3 | Cyclone

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Thorn shielded his eyes with his hand, covering them from the harsh light. Through the gap of his fingers, he could see a silhouette. The figure was sitting on the playground climber, making him appear to be higher than he was.

His legs were hanging loosely, almost like the legs of someone who'd hung themselves. But this person was very much alive, and he smiled at Thorn.

Though, his smile was cold and hollow.

"Hey, Thorn." Cyclone didn't come down, but his voice was clear, like air in the autumn's winds. "It's nice to see you again."

Thorn tried to adjust to the sunlight, but he could only clasp peeks of the wind elemental's slender figure.

"Yes," he agreed. "It's nice."

He could tell the older teen wasn't wearing his cap. Instead, he could peek at shadows of his hair, curly strands that resembled calm rivers and soft waves. Perhaps it had fallen off.

Cyclone released a content sigh, looking up to bathe in the sea of endless blue. The sun's rays didn't bother him the slightest, and there were no clouds in the sky. "Did you come to play?" he asked, hollow like the others. "I've come up with a wonderful game."

"I'd love to, but no." Thorn could feel sweat roll down his cheeks. "Do you know where they are? Our friends, I mean."

"Ah, of course." Cyclone's voice was empty. He talked with a cheery front, yet the blankness lingered always. "How long has it been again, Thorn?"

"I don't know."

"Interesting, like usual." Cyclone turned his back on Thorn, now facing the other side. His silhouette looked smaller, and he looked even farther away from him.

The sun framed him like it was engulfing him.

Thorn nodded. Not to Cyclone, but to himself. With a spin of his head, he walked himself to the cemented path.

There was a tree by the playground. On one of its branches hung a cap. As Thorn left the playground, the white and blue cap fell to the ground, and landed in a pile of dried grass and withered flowers.

𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺  [✔️]Where stories live. Discover now