Delicious Fruit

Tycondrius was no stranger to nightmares. 

In the night, he'd relive a thousand failures, experience horrors impossible for a wakeful mind to comprehend, and suffer underneath the crushing weight of his collective doubt. 

He had learned to sleep, despite them. 

It *was* uncommon to suffer a nightmare while awake... but the level of anxiety he was experiencing, he had grown more-or-less accustomed to. 

Well over a hundred personally-felt deaths burdened Tycon's soul. 

However, the pain of losing each and every one of his stalwart companions remained. 

Granted, the ache had dulled over however-many decades. 

Tycon identified it as... guilt. 

It was guilt for remaining alive and hale while others far-more-deserving were... not so.