I

Dreams of liquid sapphire taunted me mercilessly. I was sure that when I edged upon the pool of liquid gold, that it would vanish into the distance as so many had before. I stepped closer and closer, cautious not to raise my hopes, but deep down, I knew this one was real. Sure enough, it was.
I knelt down, splashed some of the lifeblood onto my face, eyes closed. My skin soaked up the water in a frenzied struggle, facing off against gravity. My cracked lips burned in the sudden rush of moisture; my eyes stun for just a moment, and then reveled in the liquid. I drank. Slowly, to let my body adjust, I drank, all the while the pool showering me with a light show of ripples in the sun.
Once satisfied, I sat, hearing every joint creak, every muscle scream in agony. How long had I been in this desert? A week? A month? How long had I been following this man? I knew it was more than two years, and fairly certain it was less than 6, but I could not remember my life before I began this hunt. Certainly it wasn't as important anyway.
I leaned over the water to gaze at my own reflection, the sapphire waters drawing me in. I did not recognize the vessel that came to meet my eyes, but I did recognize the eyes. Pale grey orbs rimmed with blue. I knew those eyes. They were my own.
Was this really what I had become? I appeared no more than a hollow shell of a man, a vessel whose soul had long since died, but did not know it. My once vibrant clothes, now bleached by the sun of this purgatorial desert, hung loosely on my darkening skin, tattered by innumerable sandstorms.
I knew there were lands beyond the desert, lands that were more hospitable, more civilized, but I had no clear memory of any of them. I gazed a little longer into the water, imagining what I could have been. I could have stayed in those lovely lands, calm, protected and watching the end of days come slowly without a care. I could have become the man I followed. So alike were we, though polar opposites, that it was almost eerie. It was as if we were cut from opposite sides of the same stone, as if we were opposite ends of the same curve.
I remember shaking my head vigorously then, so hard that I almost lost my balance and fell into that world of cool liquid life. I had other things to think about. The sun was beginning to set. Though no cooler than midday, I had less than an hour of daylight left, and I had not even begun to set camp.
I went through all the normal routines, pitched my tent, gathered wood for a fire, and went hunting. Just before last lights I managed to shoot a desert fox. I skinned it and set it on the fire, feeling vindicated because I had spared the beast another night in this hell. I went through all the normal routines, and then veered wildly off course. Instead of tending to the fox, and pacing about my small, grey camp; instead of sitting on another grey log staring at my grey boots or at the grey wood slowly catching fire, I went to the sapphire pool. Entranced, I sat there staring at my reflection, staring through it, and prepared myself for another evening of nightmares.