer is its body full of hellfire and hurricanes, it can breathe again.

2. Perked ears, posture straight, as it listens to the lullaby, created with icy bones and cold blood, it watches the blurry figures leaving behind their sailboats, yet not abandoning them like they did with their island for several weeks, it seems.

3. For Axcio, it had only been a few days since it appeared by the Home of silver grins and iron bones, bodies made to carry mayhem. Days of the Salamanders cackling in glorious gold over the Gnomes who grieved for their lost creations, with their claws all black and hearts beating blue.

4. Familiarity was found behind the sounds that were born from Balance itself—cheering and crying, laughing and wailing, living and dying—

5. It exists for too long. It knows just too much.

6. Everyone, be careful! Most of the island's safe now but ya still gotta be cautious. Don' do anythin' stupid. Unload supplies n' then go find out if your home's alright. If ya left anythin' in the Deep Sea Dome, feel free to go there n' grab your stuff.

7. Axcio lifts its gaze over to the Captain and tilts its head, features lacks emotions. It then glances at the Sea behind it. Blink. Blink. Blink. "Return..." it only mutters, and the word leaves the world shivering.

8. Couple of seconds then—one, two, three, four, five—it also exits from the sailboat, movements slow and shaky. Though, nothing is seen with it that makes its legs tremble and, suffering is what it bares.

9. Suffering is all of what it has. It presses deep into its body, nearly pushing it towards the sands, scorching they are as Hell resides right beneath its paws. The bones cracked and flesh burnt, weeping for it to fall, and fall, and fall.

10. How amusing. How unfortunate.

11. Despite the pain it has to breathe in now, it exhales only endurance. It raises its head a bit, attention on the moving figures. "If-if... anyone needs some help with carrying their belongings, I'm... I'm here." A soft offer, coming from a soft being ( with sharpen teeth and growling belly. Will anyone accept it? )

12. "I'm here," it repeats, yet more quietly, and yet, can it be said more to itself, perhaps. Given more than a statement. A promise that can never be broken.

13. It stares at the Reality. Ashes and char settles in between cage, soon painting the skeleton of it from ivory to sable. Scents and signs of Life are gone. Replaced with mockery towards the Devil and their dead land. Smoky eyes and glazed gazes, intentions well hidden before the tears breaks out. Vulnerability now manifests.

14. It sits and quickly wipes the thin trails of its exhaustion away. It breathes, and it breathes, then it notices existence within some flowers and objects, here and there, and recalls the time it found an undamaged bell when it appeared on the island. They were signs of Hope.

15. Waiting to be used so they can all try again.