The last thing he remembered is the man he and his twin was fighting was leaping at him, one arm cocked back to deliver the most vicious blow, then a flash of white, the sound of thunder, his whole face exploding into a web of pain, then nothing. No sound reached his ears, no light crossed his eyes. He floated in a listless limbo, unaware, completely removed from the fight. His whole body tingled with numbness; he felt cold on his back; the air smelled of burning dirt.
His name echoed infinitely, as if it came from everywhere and nowhere, around him and within him. He knew he should recognize the voice, but he was not sure if he could trust the memory. They were all fuzzy, jumbled together, moving too quickly to pin down.
"Come on, Yani, please!"
He felt a cool spot on his jaw, and it spread across his face, slow and strong. It tingled with how deep it penetrated, and the bone itself felt hot under cold skin.
"Don't die on me!"
He still couldn't recall the name of the kid that was helping him, and the memory was getting harder to reach, further away...
"Come back, Yani, come back!"
The voice was fading further away, the heat of his bones in his jaw and head subsided, the cool on his skin abated later. He couldn't hear the boy's voice for a long time, and he started to worry that he actually died. That couldn't be true, Yani thought, I couldn't have died. I can still draw breath, feel my heart beat.
Beyond knowing how to live, he couldn't think of anything else that tied him to the other kid's voice, or where he was. He only faintly remembered who he was. He knew his name, his power, and his familiar.
He began to feel cool dots on his face. He wondered if it had started raining, wherever his body lay.
He wished he knew the poor kid, could tell him that he would be alright. He wished he believed that himself, that his health was secure.
The light is made brighter by the darkness that surrounds it.
He is the light, I am the darkness.
Tread carefully, for the shadows are hungry...