A grim smile tugged at Eadrich’s lips, his composure returning in pieces. “Oh, this is bigger than you or me,” he said, his voice tinged with a dark edge. “It involves the God of Shadows. To most, he’s just a forgotten god, a relic of old tales. But to the Shadow Garden, he’s the God of Antimatter, the God of the New World. And with his power, we can reset this broken, corrupted world.”

  Astra, who had just returned from the bushes, froze mid-step. “Wait,” he interjected, his voice incredulous. “Why didn’t you just steal the gemstone from us? Instead of trying to fight us head on, then?” Asked Astra coming back from the bushes.

  Eadrich’s smirk deepened. “Oh, I see you did not tell the boy everything. The gemstone can’t just be stolen by anyone. Once the user has been given the gem they must willingly give it up to another person or no one else can use it. It is linked to the user’s soul. If someone takes it from the primary user then after a certain distance from the primary user, it will reappear back in that person’s possession like it was never gone. It’s not so easy to take, you see?” His eyes narrowed as he spoke in a low voice, like a predator sensing weakness.“So how did you even end up with it?”

  Bootstrap’s jaw tightened. “The gemstone isn’t what matters right now. Did you say Shadow Garden is releasing the God of shadows? You think that’s a solution? You’re playing with forces you can’t control.”

  Eadrich’s face was replaced with cold determination. “It is not about control. It is about survival. The gods have destroyed the world before, Wanderer. Us mortals have no choice but to fight back even if that means we have to team up with the God of shadows. The Father is our only hope for us to make this world right. The Father is the only one strong enough to command the god of shadows or, at the very least, take its power.”

  “You’re delusional,” Bootstrap snapped. “The gods didn’t destroy the world out of malice. Humanity’s greed drove them to act. The God of matter split itself into two to come down to our realm to help humans thrive, and how did we repay it? With betrayal.”

  Bootstrap laughed, a bitter sound that echoed in the dense fog surrounding them. “It’s laughable that you think some deranged man can handle the power of a primordial god like the God of shadows. Do you understand the magnitude of what you’re dealing with, monk?”

  Eadrich straightened, his posture betraying none of the unease creeping into his expression. “And yet, here you are, defending beings who have wiped entire civilizations off the face of existence.” His tone was cold, precise. “You speak of betrayal, but you conveniently omit the wrathful retribution that followed. The God of antimatter’s rampage left scars that have yet to heal. We are still cleaning up their mess, Wanderer.”

  Bootstrap’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with an almost paternal frustration. “So, the solution is to ally yourself with that same God of antimatter? Brilliant,” he retorted, his sarcasm cutting.

  Eadrich’s lips curled in a faint sneer. “The Father has his ways.”

  Caught between their heated argument, Astra raised his hands. “Wait, what betrayal? What are you talking about?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying his unease as his gaze darted between the two men.

  Bootstrap softened slightly as he turned to Astra. “You deserve to know the truth,” he began, his voice steady and deliberate. “In the beginning, there were two primordial gods: the God of matter and the God of antimatter. They existed in perfect harmony until the God of matter, curious about mortals, split into two: the God of space and the God of time. Together, they gave us magic, knowledge, and the chance to thrive. But humanity’s greed… it drove them to trap the God of space, believing they could take its power for themselves. That betrayal led to a cataclysm that nearly destroyed everything.”

  “Convenient story,” Eadrich scoffed, his scholar’s skepticism cutting through Bootstrap’s narrative. “You omit the crucial part where the gods, in their fury, annihilated entire civilizations. The mortals who survived bore witness to the wrath of beings who cared little for the lives they supposedly nurtured.”

  Bootstrap’s brows furrowed. “That destruction was not senseless. It was a response to the unimaginable treachery of mortals. The gods gave us everything: magic, prosperity, knowledge. And what did we give in return? Chains.”

  “And yet,” Eadrich shot back, his voice rising, “you defend those who have shown time and time again that mortals are expendable. It is time we mortals took back control. The Father is the only one strong enough to command the God of shadows or, at the very least, take its power to reset this broken world.”

  Bootstrap stepped forward, his tone low and dangerous. “You speak of control, but it is hubris, plain and simple. Do you think The Father, or anyone, can harness a primordial god’s power without consequences?”

  Astra’s head spun as the tension crackled around him. He opened his mouth to interject, to question further, when a chilling, commanding voice whispered directly into his ear.

  Save the world, Astra. Forget Bootstrap. Humanity has angered the gods before. Do not repeat their mistakes. Bootstrap lies. He has lied to you too. He blames you for hurting the children. You shouldn’t have taught them to steal.

  Astra froze. The voice was calm yet insidious, its words wrapping around his thoughts like tendrils of smoke. He glanced at Bootstrap, who was glaring at Eadrich, completely unaware of the voice. Astra’s heart pounded. Who is speaking to me right now? Is it telling the truth?

  Doubt took root, gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

  Before Astra could speak, a thick fog rolled in, carrying with it a wave of tingling.

  Bootstrap’s sharp eyes scanned the surrounding forest, his expression hardening. “A curse...,” he muttered, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. “There’s something in the air… it’s making me drowsy.”

  His accusing glare shot to Eadrich. “This has your fingerprints all over it.”

  Eadrich, his face pale but resolute, shook his head. “This is not my doing, Wanderer. It is affecting me too.” His cautious gaze shifted, scanning the surroundings. “As a matter of fact, I believe I know this magic. It is no ordinary sleeping spell. It is a curse that binds itself to recent magic users. This is the cursed forest of Ya-te-veo.”

  Bootstrap’s expression hardened. “I can cleanse it, but I will need time to observe the mana signature and draw a circle. Astra, keep an eye on him.”

  “No,” Eadrich countered, swaying slightly as the curse began to take hold. “A simple cleansing spell will backfire. This curse is rooted in the environment. We will need arcane magic to track and dispel the curse. We must find its source and destroy it.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that while we’re being incapacitated?” Bootstrap growled.

  Eadrich grimaced, swaying slightly as the curse began to take hold. “I… I know this curse. It is tied to a magic plant. There is a cursed seedling nearby. Destroy it, and the curse will break.”

  Bootstrap and Eadrich both collapsed moments later, their breaths shallow as the curse overtook them. Astra, unaffected, knelt between them, panic rising. Both men had told him what to do, but who could he trust?

  “Wake me first,” Eadrich had said, “so I can pinpoint the seedling.”

  “Trust me, Astra,” Bootstrap had said, his voice steady. “I’ll protect you. We need to work together to get out.”

  The voice whispered again, Bootstrap lies as all men do. Does he trust you? He knows the truth. Abandon them there and seek the truth.

  Astra’s hands trembled as he stared at the two unconscious men, each embodying a different path forward. The weight of his decision pressed down on him as the cursed forest seemed to close in, the malevolent whispers growing louder.

  What if the voice is right? I can’t trust either of them, but I have a feeling Eadrich does know more about this forest than Bootstrap right now.

  Bootstrap could cleanse the curse, but Eadrich knew it. He’d recognized the magic immediately. He’d said he could lead Astra to the source and end it for good.

  And that was what Astra needed right now, action. He needed to do something, anything, to break free from the choking fog of doubt.

  “Okay,” he murmured to himself, trying to steady his breathing. “Okay. I’ll wake Eadrich.”

  Astra reached for the smelling salts Bootstrap had in his bag. His hands trembled as he uncorked the vial, the sharp scent stinging his nose. But still, he hesitated.

  What if the voice was right? What if this was a mistake?

  The thought gnawed at him, but he forced himself to push it aside. I don’t know if I can trust Bootstrap. I don’t know if I can trust Eadrich. Hell, I don’t know if I can even trust myself. But right now, Eadrich is my best shot at breaking this curse.

  With a determined nod, Astra pressed the vial under Eadrich’s nose.

  “Please,” Astra whispered, his voice shaking. “Please let this be the right choice.”

  Eadrich woke with a sharp gasp, his body jerking upright as if pulled by invisible strings. His eyes darted around the dense forest before landing on Astra. “Thank you, Astra,” he said, his voice steady despite the strain laced in his words.

  Astra nodded, helping Eadrich to his feet. “What now? How do we stop this thing?”

  “As an arcane mage, I can sense the mana in the natural world,” Eadrich explained, his tone formal and clipped as he composed himself. “It is faint, but I can trace the source of the curse. The plant must be nearby.” He turned and began to walk, his steps measured but unsteady.

  Astra followed closely, gripping Eadrich’s arm occasionally to steady him. The oppressive silence of the forest pressed in on them, broken only by the rustle of leaves underfoot.

  After some time, Eadrich slowed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows. His breath hitched. “The plant… it is close,” he rasped, his fingers twitching as he conjured a small pulse of arcane energy. The ground glowed faintly beneath them, guiding their gaze deeper into the forest. “There!” He pointed, his arm trembling.

  Astra squinted in the direction Eadrich indicated, his heart sinking as the glow revealed massive, writhing vines that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. The cursed plant loomed ahead like a nightmare made flesh.

  “Can you destroy it?” Astra asked, gripping Eadrich’s arm as he swayed on his feet.

  Eadrich thought for a minute then shook his head, swaying. “I seems I can locate it, but if I use too much magic, I’ll…” He slumped against a tree, fighting to stay awake. “This might be too hard to fight by myself... His words trailed off as he slumped against a tree, his breaths shallow. “This curse is… more potent than I anticipated.”

  He looked up at Astra, his face etched with reluctance. “We might need your friend’s help to stop this for I cannot do it alone.”

  The voice entered his head again. “What if you are the one who is asleep and all of this is just a dream. There is only one way to find out. When people die in there dreams they wake up.”

  The voice was making Astra feel even more confused than he already was.

  Astra’s stomach churned with guilt as he glanced back toward Bootstrap, still unconscious on the forest floor. With a heavy sigh, he dug into Bootstrap’s bag and pulled out the familiar vial of smelling salts.

  Kneeling beside Bootstrap, Astra uncorked the vial and held it under his mentor’s nose. A moment later, Bootstrap jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his eyes darting wildly until they landed on Astra.

  “Astra!” Bootstrap exclaimed, relief washing over his features. Without hesitation, he pulled Astra into a firm hug. “You’re okay. Thank goodness.”

  Astra stiffened, the weight of his earlier decision gnawing at him. He returned the hug hesitantly, his guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

  “Time is of the essence. We need to cleanse our mana…” Bootstrap’s voice trailed off as he saw Eadrich standing in the distance watching them.

  Bootstrap pulled back, his gaze softening. His expression grew unreadable for a moment before he patted Astra’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said gently. “You made a call. I trust you, Astra. We’ll figure this out together. Now, let me in on what has happened so far.”

  Relief swept through Astra as he nodded. “We found the cursed plant, but the curse is too strong for Eadrich to fight alone. He says it’s drawing mana from the magic we use around it, and if he casted magic near it, he would be put to sleep before he could stop the plant. It ”

  Bootstrap’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. “The plant must be using the curse as a defense mechanism, feeding on unsuspecting prey who uses magic near it. Clever.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll need a sigil to reverse the curse, but it’ll need to be placed directly on the plant’s core.”

  Eadrich, still leaning against the tree, added, “I will imbue one of my cards with a dispersal spell to target the cursed seed within the plant once your sigil reverse the curse back into the plant.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small deck of cards with shaking hands. “However, Astra… you must deliver as no one else here can get close for long.”

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  Together they came up with the plan for Astra, who was immune to the curse since he has never casted magic before, to go and draw the sigil around the plant and placed the card on the plant.

  They followed the glowing path on the ground placed by Eadrich to the cursed plant. The plant loomed ahead, its massive vines writhing as if alive. The air around it shimmered with an unnatural heat.

  Eadrich cast one last spell, activating a deck of cards with a powerful dispersal spell. “Use these,” he said, handing them to Astra. “Place them at the plant’s core. But… be careful. The vines…” His eyes fluttered closed as he succumbed to the curse again.

  Bootstrap caught Eadrich as he slumped backwards. Dropping the monk on the floor, he said, “The curse is especially strong here around the plant. I can grasp a better understanding of the curse from here with its potency being this high.”

  Bootstrap handed Astra a piece of paper with the sigil drawn on it. “Be careful of the vines, we have no idea if there are more magic on them or not. Be fast but don’t forget the picture of the sigil I need you to draw on the ground. I’ll guide you from here. You got this.”

  Astra steeled himself, clutching the cards and the sigil diagram. The plant’s vines lashed out, nearly taking his head off as he ducked. He dodged and weaved, his heart hammering as he closed the distance. He started to draw the sigil with a marker Bootstrap gave him. The voice whispered again, urging him to abandon Bootstrap and save himself, but Astra pushed it aside knowing now that Bootstrap would never do that to him.

  Just as he reached the plant’s core, a vine whipped toward him. He braced for impact, but a blur of motion intercepted it. Bootstrap, bleeding from fresh wounds, held the vine back with one arm.

  The voice yelled in Astra’s head. “You are useless. You can’t do anything by yourself. This is why all your foster parents hated you. That is why your parents left you. Just give up, give up already!”

  “Finish it, Astra!” Bootstrap shouted, his voice strained. “You can do this! I have your back.”

  Bootstrap’s voice broke through the brain fog the sinister voice was putting Astra’s brain through.

  “But, if you cast any magic in here you will fall asleep,” Astra shouted back, trying his best to ignore the loud nagging voice in his head.

  Bootstrap braced against the vine as another one whipped out to attack him. “Don’t worry about me. Finish the sigil.”

  With tears in his eyes, Astra hastily drew the rest of the sigil Bootstrap had described, placing the cards at its center. The plant was an eerie shade of gray and green and as Astra looked at it, the plant looked back with its one eye. Then, Astra ran towards Bootstrap pulling him out from under the vines. Once Astra was out of range, Bootstrap mustered up enough magic to activate the magic circle on the ground succumbing to the sleeping curse.

  The sigil blazed to life with a searing burst of light, its energy slicing through the cursed air like a blade. The monstrous plant screeched as its vines thrashed wildly, and it disintegrated in a shower of sparks and gusts of wind. The oppressive atmosphere lifted, leaving the forest eerily still.

  “You are destined to be alone. Destined to cause death and destruction…" The voice died slowly as it grew quieter and quieter until Astra could no longer hear the incessant whining. Slowly, the cursed magic dissipated, and both Eadrich and Bootstrap stirred as the spell’s grip on them faded.

  Astra stumbled toward Bootstrap first, his legs still shaky from the ordeal. Dropping to his knees, he fumbled with a bandage from Bootstrap’s pack. “Come on, Boots. Don’t leave me hanging now,” Astra muttered as he worked to bind the wounds the vines had left behind. “Please, don’t let this be some magical eternal sleep. Oh gods.”

  Astra nudged Bootstrap a couple more time to no avail.

  Astra knelt beside him, not giving up and starting to bandage Bootstrap’s wounds. After a minute Bootstrap stirred then slowly, twitching finger by twitching fingers, he regained consciousness. Bootstrap looking at Astra, gave him a knowing smile. “I see… you’re getting better at first aid,” he croaked, his voice tinged with humor despite his exhaustion. He winced slightly as Astra tightened the bandage.

  “I had a good teacher,” Astra replied with a laugh, relief washing over him as Bootstrap regained more of his strength.

  Bootstrap’s gaze softened, and he raised a hand to Astra’s shoulder. “I understand why you chose Eadrich first,” he said, his tone quiet but steady. “Just promise me… when it really matters, you’ll trust me.”

  Astra looked away, guilt flickering across his face before he smiled back at Bootstrap. “I promise. I’ll trust you from now on. Its just, I’m, like, so used to looking out for myself first. I’m so sorry.”

  Bootstrap gave Astra a reassuring smile. “Then it seems I must demonstrate what it truly means to have someone stand beside you, to have your back, no matter the storm.”

  Having a renewed sense of self and awareness, Astra stood and turned toward the still unconscious Eadrich. His eyes narrowed as conflicting thoughts swirled in his mind. “But do I even wake him up? He did try to kill us.”

  Bootstrap sighed, propping himself up with visible effort. “We should. He owes us answers. Besides, he might prove useful if we can get him to see things our way.”

  With a reluctant nod, Astra walked over to Eadrich and used the remaining smelling salts to rouse him. The monk jolted awake, his sharp eyes darting around before landing on Astra. For a moment, his gaze softened, and he gave a faint nod. “You two… you are something else,” Eadrich said, his formal tone carrying a rare hint of approval. He stood, brushing leaves and dirt off his robe with meticulous precision. “Now, let us leave this accursed forest before it claims another victim.”

  As they began their cautious journey out of the forest, Astra couldn’t hold back his curiosity. Falling into step beside Eadrich, he glanced at the monk. “Umm, hey Eadrich. What’s your deal anyway? How come you are working for the Shadow Garden?”

  Eadrich sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of decades. “That is a long story,” he said, his tone measured. “But I suppose I owe you something for saving me back there.”

  “Well,” Astra said with a shrug, “we’ve got a long walk ahead of us. I mean, might as well pass the time.”

  Eadrich nodded, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked. “To start, I will concede that humanity may bear more fault than the stories often admit. Perhaps we were in the wrong in those ancient times. But should we not strive to rectify our mistakes? Even if the methods are less than moral, is it not worth pursuing a greater good?” He glanced at Astra, his intelligent eyes searching for understanding. “I still believe resetting the world is the best course of action.”

  Bootstrap, walking a few paces ahead, scoffed without turning around. “Humans are at fault. That much is clear. There are still old poems about what happened, even though all the monuments and statues to the primordial gods were destroyed. You’d think someone would’ve learned by now.”

  “Hold on,” Astra interjected, his tone sharp. “You’ve got a family, don’t you? I saw your son. You probably have a wife, too. How can you talk about resetting the world like it’s no big deal? That’s messed up.”

  Eadrich’s jaw tightened, his composure faltering for a moment. “My son… he would be better off in a world free from this corruption,” he said quietly, his voice strained but resolute. “As for my wife…” He paused, his eyes briefly clouded with pain. “She is no longer with us. But I believe she would have agreed. She would have done the same.”

  “Astra slowed his pace, processing Eadrich’s words. “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “How can you talk about your family like that? Like they’re just… pieces in some plan.”

  Eadrich’s expression hardened, though his voice remained calm. “Sometimes, to save what you love, you must be willing to sacrifice everything even your own attachments.”

  Bootstrap, still walking ahead, glanced over his shoulder. “Spoken like a man who’s given up.” His voice was calm, but his words carried an edge. “Resetting the world won’t erase the pain, Eadrich. It’ll just create new scars.”

  Eadrich thought about it for a bit, then decided someone out there should at least know his story. “If you must know, I will tell you my story though it is tiresome for me to talk about.”

  “I was born to a great warrior family, but I was not always a warrior. I was born more frail than most boys in my clan. I was born with a heart defect the doctors all claim was going to be my undoing. So once my parents saw that, they decided to name me Eadrich which meant wealthy monarch as a kind of prayer to their god to allow me to have a good avenue in life. My parents thought if I was not meant to be a fighter, then I might as well be a rich academic. I grew up spending more time indoors reading and learning about the world instead of playing outside. I had no problems with that since books were more fun than anyone my age at the time anyway. So naturally, as I grew up I wanted to become a monk in the great arcane temple of Kukulkan. I heard they made decent money and had great respects in the village. Truthfully, there was something about the appeal of arcane magic that drew me in. The magic seemed to speak to me. There, I dedicated many years of my youth learning and training in the art of arcane magic. My parents were proud of me, and I thought that was all there was to life. In my small world, what else did I need?

  Life had a funny way of moving our story along though. That was when I met her. The one who changed my life. Izel. The day she walked into the temple, the world shifted on its axis. Time seemed to slow as she approached the prayer room I was manning. Her presence filled the space, driving all other thoughts from my mind. In that moment, I knew my life would never be the same.

  As she drew near, I was struck by her beauty, her long, sleek black hair cascading over her shoulders, her hazel eyes captivating and full of warmth. Her figure and even her aura was warm and gentle against the morning sun. But it wasn’t just her appearance that enthralled me. There was a kindness in her smile, a gentleness in her voice that spoke to my very soul.

  She had walked up to me to ask me to show her how to pray for one of her sick family member. However, all I could think about was her perfect long sleek black hair, flawless face and captivating hazel eyes. After nearly fumbling this chance to talk to her, I showed her around the temple and taught her the sacred prayer to Kukulkan. It was a simple process, but I made sure to take my time explaining everything to her. I felt a connection forming between us, delicate yet undeniable. Eventually, that family member miraculously got better even healthier than when they were at their prime. She was overwhelmingly appreciative of me for helping her through that hard time. After this, she would come quite often either to pray for more family members or just the country in general.

  She was from a prominent family which would never usually be associated with my warrior family, but there she was. We lived in two totally different worlds. While she learned how to deal with political affairs of the country, I was dealing with smaller everyday problems. She was also such a kind soul which made me so baffled when she asked to see me outside of the temple. In the days and weeks that followed, Izel became my sun, and I, a planet caught in her orbit. Each visit to the temple was a gift, a chance to bask in her radiance. When she asked to see me outside the temple walls, my heart soared. To learn she felt the same way about me, it was like catching lightning in a bottle, a miracle I never thought possible.

  She had opened my eyes to more of the outside world. She took me outside the village and showed me how to fully appreciate the beauty of nature. In return, I took her inside the temple and showed her how to appreciate the beauty of the world’s magic. Our love blossomed like a rare and precious flower, nurtured by shared moments of joy and wonder. Time flew by when I was with her. Within a few years, we were married and wanted to start a family. Sadly, we were having difficulties conceiving a baby. The doctors all said that she was not destined to be a mother. Well, Izel had other plans. She was having a baby whether the heavens allowed it or not. Her determination was one of her best quality. Eventually we had a miracle, a beautiful baby boy. When I first laid eyes on him I could not help but see that I held the entirety of my world in my arms. His tiny fingers, his squishy nose, and those beautiful hazel eyes. They were just like his mother’s. We named him Tadeas because he felt like a true gift from god. However, it wasn’t all flowers and rainbows. I knew my son was born a bit special, but I did not expected him to have that many health problems. I could not help but think it was my fault that he was born fragile. I was the same way when I was born. One day he grew sick, sicker than he had ever been before, and he just could not shake it. We fought tirelessly for our son, exhausting every option. We had tried everything from medicine to magic. Nothing worked.

  Out of desperation, we tried a prayer to Kukulkan just like when we prayed for Izel’s family member on that first day. This time it costed us almost everything. The temple claimed that Kukulkan required gold, more gold than we had at the time. My job did not bring home a lot of gold. I always thought that gold was not the point of my job so I never thought about trying to ask for more. I felt like I failed my family. Izel did not see it that way. Izel, determined to not let anything happen to her baby, sold everything she owned to get the gold. To her money had always just been a means to an end. She did not need money in her life to be happy. Kukulkan must have been happy because the next day, our baby boy was all smiles and sunshine. That is the thing with gods though. They are never truly satisfied.

  Within weeks, our baby boy was sick again with seemingly the same illness. It was like a curse from god. Maybe it was all a punishment from god. It was a cruel fate. We went back to Kukulkan. He helped us before so why not try again. However, this time he demanded a human sacrifice. My world seemed to have shattered before my eyes. A life for a life… Oh, the irony of my life. How could I decide who I loved more. What sane person would chose between the two love of their life. The thought of losing either of them was unbearable. So I decided, I would go perform the ritual when Izel was busy attending to our baby. Little did I know, Izel was one step ahead of me.

  Izel… my brilliant, brave and beautiful Izel… she was one step ahead.

  She always was. That was the kind of person she was. Behind her beautiful facade was a warrior who was always ready to fight for what she wanted. The moment I returned home and saw Tadeas sleeping peacefully alone, a sense of dread washed over me. It was a feel that is hard to describe in words. The note by his rocker confirmed my worst fears. In an instant, my world imploded. The bottomless pit opened beneath my feet swallowed me whole, leaving nothing but an aching void where my heart once beat. God knows, I never recovered from the shock of that moment. My sweet shooting star. She burned so bright, she fizzled out before her time… She was gone, leaving behind only memories and a sleeping child who would never know the depth of his mother’s love and sacrifice. It was supposed to be me…

  It was Kukulkan. He did this. The shock of that moment has never left me. The pain, the guilt, the rage, they have become my constant companions. Kukulkan may have granted our prayers, but at what cost? Did he even grant our prayers? Was it all a twisted game for him? He took my Izel, my everything. And for that, I vow he will pay. He was a lesser god, and he knew his power was weakening so he did whatever he could to get all the magic from as many human sacrifices he could. So, it was an easy decision when Shadow Garden showed up a year later telling me I could wield the power to kill gods and redo any regrets I had. It was an easy decision and I would have made the same decision again.”

  Eadrich ended his story with a far off stare that showed all the lost and regret that he normally hid.

  It was like even the universe was waiting to see if someone could speak up in that moment. After an uncomfortably long moment of silence, Astra spoke, “Well, let’s see. I think that there is no way that your wife would have wanted you to go down this path. To abandon everything she sacrificed her life for and to deny her a meaningful death.”

  “I mean, I get where you are coming from now, but this anger and resentment that you hold on to even after knowing her intentions mean that deep down you have still not forgiven yourself for hesitating when she did not,” Astra continued.

  For a moment, Eadrich didn’t respond. His silence was heavy, suffocating. Astra shifted uncomfortably, his stomach churning with the weight of his own words. He wanted to believe he was right, but doubt gnawed at him.

  What if I’d been in Eadrich’s place? Would I have been strong enough to choose differently? Astra thought.

  Eadrich’s lips parted to reply, but he hesitated again. A flicker of pain crossed his face before he finally spoke, his tone sharp and defensive. “I do not know what I believe anymore. But sadly, she is gone. She does not get a voice in this matter now; that is the thing about leaving. Maybe if she…”

  “Do you even hear yourself?” Astra snapped, cutting him off, his eyes blazing. “Are you seriously starting to blame her for all this? You’ve gone so far down this road you can’t even see it. You’ve become the very thing you despise. You’re trying to play god!”

  The words struck Eadrich like a thunderclap. His face flushed a deep crimson, his body stiffening as though bracing against a storm. For a moment, he looked like he might explode, his fists clenched at his sides. But then, slowly, he exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he forced a semblance of calm. The tension in his jaw betrayed the turmoil he still wrestled with. “You are trying to play god.” The words clawed at him. These spoken words had knocked something loose in the solid walls that he built in his mind. Eadrich’s voice lowered, barely audible. “Playing god? No. I was just trying to stop a world that has forgotten how to save itself.”

  Astra took a step closer, his voice cutting through the stillness. “And how do you think that’s going to end, Eadrich? You can’t fix this by destroying everything and starting over. That’s not saving anything. That’s running away.”

  Eadrich’s eyes snapped up, his usual scholarly composure replaced by a flicker of desperation. “You will not convince me to stop,” he said, his voice gaining strength, though it quivered at the edges. “I have a duty to Shadow Garden, a promise to fulfill.”

  With a ghastly expression, he reached into his sleeve, retrieving a concealed card. “I will let you and the Wanderer off this time for what you have done for me, but do not think that this is over.”

  The card began to glow, and Astra instinctively took a step back. Eadrich’s gaze lingered on him for a fleeting second, unreadable, before he activated the card. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he added, “Oh, and one more parting gift. They are tracking you through the mosquito bio-tracker in your neck.”

  With a puff of smoke and a shimmer of arcane energy, Eadrich disappeared, leaving Astra and Bootstrap standing in the now-silent clearing.

  Bootstrap stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he placed a steadying hand on Astra’s shoulder. “Let him go,” he said quietly, his tone calm but deliberate, each word chosen with care. “Something tells me we’ll cross paths with him again, one way or another. For now, we have bigger concerns.”

  Astra looked up at him, guilt and frustration swirling in his eyes. “But what if he’s right?” he asked softly. “What if we really can’t fix this? Are we even trying to fix the world?”

  Bootstrap’s gaze softened, and he offered a small, reassuring smile. “Doubt is a sign you’re asking the right questions. Keep asking them, Astra. But don’t let the weight of the world keep you from moving forward.”

  “Besides, we’ve reached the outskirts of town. If we’re to be prepared for the next confrontation, we’ll need to procure some materials.”

  Together, they made their way out, the whispers and shadows of the forest finally silenced. But Astra couldn’t shake the feeling their journey was far from over. The weight of what he had learned pressed on his mind, but for now, he walked forward, holding on to the hope they could still make things right.