Corn was pacing up and down, up and down, up and down in his little gray cell, his shoes making little echo on the undecorated, dark cement. The monochrome, dull walls were suffocating and not because he felt confined - although after these months he could feel the confinement - but because Cloud was out there, taken by people that cared nothing for him, they only wanted to harm Corn and others.
Corn contemplated, not for the first time, whether he would be better off dead. But that would not bring Cloud to safety; no. The kidnappers would either do something horrible to his little boy, or they would tie up loose ends and ...

"Aaaah!" Corn shouted, not for the first time, his fingers intertwining with his black hair - that have now started to show a bit of white from worry.
"I have not murdered my in-laws, but I led their murderer to their door. " Corn said to the mirror. He kicked the gray, dull wall.
And then, he again realized that he was talking to the mirror and taking his frustration out on walls.
I am losing it. No way around it. If this goes on, they will have to put me down as a rabid animal - and where that would leave Cloud!? Corn thought. It was all he could do to pretend to hold it together for the official meetings, but when he was alone, his mind went to places. Do the Mad start like me? He wondered.

He started forming the imago to reach Cloud... and stopped. For the 100th time. The probability of a contingency spell that would send some nasty spell through the window was too high; for starters, Corn could now cast such a spell.
"Why? Why didn't I listen?" he asked the dark mirror again. And as usual, the mirror silently showed him the answer: He had only himself to blame for that. There was not a single mage, in his 11 years awakened, that told him that was a good idea. He kicked that dull gray wall, again.

Before he suffocated, Corn, with permission, went out of the cell to stretch his legs and get a book or two from where Skye , bless her heart, has left them. He needed more to occupy his mind.

Then, amidst the white and black-bound books, he found the turquoise envelope. Curious, he brought the envelope from his friend to his dull gray cell. There, in the cold white light of the lamp, surrounded by ashen-colored walls, the man that saw only in shades of gray opened the envelope and was greeted by an explosion of color.

letter


The care of that quirky, loyal friend of his to use a different pen for each line was probably done on a whim. But in doing so, she brought some color to this gray, bleached place. His heart was warmed. This was a minor kindness, but it matter so much.
She will probably not realize that she pushed back the day that I would snap and lose my mind and my life. Corn thought as he pinned the Turquise envelope on the gray wall, over the gray floors, illuminated by the cold white light, and right over the colorless, merciless, accursed mirror that was constantly condemning him in silence over the demise of his in-laws and the loss of his son.