Author's Note: This isn't dead, I swear...

Stig's mind was a ship.

A ship that sailed through the endless skies, with memories crammed into the boards and stitched into the sail. On this ship, he was captain, and the ghosts that glided silently across the deck were all he needed. But they only remained as long as their living counterpart drew breath - and if their living counterpart died or was otherwise lost, the ghost withered and faded to the faintest memory. Hal's ghost was the brightest of them all. This ship was his haven, his retreat, his safety from the world.

She sailed on a sea of dreams, fast but not terribly agile as she raced against the great dark beast beneath the waves. The beast was always there, in the corner of his eye, impossible to confront directly, something that could only be dealt with by avoiding it. But it was hunting him, and he was running out of room to run.

Stig's heart was a star.

A star that shone as brightly as the stars in the sky, bright and silver and blazing. A guiding light for those lost or confused, a fixed point in a world wracked with chaos. Stig was a man often ruled by his heart, and his heart was remarkably steady. It was not a backup system, but the compass by which he lived. The star lit the way through vast and treacherous landscapes to those things which Stig valued highly and guarded jealously - his friends, his mother, and his pride. To win his heart was to be trusted with all these things, and he did not trust easily.

But his star shone on through it all, ranging from a beacon so bright it threatened to overwhelm the sky to a faint, near-invisible pinprick.

Stig's soul was the sun.

The sun, which blazed hot and fierce, even when thunderous storm clouds and pouring rains threatened to wash away the world below. Even the mightiest storms could not put it out - but they could block it, obscure its shining light and leave him blind and lost. Alternatively, the storms could never come and leave the scorching heat to burn away the seas and grass and reduce him to naught but smoke and ash.

The sun brought life, but it could also kill, and every day it moved inexorably towards its own destruction.