//------------------------------//
// Filler: Guilt 
// Story: The Smokeless Flame 
// by BIGBLACKINTOSH 
//------------------------------//

The breeze passed over the saddle arabian sand, carrying cigarette smoke with it. I stood facing the seemingly endless desert, Luna’s moon shining on the dunes. I took another long drag and heard near silent footsteps behind me. Only indication that it was my friend of the nest  “Didn’t know you smoked Crow.”Sand crunched next to me and Ghost, Mitchel, was there standing with me, staring at the land with the most bored gaze in eyes. He wouldn’t be out here if he wasn’t concerned about me. I wasn’t surprised, I had been acting “strange” since we started training the defective changelings. Six long weeks of training and I spent a good bit of it flying or being overly careful with trainees. 

“Yeah, anxiety tends to form new habits.” The sigh escaped my lips in a puff of smoke, dragging Mitchel into a coughing fit. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ass.” He huffed dryly. “Though, thats not really new. You may think you’re slick, but I’ve saw you back home too. Waiting for the entry test results, dog going into the vet. Caught you a few times when we were flying. Mp3’s weren't the only thing on you and Night’s mind that day were they?” He asked, his tone feigning boredom, but he was searching, waiting for my answer. 

Smoke escaped my nostrils this time, my annoyance steadily becoming more apparent. “And when did you start caring so much?”

The man simply shrugged, taking several long minutes before speaking again, almost startling me when he did. “I’m an asshole, I know that much. I’ve been one since we’ve met, as you’ve been to me. But the thing is, I give a shit,” He said harshly, looking to me sharply. “If only a little. I’m a shitty friend, but I’m still your friend and I know something’s wrong when you start smoking again. You know I don’t give a shit that you do, but its normally a sign,” he glared at the glowing cancer stick in my clawed fingers like an annoying alert light.

I didn’t respond for a while, my only sign that I was listening was looking at him when he spoke, looking up to the sky when he was done. We stood there, under Luna’s bright white moon, the occasional gust of wind blowing a bit of sand over us. Suddenly, Mitchel wasn’t there any more, leaving nothing but boot prints in the sand. For a moment I thought he had come to his senses and gone to bed, but no, he came back, carrying a pair of chairs and two bottles of Addar’s “tea” in tow. He gave the back of my knees a kick and fell into the chair, fumbling to recover my fallen cigarette. “Ass.”

I couldn’t drink, I wanted to be clear headed for what I wanted to say. “Rand. Randy.” I said simply, almost expecting Mitchel to remember who that was. He didn’t react, but his blank gaze said he didn't remember the name. “One of the guys we lost on the way here. Went overboard and I tried to save him.” The legs of my chair sunk deeper into the sand as I slumped into it, entertaining the thought of the earth itself wanting to swallow me for my mistake. “I jumped to save him and, I guess I wasn’t fast enough.” 

To his credit, Mitchel didn’t say anything, he just listened. “Back when we had the zebra boys, the boys from that village, I didn’t think twice of them, no one did and those guys were pretty much used as... I don’t even know how to describe that fight, could you? Anyway, they were out of any of our hands, no one could have gotten to them in time, they’re nothing on my mind.” I flicked away my cigarette and looked at the hand that did it, staring at its fingers. “But that ram. Randy was so close. He was only an inch away from hand. Only an inch away from life. And I," I choked, tripping over my words. "He’s gone. A grease stain on some part of the ocean.” I said, flatly, with no tone. Someone’s life was within my hands and I failed to grab them. 

Again, Mitchel didn’t say anything, what could he say? He knew the normal consolation didn’t apply here. There was nothing to say to bring back the man we lost. So he just remained quiet. The quiet was enough. I didn’t reach for another cigarette, didn’t see the point. Didn’t join him in drinking the dragonoid’s fire water. The winds had calmed a bit more, only the most gentle of breezes drifting past me. I would have fell asleep there in the raggedy chair, if I didn’t fall out of it first. I brushed the sand off my face with a groan. With a smile I had realized the reason why Mitchel hadn’t been talking. The lightest of snores escaped him. Being the best friend that I am, I kicked the of his chair, sending into the sand gracefully. Before I headed toward the ship for my bunk, I gave him a thankful look, not looking back again as I headed for the ship, yearning for some sleep.