red sky at morning BY Carasson

More paralyzing dread and not at memories but the instead the complete lack of any memory that bothered him. They had been practicing blood magic. Alright. That might explain the over abundant presence of it around them, on each of them and even the familiar implements he could see atop the table. But it failed to explain why none of that rang true in him, why none of it resonated. He'd had his bell rung more than once in his life but each time he could remember bits and pieces. Right there there was nothing but void looking back at him. 

Heels of his hands rubbed methodically at his eyes as he dropped back to his heels in a child's position. Maker, Chip....this isn't right. He groaned from behind his hands, still bowed into the pose as if he was paying some sort of homage to royalty the way he bent inches from the other man. He truly feared having to ever remember what happened. He hoped he never would. A far away part of him, deep and buried now almost chuckled at that thought. 

No more blood magic. It was a plea and a promise. If Chip had asked for this, may he never ask for it again. And if Cara had willingly begun the ritual of letting, may he never touch that dagger until he got some much needed answers. 

He looked up again, searching for the Chip he knew and finding him quite altered. All he did was shake his head, afraid of what either of them could say to make this matter. All the while that sinking feeling that he had more a hand in this remained persistant inside of him. I can help...you. Still squatting on the floor he reached out, aiming for the Keeper's hand if only to hold for his own comfort.