[Broadcast Mind]
You're surrounded by corpses. The bodies of those you loved. The bodies of the ones you hated. Maggots, white and fat, feed on all of them equally. The sound of chewing is deafening and you want to cover your ears against it, but instead your arms are outstretched and beckoning.
"Cume mec."
Come to me.
You're unsteady on your feet. You have no idea how long you've been standing there but your best guess would be somewhere between ten days and forever. Sometimes it does come close, the mist curling around your fingers. It feels strange outside of your body, like the air is infused with your very blood.
You don't speak the same language, but you're certain that you're kith and kin. And eventually it pools like water in your palms, sinking down through your pores. Your body soaks it up like a sponge, until there's none left. Your eyes turn to burnished gold.
You can move forward now, uncharacteristically graceful as you pick and choose those you want to live again, those you never want to see die. You start with your king (once, future, forever) and you crown his head with magic. But there's so many others. Everyone really. (Except him. Except her.) The maggots are left to starve.
So why do you still hear them chewing?
When you look down, there are golden maggots in the palms of your hands. And they're eating you alive from the inside out.