By the time Sunny was nearly finished with the weave, two of his four incarnations had collapsed and turned into shadows. The shadows then crawled across the emerald grass tiredly before wrapping themselves around the third.
That third incarnation, which had been responsible for weaving the vast and intricate tapestry of radiant strings, did not look too good itself. Its four shadow hands had been shredded and rebuilt so many times that their shape was now vague and immaterial, not quite intangible, but also far from being solid.
And although the countless terrible burns and bone-deep cuts he had suffered were already healed by the purifying white flames, the burden of having suffered them remained, making him look ragged and frail. His eyes were like two pools of deep darkness, obscuring the fragile state of his exhausted mind.
Second chapter will be posted in a few hours.