Chapter 13

  Through salvation, they will find peace and you will be the shepherd that takes them from their uncaring and cruel god.

  -Book of the Father, first page

  Charon stood at the bank of the river, staring within. The rushing water did not give him sight at what lay beneath, though it did give him a murky mirror to see himself. His uniform was covered in dirt and a beard had begun to grow out without a razor to shave with. The most notable change, however, was how his eyes had changed from a pure sapphire blue to a blue-green ocean. He hardly had paid it any mind and with a quick switch to his soul sight the world darkened around him save for schools of glowing orbs of white swimming beneath the surface of the water. He lifted a branch in his hand, the other sliding across the surface while transferring vitae into it. The branch smoothed into a sharp point, the branches folding into the rest of the wood like clay. He let go of the branch and it continued to float in mid-air. Then with a flick of his wrist downwards the makeshift spear stabbed through the water and retreated back with a jerk of his hand with a wriggling fish at the end of it. He could have just sapped its vitae and pulled it out of the water himself, but he learned on the first day that the fish tasted absolutely disgusting if he did that.

  A fire was already waiting behind him and with another gesture the spear floated over beside it. He walked over, finishing off the fish and spearing through with a makeshift spit, letting it sit over the fire and begin to cook. Around him, the once vibrant jungle had been cleared away and a makeshift shelter had been set up nearby made out of solid wood. It turned out, being able to manipulate dead matter was great for construction. When he initially had come out here, he was sure he would have to set up some makeshift tent out of tree leaves, but vitaemancy had practically eliminated any problems he thought he might have while he was out here. He was sure that by the end of the month, he’d be able to return to Phaidros with his head held high. With a content sigh he sat down by the fire in a makeshift chair, watching the fish cook. Beside him, his knife remained planted into the ground containing Exaltation. Charon watched the fire idly before thinking aloud, “I need armor if I’m going to fight.”

  It is dangerous for you to return to the city as you are. Suneater will notice.

  The knife rumbled beside him. “I know,” Charon said with another sigh, “So, what I’m thinking is that there’s a cave system nearby that stretches down to the ruin layer. So I can get some of the chitin off of the insects there and make armor off of that.”

  The knife rumbled again in thoughtful contemplation before Exaltation spoke.

  They who skitter in the dark could be of assistance, but to keep the armor going you would need to constantly feed it vitae and it wouldn’t provide you the physical benefits that the Ignited have in their armor because of the powered systems beneath the chitin. You would have armor that regrew itself and that you could mold, nothing more.

  Charon mused on the idea for a little longer. That didn’t sound completely useless, but if it was going to require even more vitae, he wasn’t sure how viable it was for his short-term goals. If he was careful with how he stole vitae from the jungle around him, it could work though. If the monster had attacked the city however… He stopped the thought before it continued, shaking his head. “Well I can’t just go in there in my uniform, one wrong step and it’ll tear me to pieces.”

  You do not need armor when the jungle around you is yours to command. Let it tear you to pieces after it has cleaved through legions of your puppets.

  There they went on about the reanimation again. Even after a week, Charon didn’t feel comfortable using the power, it had too many moral implications behind it that he would rather not think about. The other powers were useful enough but Exaltation did make a point, it was tremendously useful—if it wouldn’t make Suneater banish him on the spot or worse. Would that be worth it? If it meant he got to save his brother? The fish had finished cooking and he pulled it off the fire, idly twirling the ends of the stick in his hands in thought. His brow furrowed, Phaidros surely would be saying that he was doing all of this for Charon, but was Charon doing all of this for Phaidros? He wasn’t entirely convinced. Cindering had ruined his life and he was already beginning to see how his brother treated him differently, the same way everyone else had treated him. He didn’t want to save them for their sake, he wanted to save them because then he’d prove to them that even while cindered he was still stronger than any of them and they should feel ashamed for looking down on him all this time. He took a single bite of the fish before pausing as the trees nearby rustled.

  Someone approaches.

  This was all the warning Charon got before an armored figure came stalking out of the edge of the jungle. They were alone, but Charon knew that the Ignited here on Dasos rarely traveled alone. He pushed himself to his feet, fish discarded. His thoughts raced, the stolen vitae helping keep them from lagging behind. Two clicks from the armored figure confirmed Charon’s theory, there were more Ignited nearby. With a flex of his will he switched to his soul sight, seeing the ball of light in front of him burn and seeing two more burning light motes scattered in the jungle out of immediate sight. He kept his eyes locked on the armored figure. The ridges of the armor were somewhat familiar to him; the last time he had seen it was when it was dark, they were one of the Ignited that had initially questioned him about the “meteor” that fell a week ago.

  They switched to open communications, their tinny voice calling out to Charon. “You are far from Dasos, cindered one.” They looked around at the clearing and the dead trees—and then at the small shack that sat proudly behind Charon. “Is there someone else here with you?”

  Charon was giving himself a thousand different curses in his head. Of course he would be found out, of course the Ignited would have inevitably found him here especially after boldly making a campfire in the middle of the jungle. This was bound to happen but Charon was hoping he’d have at least another week. He began to speak, hoping he could somehow make this situation better. “No, it’s just me. I am out here training.”

  Charon assumed then that the Ignited was making a quick life sense of the area, finding that he was correct. “It would be safer for you to train under the guidance of Suneater and reigniting your soul, out here you risk falling prey to the Shaped Beast your brother is supposed to be killing.” He did a double take as his gaze stared right at Charon’s chest. “Your potential…” he began, voice trailing off.

  Charon seized the opportunity. “I’ve managed to grow some back out here by forcing myself into the dangers of the jungle.”

  The Ignited considered in silence before he looked back at the house again. “And you built a house in the meantime, in less than a week. You are quite the crafter, cindered one.” Charon tensed, these lines of questions were not working out in his favor. He couldn’t just say he had been working on it for far longer, it was abundantly clear beforehand how much he struggled to even walk. “And you stood up rather quickly when you saw me approach and I haven’t even seen your cane,” the Ignited continued, stepping further into the clearing. “So please, tell me more of this training you’ve taken part in that has allowed you to recover so quickly.”

  “What does it matter to you?” Charon said, his heart beating faster.

  “Suneater gave me a commission to find the falling star, just as before. When my party and I could not find it the initial night, they said to look out for suspicious, wilting foliage and beasts. Then I come into the clearing here now and see that a good nine hundred square feet of jungle has been cleared by one, lone Cindered. One who also managed to build a house in the same time and has new potential lingering around their soul. I could see how someone with a devour identity might be able to recreate this but you? No. You may see why I am suspicious.”

  Charon set his jaw. Off to the side, his knife rumbled.

  Do not let them take the book.

  The subtle movement was noticed by the Ignited, whose enhanced vision and his suit systems most likely showed him the knife as it vibrated from the power of Exaltation’s voice. They stepped over to the knife. “Stay there,” they commanded and they knelt down and pulled the knife from the ground, inspecting it. Charon tried desperately not to inch his way towards the house and his mind couldn’t help but point out how now the Ignited was between him and the river. All it would take was one good surge of his power and the man would be sent into the flowing water. The fish were voracious enough to probably distract him for a good few seconds—but then there were the other two waiting in the jungle. The Ignited looked back to him from the knife after finding nothing of interest. “So, where is it?”

  “It?” Charon asked.

  “Don’t play stupid with me,” the Ignited hissed, pointing the knife at him. He then idly flipped it in his hands as he stood upright again. “Something fell from the sky and you took it with you that night. That can be the only explanation for all of this.” He gestured with the knife around the two of them, pointing out the dead foliage. “Nothing close to winter on this world to make them start dying, it is not in season for the sapper locusts to emerge for another two years and there are no Shaped on the planet with an identity that could do such a thing save for the Suneater themselves. This on top of the suspicious house that’s behind you. So please do not continue to waste my time, or this friendly chat will start to become a lot less friendly.” A click from his helmet followed and his two companions made themselves known, one, a drasil from what Charon could tell based on the bark-like ridges on their armor, perched atop a tree with an arrow nocked in an intricate-looking bow and the other resting a twin headed axe atop their shoulder, etchings in their armor marking them as someone from ikaroa heritage.

  They were trying to intimidate him. He knew one wrong twitch would end very badly for him. The leader could probably lodge that knife into his throat before he could finish saying “burn to ash,” and thus he tried, carefully, to de-escalate the situation. “There is no need for that, I am Cindered, you all could break me a hundred different ways and I’d be powerless to stop it.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He heard clicks coming from one of the other Ignited and the leader stepped in close, looming over him. They flipped the knife over and held it out to him hilt first. “You are still our duty to protect, cindered one, though that might mean saving you from yourself and whatever danger has Suneater scouring the jungle for you. Where is it?” he asked again, more insistent this time.

  Charon did not shrink before him, despite every fiber of his being wishing to cower like a shamed pup. There was no way out of this, he realized and defeat slowly creeped into his mind. His shoulders slumped and a frown crept onto him. His teal eyes looked up to meet the visor of the looming Ignited. “What will happen to me?”

  “That is up to the Suneater to decide, but I am sure the punishment will be based on the severity of what you’re hiding from us.”

  Charon hesitated, opening his mouth once before closing it and pondering further. “It’s… in the house, in my bag under the cot.”

  What are you doing?

  His knife rumbled, but he kept a firm grip on it. Even when Exaltation seemed bewildered they still sounded like they were exalting some God. There were some clicks shared between the party before the ikaroa stalked over past the two to head into his makeshift house while the archer remained behind with their arrow nocked but not drawn. Charon hung his head.

  Think about what you’re doing, Charon, what you are giving up and what you are returning to should you allow Suneater to take the book. You will be Cindered once more, barely alive, barely dead. Your brother will keep moving ahead while you are stuck in purgatory; do you truly believe that he will not look at you the same way these three look at you now?

  The knife began to rumble a little too much that a small tone emanated from it. Charon dropped the knife before the others took it as a threat. Exaltation’s words made him tense further.

  Life will move on without you, your brother moving to greater deeds beyond this world with you being left behind, alone, forever a stain on the legacy of the Ignited and your father.

  Charon’s fists clenched and the leader of the Ignited glanced down to the knife still vibrating on the ground. Phaidros wouldn’t leave him, no matter what happened he knew he wouldn’t be left behind… right? He thought back to the last time he spoke to Phaidros. He had told Charon that he couldn’t wait for him. This was only the beginning… and possibly end of Phaidros’ journey. If he succeeded, how many more times would Charon have to hear ‘I can’t wait for you’, or would his failure to catch up be what led to Phaidros’ death? No one else could help him. No one else would help him. It had to be Charon. It had to be.

  You have read all but the rituals, Charon, use your power and you will be able to defeat three faltering Ignited on this backwater world.

  A few clicks came from inside the house and the leader looked from the knife to the house.

  Charon took in a deep breath and drank the vitae around him. It started with the trees just beyond the perimeter, the fish in the river, and then swept inwards towards the three ignited presences around him. The feeling of the ignited vitae mingling with his own stolen felt like hot irons against his chest and he screamed in pain. The two Ignited he could see suddenly stumbled as if struck with sudden breathlessness. Charon could not drain them completely, but now he surged with vitae. He had cried out in pain so they wouldn’t immediately suspect him, which gave him one second of opportunity which he intended to make use of. He drew his hand back as he stumbled in mirror of them. In that motion he poured his vitae into the earth beneath him, feeling it as an extension of himself before he thrust his hand forward. A single pillar of earth shot from the ground and slammed into the Ignited across from him and he heard the crack of plates as the man was sent sailing through the air. The leader tried to activate his jets but couldn’t reorient himself before he hit the water with a splash.

  There was no turning back now. Charon had been Ignited before and he knew how these teams would fight in coordinated strikes. Charon had caught his footing and was already wheeling his arm towards the archer as they drew back an arrow. His vitae flowed into the arrow itself right as it fired. Behind him the axeman came crashing through the wall of his house. The arrow flew but with a duck and quick flex of his will, the arrow curved and slammed into the approaching Ignited’s neck between the plates with the force of a bullet hammered into an armor’s weak spot. The force of the impact knocked them off course and made the axe swing barely miss Charon. The wind shear that followed knocked him off his feet anyways but the second he hit the ground he pushed out more vitae and made the section of earth beneath him shoot up into the air and launch him skyward. He reached out for the spear he had made earlier and it flew towards him before he caught it in the air and hung by it. Vitaemancy was truly incredible, he thought, but now was not the time to revel in victory that hadn’t happened yet.

  He still had plenty of vitae but the Ignited below were regrouping. The ikaroa was pulling the arrow from their neck with the archer running up to try and assist them while the leader managed to throw themselves out of the river into a run. They still had the book. An idea formed in his head as he pulled himself atop the hovering branch and balanced upon it on his feet. It felt odd, as if he was standing on top of a second pair of hands. Once he caught his bearings he willed the branch down low, careful of his balance before he swooped down into a dive, riding the spear like a board as he swung around the edge of the clearing, extending his will as he passed, the ground around them raised, walling off the group from escape. He could hear panicked clicking coming from the three and he had better sight of what the leader had been going for, his knife. They reached it just as the archer was preparing to take another shot. They didn’t learn did they?

  Still, with explosive force two projectiles were launched at him but he had already filled them with his vitae and yanked them to either side. They were too fast for him to fully swing them back into the Ignited and it still had some weight as if he were physically pulling at them. The motion made him nearly fall from his spear. He caught himself and with a roar of effort threw his hands forwards. The rising ground trailing behind him sped past him in dangerous spike formations and forced the Ignited to dash to either side and isolate their fallen comrade. Charon jumped off the spear, making it fly up into his grip as he charged at the Ignited struggling to get back to his feet. With a swift motion, he lodged the spear into the space the arrow had gone earlier and poured more vitae into the spear. The branch hardened and thinned as he willed it to become denser then shoved the power forward into the point. There was a creak of metal and chitin straining against the wood before a sickening crack was heard. There was no scream, no defiant cry, just silence as the ikaroa’s soul floated away as if it were a weightless feather.

  Charon let go of the spear and scrambled for the book; the man had it in the messenger bag still and tried to pull the whole bag off of him in his panic. A mistake and one that had two Ignited now standing on the spiny wall of earth he had created. “Get away from him!” the leader bellowed and descended upon him. Charon threw himself backwards just in time to miss the kick that cratered the earth where he just was. He willed the earth around them to twist and try and spear through the leader but with a well-aimed punch it crunched through the much thinner earth. The archer had learned their lesson and was moving to flank him. The element of surprise was gone. Options were running out and he was about to be surrounded. This was going to be the end unless—he gestured behind the leader and his vitae poured into the corpse of the ikaroa.

  He now saw through two sets of eyes as theirs snapped open. He could see the heads-up display of the armor flashing vital warnings but ignored them as with his new puppet, he pulled himself to his feet. Once more he was surprised at how easy it was to use this power, eerily so, as if being in two separate bodies were as easy as being in one. Charon had spent a lot of vitae, he could pull more but it would cause another surge of pain and that might not get him the same opportunity the last attempt had. He threw himself to the floor as attacks came from both sides, making both Ignited have to dodge each other to avoid cracking each other’s armor. Which was perfect, because it made the archer come straight into the path of the axe that was swinging for their shoulder. A startled series of clicks resonated out of the archer, Charon could only imagine what they must be thinking seeing the dead body of their friend attacking them. He tried not to let the thought get to him as he scrambled past towards the axe-wielding corpse who swung again. With the walls on either side of them, it gave the archer very little room to maneuver. They tried to leap over the wall to escape but Charon ordered a full charge and the axeman came crashing into them and made them hit the dirt with a heavy thud. They already had their axe over their head, and Charon willed them to drop it into the archer’s head.

  The leader would not let their companion die and came swooping in, bringing up both arms in a cross to block. The axe cracked and shattered the plates beneath it, biting into the metal beneath as sparks flew from the impact. Charon was safe for the moment, so once more he took a deep, painful breath, stealing more vitae from the two living Ignited. The pain that followed made him drop to his knees, but he could see it still affected his victims, making them shiver. It gave him the fuel needed to keep the puppet going and with another quick flex of his will, the immediate escape backwards closed. The metal creaked further as the axeman put all of their dead weight into their axe. The leader then dropped their guard, letting the axe slam into their chestplate as he reared back a punch and slammed it into the axeman’s head, then another, and another in quick, blurring succession.

  The puppet seemed completely uncaring of the damage even as it broke through chitin and steel to smash into its face as it brought its axe back again and swung it into the same spot, cleaving through chitin and steel to plant the axe straight into his heart and drop him on the ground. Another soul joined the others beginning to float into the air with the archer following suit seconds after.

  Charon was heaving breath in and out as he stared out of two sets of eyes. Even with its face bashed in, he still seemed to be able to see clearly. He pulled his vitae back from the axeman and they unceremoniously slumped to the floor. Silence followed and Charon could hear nothing else but his own breath and his own beating heart. Trembling hands gripped at his head as he slowly curled in on himself. He killed them. He killed them all. These were not annoying bugs, fish, or trees. These were Ignited, people he had lived with for most of his life and he killed them all so he didn’t have to go back to being Cindered again. Not only did he kill them, he used their corpses to kill each other. What would Phaidros think of him now? He couldn’t face him now. Not after this.

  His thoughts swirled down and down into the depths of horror as the weight of what just happened sank in. Tears stained the corners of his eyes and left clean streaks down his otherwise dirtied face. He had forgotten the knife that contained Exaltation, there was no way to find that now without scouring the jungle, but he needed to hear a voice, any voice, that would save him from his own thoughts. He crawled over to the river, makeshift spear in hand, and pricked his thumb, letting the blood drop into the water. Exaltation’s visage appeared a moment later, as if they were standing behind him in a reality beyond his own.

  You are still alive, child. We were worried for you.

  The surface of the water rippled as Exaltation spoke. Charon wasn’t sure why, but the pressure in his chest went away and he felt relieved. “Yeah, I’m alive,” he replied softly.

  And they are dead. We are sorry that it turned out this way, child. We are sure it is difficult to have to do such things to those who were once your allies.

  “I… don’t know what to do,” Charon said. “They won’t forgive this, they won’t forgive me. I hated them for how they treated me, but I… I know I had to kill them or else they’d know but…”

  Do not linger on what has happened. Your path has been set, child, and you have chosen the Father’s teachings over your God’s and look at the results.

  Charon glanced over his shoulder at the twisted landscape that had once been a dead clearing of jungle.

  We are proud of you, Charon. Despite your Cindering, you managed to defeat three armored Ignited. That is something even your God would praise if he were not a hypocritical and cruel creature.

  Exaltation’s words offered some comfort, even as he continued to cry. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear those words, and it made it easier for him to come to terms with what he had to do. Exaltation was right, he managed to defeat three Ignited as a Cindered. If the Exalted Sovereign did not recognize that then was he truly a god worth worshiping? The sadness in his heart gave way to bitterness but he shook away the thought. “I need to help my brother still, I can’t go back now but surely there must be a way.”

  If you return now, your power will be discovered and Suneater will not allow you a chance to leave. You will have to choose carefully a time to give assistance.

  “It’ll have to be the time of the hunt, I’ll have to keep a close eye on the jungle and the Shaped Beast’s territory. I’ll have to keep track of communications in the city as well.” He slowly glanced over to the three corpses, more importantly, their helmets. “I might have an idea…”