entry - reusing old stuff

[Breado]

"Hello, young flit," said the flit, her voice breaking as she struggled to get the words out, "What's your name?"

"E-Emera..." The little flitling answered. His black shadow hand was tucked under his belly as he approached the glowing flit. "And... and you? Who are you... miss?" Although Emera didn't see it, as he finally got close enough he smelled the irony smell of blood. "Are you alright?"
The flit before him struggled out a giggle. "I am as good as dead, little one." She took a deep breath. "My name is Amaranth. I am what you refer to as a 'guide'."

Emera has only heard his father's tales about 'guides' - these flits were like lesser gods, being able to communicate with the dead and they're always followed by two other spirits referred to as 'helpers'. He tried to focus but even in the dim light of Amaranth's glowing markings he was unable to locate the two helpers. However, he noticed two big gashes at the base of her neck, and one more on her side.
Amaranth continued.
"I was attacked and barely managed to escape. But I know I will not see the light of a new day... Oh how I will miss those sunrises," she mused, weaker every sentence. "But I'm so lucky to have met you, little Emera," she smiled. "If you accept my gift, please, take my place and help lost spirits find peace in this world." Amaranth coughed. "Please, tell me quick, will you accept it?"

Emera just stared at her like someone was holding a knife to his throat. He knew he didn't have to accept the dying guide's offer, but...