Left in pain to stay focused the two breathed noisily. “You know, before you arrived the illusions were a lot easier to identify, my comrades were dead, they most certainly would not be able to haunt me.”

“Excuse me for wandering in here, you could’ve left warning signs outside the forest.” again snickering he replied, trying to laugh off the numbing pain in his hand. “Did the illusions of your friends try to communicate something to you?”

It was Sujelas turn to snicker. “They weren’t my friends, they were comrades.” she sighed under the pain, but took a deep breath. “And they just haunted me with images of tgeir death, asking why I had not helped them. But as I knew that it was the forest, I didn’t care.” again she sighed, but not from the pain. “The illusions I get now however are of another matter.”

The mourning around them subsided, an island of silence seemed to engulf the two, but distracted by the pain in their hands, neither noticed at first. “Let me guess, images of you killing me, or me making you wish to do so?”

“On the contrary,” inhibitions to keep the delicate nature of the illusions to herself fell off, stripped away by the pain. “they are quite arousing.” for a moment Tophans grip loosened, but tightened the next moment. “As are mine.” a sudden calm tone in his voice had an equally calming effect on Sujela. “Just before, the illusion was trying to kiss me, breathed as an answer to my remark of letting go of our hatred that we might exchange malevolent passion with benevolent one.” Sujelas grip loosened as well for just one moment. In the pitch black darkness her blushing went unseen. “My illusion remarked that I might crave intimacy, with the illusion of you I mean.”

Holding on to each others hand only tenderly, each twitch the other made felt like a bump of the strongest intensity, yet soft and arousing.

“I think we are going crazy.” she added after some time in which she noticed the lack of moans from the forest. “I think you are right.” Tophan also had noticed the change around them.

With the lack of mourns came a lack of illusions, whether it had come due to their still pulsating hands, or due to the silence, was a question they couldn’t answer.

In the silent darkness their thoughts unfolded before them, much like the illusions. Deprived of sleep and stimuli, the ponderings of the weary minds became as realistic, tangible and dominant as if they were projected outward, with the thinker inside hir own thoughts.