I’m in no hurry. No need to ambush immediately, despite my screaming, demanding mind mud. He might speak more. I could learn something from his frustration. Maybe even steal another song? Although, he doesn’t sound particularly gifted. He said that he recently arrived from somewhere else and hasn’t learned anything yet. Alas, is he like me, woken fresh from his mud with no songs of his own?
Regardless, if he sleeps, then it’ll be much easier to draw red. He might be young, but so am I. No point risking a tricky ambush with a low likelihood of success. No point dragging that dream out here into reality.
I hear clanking and banging as the young one sounds as though he’s unpacking. Then sloshing, splashing, and sizzling. What is he doing? Since the young one is so focused on this effort, I decide to slowly risk peeking my head out from behind the tree. The glistening from my eyes in the fire’s light is a risk, but I can manage that by keeping them as narrow as possible.
The scene that opens is an odd one. There’s an awkwardly placed large, bubble-like metal hanging over the fire with two sticks pounded into the ground poorly holding it up. The sticks keep slowly falling to the side under the uneven weight distribution, requiring him to constantly cycle between setting them back up straight and tending to the hot metal with a long piece of wood. An interesting, clean smoke appears to rise up from the metal as he works.
How strange. Is it like my special fire song? Is this one meant to summon that smoke? But why? Puzzling over the display, I patiently wait for his effort to climax and explain itself. Finally, he takes the wood from the metal up to his face and inserts it into his mouth.
“Pff–tah!” he exclaims and spits before continuing in his usual grumpy muttering. “Disgusting. These are the exact same ingredients and steps, so how is this coming out so different?”
Oh, is he learning? Practicing? Maybe that’s why this makes no sense. A discordant song, unpleasing to the mind. Not that the mind mud ever seems to care in the slightest about these songs. It’s the other mind. The deeper mind that peeks out from time to time from beneath the mud. It jiggles and shakes at the sight of song, as if wanting to break free and join them.
“At least it’s better than nothing,” he mutters again, shoulders sagging and appearing deeply defeated.
The young one takes another round half bubble of wood from his bag and fills it from the metal. Then sitting with his back against a nearby tree, he begins shoveling the long wood up into his mouth.
“It’s so boring and tedious without something to watch while you eat. Oh! I wonder if anything’s changed,” he suddenly exclaims, bringing a hand up to flick out with a snap in front of his face.
Before his eyes, a rectangular glowing light quickly springs into existence. He stares at it intently, nodding and grinning as he continues the shoveling. I can barely make out what looks to be scratches and shapes floating on the light. Another hidden world contained within a special light? Whatever it is, it appears to deeply fascinate him.
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Maintaining my eyes as narrow as possible despite my surprise, I slowly pull my head back behind the tree. Staring at my hands for a moment, I try to imitate his snapping gesture. However, no light appears for me. Is it a song I can’t steal? What did he do?
Suddenly a meteoric shift occurs in my mind. The mud briefly collapses, crying out in terror. The other mind reaches up, jealously pining for the young one’s light. My hands shoot up to the sides of my head as if to contain the expansion. The pain is terrible. Can’t make a noise or he’ll know I’m here. I have to suppress it.
Bending over and pressing my forehead hard into the ground, I hope to pour it out, emptying my head of all this newness. All the longing demands from the other mind. The deep mind. However, it won’t go away. The pain and intensity only grows worse with time. The mind mud constantly slides and shifts about, fruitlessly trying to cover up whatever lies underneath, but it’s too much! I can’t disobey.
Rolling back over to my stomach and crawling on hands and knees, I stick my head back out from the tree. Perhaps too fast, but it doesn’t matter. The young one is so engrossed in this light that the world is otherwise dead to him.
Perfect, perfect, it’s perfect. I can stop the pain with this. Anything to stop the pain! Even if it’s not song, it still may be treasure. If I ambush now, I can take it in my hands and rip it from him. Then it’ll be my light, my treasure.
Like a serpent, I wiggle forward low to the ground beneath the light of the fire. Slowly, slowly I creep forward until I can reach out and grasp at his toes. However, he’s still so occupied with the light above that he takes no notice. Pulling my body back like a spring, I release all the energy up at the light, my hands extending to embrace it.
“What the–” the young one gasps, just barely managing to get something out before my dirty, muddy hands wrap around his light.
Now in my grasp, I wrench and pull as hard as I can. The young one’s eyes roll up into his head, exposing the disgustingly clean whites beneath. Sweat pours out as he begins to tremble and shake, as if his body is compulsively trying its hardest to expel some deeply dangerous invader. He falls over, his mouth open, and vomits onto the ground. He draws red from his own eyes and ears as the trembling only amplifies into more and more violence.
I can’t let go, I won’t let go. This light is mine now! He can’t have it, it was meant for me!
I violently swing my body from side to side as hard as I can, forcing the corners to slowly inch towards me with each beat. Yes! A new song, of course! This one is my creation, the treasure light stealing song. Swing and pull, rip and tear. What once was yours, is now mine to bear!
The light suddenly flashes, freeing itself from whatever was binding it to the young one, and slams into my unprepared face. Blinded, I fall backwards with a loud slam. My hands reflexively claw at my face in defense, desperately trying to remove the accidental invader sneaking in through my eyes. However, it’s too late. I can feel it. The other mind now content, it recedes back beneath the mud. The treasure is mine now, but at what cost? What did it do? What have I done?
With crazed eyes lit by the consequences of my greed, I sit up and glare at the young one, realizing he may be a threat. However, the trembling has stopped, his body now lying still on the ground. He appears lifeless. I quickly dash forward, drawing metal from my hip, and stab him in the eye. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t appear to care at all. Did he really die? That was all it took? What weak and pathetic creatures these big ones are if they cease simply from losing their little lights.

