Chapter 20

  Strength alone does not make a person better. It is what they do with their strength that makes them who they are. Do not seek the most dangerous and most challenging prey to challenge your might. Seek out challenges of character, so that you may learn who you truly are.

  -Collected Teachings of the Exalted Sovereign

  It was not hard to catch Charon’s trail. Dozens of small footsteps and one set of large that left behind snapped twigs and branches made it clear to know where the runaway was going. Wherever it went, a trail of death followed. The vibrant color of the jungle was gone as they traveled, replaced only with shriveled trees and dead animals in its wake.

  Phaidros, Zenovia, and Dom moved at an easy pace, conserving their energy in case there was a fight ahead. They had stopped by the medbay to pick up some drasil fruit, a fruit made by the drasil that was like eating pure potential. It did not fill your own potential, but when eaten it smoothed away physical injuries. If you weren’t cindered, that is. If you were cindered, the fruit turned to ash in your hands. With it, Dom was walking normally and in pace with the others. Daxia had made what quick repairs she could before they left, wishing them luck on their journey.

  They had been walking since they left the city and night was upon them. The moon was in the sky and stars were peeking through the trees in a brilliant display, the smoke clouds of the galaxy’s edge billowing behind them. Phaidros had thought back to what Suneater had said about how the powers they were dealing with snuffed out the stars one by one. When he looked up, the stars seemed so vast and countless, it made him wonder what the sky must have looked like back then.

  “We should make camp,” Zenovia said, breaking the current silence between them all.

  “We do not have time to waste,” Dom replied.

  “If the worst comes to happen and we have to fight Charon, we should be in top shape. Your armor is still growing back.”

  “Yes but we will be giving him that much more time to prepare. Is this really a wise idea?” Both of the Ignited looked to Phaidros to decide.

  “Zenovia is right. We need your armor as repaired as possible,” Phaidros reasoned, making Dom scoff but then sigh, which was as much agreement as they’d get out of him.

  The three made a fire pit and easily found logs to sit upon as they rested around the crackling fire, their helmets off and faces exposed. Dom was the first to break the silence. “Little friend, I know we are going into this without much of a plan, do you really think you can get through to Charon? We should think about how we are going to do this.”

  Phaidros was busy looking at the fire, blade resting over his knees. He glanced at Dom, “I have to. I won’t hunt my brother, I have managed to calm him down before and I will just have to hope that I will be able to do so again.”

  “You have so much hope and belief in your brother, but he just desecrated several dozen corpses and the jungle itself,” Zenovia tried to reason.

  “He is scared and he has been tricked by the book, as Suneater explained. There is still redemption for him, I know it,” Phaidros said. “It is in the teachings of the Exalted Sovereign.”

  Dom hummed at that. “It is, yes. However, you also need to be aware that the person you are offering your hand to might just as well try to bite the hand that is picking it up and with that in mind.” He looked to Zenovia. “We both think that we should be prepared in case this goes wrong.”

  Phaidros sighed. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I think I should be posted farther away from the group where I can get a clean shot on Charon.” She lifted a finger, cutting off Phaidros before he could interject. “Just in case,” she clarified. “It would also give me a good vantage point to be able to spot any tricks he might have up his sleeve should he try to lure us into an ambush.”

  “And I will be close, like a bodyguard,” Dom said, grinning as he pounded his fist into his open palm. “It will intimidate him into listening to you.”

  “I don’t want to intimidate him, Dom,” Phaidros said in exasperation. “I think if I can get past all of his… guards… then you should stay behind. I don’t want him to think this is a hunt, I need him to know I’m there with good intentions.” That made Dom grumble but Phaidros soon added, “You’ll still be close by and if things go badly you’ll get plenty of obstacles to smash through on your way to get to me.”

  “Alright alright, at least I will be able to get some frustration vented out this trip,” Dom said with a nod.

  “This isn’t a game, Dom, this is even more serious than the Shaped Beast,” Zenovia snapped.

  “All of life is a game, just some people take it more seriously than others,” Dom replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  Phaidros sighed. “Oh leave him alone, Zenovia. I think Dom has earned a bad joke or two. He’s saved my life now.”

  “And I haven’t?” Zenovia huffed.

  “You have, but you’re not the one making bad jokes,” Phaidros said with a small grin. That managed to get a smirk out of Zenovia, which was a small victory in itself.

  “You should be,” Dom criticized, pointing at them both. “Your life could be over by tomorrow, you should be enjoying your potentially short life every day some monster doesn’t manage to skewer you,” he said with a grin. “Face death with a smile on your face and in your heart. Otherwise you give the enemy a satisfaction they do not deserve.”

  “That is why you’re smiling all the time?” Phaidros asked.

  “Yes! There is no point in improving yourself each and every day if you are stuck dour and sad all the time. Be merry, enjoy life! You only get one. Or maybe two if Charon gets his hands on you.” That one made Phaidros frown and in turn made Dom’s grin turn apologetic. “I am sorry that was a bit too far.”

  “No, it’s fine, I’m just nervous about tomorrow,” Phaidros said. “Sorry to ruin the mood.”

  “The mood was hardly ruined,” Zenovia assured. “This kind of talk is good before a big mission. Dom is right, somewhat, about the need for levity in times like this. It reminds us what we are fighting for, not just for the improvement of one’s self, but for life, and all of the joys that come with it. Allow yourself this moment to relax, it’ll make sure you’re focused in the trial ahead.”

  Phaidros nodded slowly, eyes turning back to the fire. He did feel a smile come to his face, somber, contemplative. “Thank you both again,” Phaidros said softly. “For coming with me on this journey. I would not be here without you both.”

  Dom nudged Phaidros’ shoulder with his elbow. “Think nothing of it, little friend. We are all in this together.”

  Zenovia nodded. “Of course. Though we should get to sleep soon. I’ll stay up longer to keep watch. Dom, I’ll wake you up halfway through the night so you can have the second.” The zhuk didn’t complain, only nodded. Phaidros was about to protest against not keeping watch but decided against it. He was going to be the most important part of this tomorrow; he assumed they meant to give him as much chance to rest as possible.

  The night passed without event or harassment by any creatures of the jungle. The usual ambiance, the buzzing insects, chirping birds, and rustling bushes were all gone. A heavy silence took its place, tension filling the air. The world knew something was about to happen to it and the trees sat as stiff as boards even in the distance beyond the trail of death the group had made camp in.

  Dom had awoken Phaidros at the first sign of light. The group prepared themselves for another march. It wasn’t long before they could see exactly where they needed to go. When they all used life sense to scout ahead, they saw an ocean of teal droplets of potential ahead of them. A patch of color amidst the usual blanket of white lights of the souls that filled the jungle.

  Phaidros looked to Zenovia and nodded. She unholstered her rifle and ran off out of sight while Dom stayed at Phaidros’ side. The two continued on, weapons at the ready as they scanned the dead jungle around them.

  “Are you ready for this, little friend?” Dom asked.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Phaidros answered. After another few moments the trees in front of them sprung into motion, the two immediately entering a fighting stance as they pulled their roots out of the ground like makeshift feet, looming over the two Ignited. “Wait!” Phaidros called out. “I wish to speak to Charon! It’s Phaidros.” He wasn’t even sure if the trees could hear or understand him, but they did stop when he spoke. They swayed lazily side to side, the groan of wood accompanying it as one of its branches bent towards him, the tip of it creakily pointing at Phaidros before it slowly turned and began to stomp off. When Phaidros didn’t immediately follow, it stopped and waited.

  Phaidros glanced to Dom, sharing a silent nod, before he followed after the tree, testing the grip of his sword in his hand. He was led past the other tree that watched Dom. When he switched perceptions again he saw teal droplets everywhere, like rain frozen in the air that touched every tree he could see. He switched to private communications and spoke to the group. “Zenovia.”

  “I know. I see it all. Nothing has stopped me yet. Maybe they’re just focused on you,” she replied, voice soft.

  “We can hope,” Phaidros answered back.

  “I am not liking this,” Dom said. “Be careful.”

  Phaidros didn’t respond, looking around him warily. After a few minutes of walking he was brought into a clearing, Charon pacing within it with a book in his hand, teeth gnawing at one of his gauntleted fingers. To one side of him was the once Shaped Beast, most of its wounds still visible. He could still feel its power urging him to cower, though it now radiated from Charon instead. Behind him were the people he had raised from the dead. Each of them had their limbs twisted into sharp bone weapons. It was a sea of expressionless, teal eyes staring at Phaidros that made his stomach churn. “Charon,” Phaidros began, “are you alright?” He reached up to take off his helmet, so he could look his brother in the eye.

  Charon looked up from the book to him, lips a thin line, suspicion in his bright, teal eyes. “You didn’t come alone,” two voices replied. “You are lucky we were able to see through these creations or else things would have gone bad quickly.”

  The change in Charon’s voice made Phaidros pause. There was something unnatural to it, like a lizard attempting to speak in time with Charon’s words. When he looked into Charon’s soul, he saw it had changed, the cracks were gone and he could see an imprint of eyes glaring at him from within what should have been a featureless, glowing white ball. Now was not the time to bring that up, however, he needed to get Charon talking. “I am sorry, I tried but they were worried about what might happen if I came alone,” Phaidros reasoned. “I had called the Rite of Vengeance so that the others didn’t follow you on your way out here. I wanted to make sure we had a chance to talk about… well, everything that has happened.”

  Charon frowned, hesitating, his eyes flicked this way and that as he mumbled to himself before turning towards him fully now. “We should thank you then. We were… not certain what the outcome of such an attack would be but we know it most likely would have ended in violence.” He shook his head. “We do not want that, though we realize with how things are there is no way for me to return to Dasos. The Suneater will chase us to the ends of this world until we are dead.”

  Phaidros blinked, then frowned. “I… I only have a day to bring you and the book back, Charon, before the entire Ignited garrison of Dasos will be hunting for you.”

  Charon paused, digesting the information. His hand gripped the book tightly. “We see…” he muttered softly. His head lowered, then glanced to a knife stuck into a tree. Phaidros noticed how it vibrated.

  There will be no hiding,

  Exaltation said from his knife, though only Charon could hear him. Charon glanced to it briefly. “Why don’t you come with us then, Phaidros?” Charon asked, taking a step toward his brother. “We can leave together. You don’t need to be in the Order to be an Ignited and we would not have to go back to being Cindered,” he said, a smile forming. “We can help one another and if the Ignited come after us we can fend them off. We can already build an army… all we would need is your help to give it a true fighting chance.”

  “So you can continue this… necromancy?” Phaidros asked, gesturing to the corpses behind him that now walked. “You’re killing the entire jungle everywhere you walk, Charon, those people have families that would want to bury them. You’re speaking in two voices now and I can see the imprint of the Shaped Beast’s soul on yours. Suneater told me what that book is.” Phaidros pointed to the book in Charon’s hand. “Whatever comes from that book cannot be trusted, Charon, it’ll turn you into a slave.”

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  Charon let out a huff of amusement. “Is that so? Suneater would also see that we become Ignited again and fight through pain and suffering to cure our cindered soul. We did not have to go through any of that to be where we are now with this.” He lifted the book. “And now we can even become Shaped. All of this jungle once thought of us as prey and now?” He gestured around to the dead trees that surrounded him. “Now we are the master of it all. Life can no longer look down on us because it is rightfully terrified of us.”

  “Is that all that really matters, Charon?” Phaidros asked, tone pleading. “What others think of you? I thought as long as we were both together we would be able to make life worth it. I can still help you. You just have to let me. Please just come back with me.”

  You believe that Suneater will let you live with this power? They will be terrified of you if they leave you as you are. No, the Ideal will devour all of your vitae until you are cindered once more.

  Charon looked between Phaidros and the knife, brow furrowed. “Is the book talking to you?” Phaidros asked. “It is lying to you, Charon. Whatever it’s saying, you can’t listen to it. Suneater told me about how that book is used to destroy entire worlds. The power you are using will be used against you when it no longer needs you.”

  Lies spread by the tyranny of life. We would make you one of us. A god among men, powerful to make even the Ideals quake in fear of your coming. The Father loves all of his children and that is why he gives his power freely. We speak the truth. They are afraid because we are an antithesis of who they are, but an opposite does not immediately mean it is evil. You must trust us, Charon.

  Charon grimaced. There was turmoil in his eyes as he clutched the book tighter. “We can’t go back, Phaidros,” he said, voice trembling. “It is far too late for that. We did not deserve to be punished by life how we were. Leave Dasos, do not wait for us.”

  Phaidros looked panicked as he took a few hurried steps forward. “No! I won’t leave without you, Charon. You have to listen to me.”

  “We love you, Phaidros,” Charon said, regret dripping from his voice. “But you must go. You don’t understand what it was like, the pain, the struggle to even live, while everyone around you looks at you like you’re a sick dog that someone should have just put down years ago.”

  Phaidros approached him further, reaching out for him. “Please, Charon, don’t do this, I—”

  Charon lifted a hand and Phaidros felt a sting of pain and something tug at him from within; the feeling made him stumble back with a cry of pain and made Charon flinch as well. Phaidros’ eyes widened in shock, tears staining the corner of his eyes. “Go!” Charon shouted, the horde around him growing restless.

  “No, wait. Don’t do this, Charon–” The sound of wood shattering broke through the silence of the jungle, followed by a roar. Dom had heard Phaidros cry out and had immediately begun to fight. More trees brought themselves to life to stop the zhuk. “Dom, stand down! I’m not done talking,” Phaidros shouted but the sounds of groaning trees grew more numerous.

  “It’s too late. There’s no going back now,” Charon said, shaking his head, eyes wide. “We need to get away. We need more time to prepare and if you will not leave…” Realization dawned on his features as he found a solution to his problem. “Then you must come with us.”

  Phaidros now looked horrified, leveling his sword before him. The fire within him raged violently as he did so. “Charon, please, do not make me do this.”

  “Please don’t resist, Phaidros. It will make this a lot easier for us both. You’ll barely even notice.” He raised a hand again in a vague gesture and Phaidros felt pain swell in his chest again. Phaidros cried out in pain, the sound echoing throughout the jungle. Another followed it a second later, a gunshot. A corpse threw itself in front of Charon, the bullet blasting through the body but giving him the split second he needed to rear back, one hand raised in a swatting motion. A cut formed on his cheek, the bullet barely missing its mark, as the swarm surrounded him protectively. A moment later, the sound of groaning wood came from the direction that the shot came from followed soon by the sounds of more gunfire. Zenovia had been engaged.

  The pain cut out immediately and Phaidros raised his blade, his emotions in turmoil as the fire within urged him to action. “Charon!” he cried in frightened anguish before he threw himself forward. He needed to get to him, get the book away from him, do something to turn this all around. He took his sword in both hands and charged the bodies that blocked him from his brother and swept it horizontally in a wide arc. The strength of the blow cleaved the front line of corpses in two. Before, they would have simply reknit themselves like they did against the beast, however as Phaidros switched his perception to his life sense, he saw that the droplets within were drawn after the sword, swirling around and into the flame of the blade, purifying it and making Phaidros’ own potential swell.

  Normally he would be horrified, but he needed to act. He stepped forward again, bodies falling around him as he cleaved through the second line, four more bodies falling around him.

  That was when he heard the roar and with his enhanced reflexes, forced himself to the side as the Shaped Beast came barreling towards him with the same speed it had in life. It swiped at the air where Phaidros was a second ago as Charon called out to him. “If you don’t stop we’ll kill them,” he said, voice high in panic. “We’ll kill them all.” The beast continued after Phaidros as he said this, claws swiping as Phaidros parried each strike while retreating.

  It was at that moment that Phaidros realized that his brother was gone. How long had that been the case? Back when he first cindered? When he got the book? Or only now. Phaidros felt his heart crack before anger seeped in through the new openings. “I’m sorry, Charon. For that reason alone I need to stop you.”

  The fire within roared to new heights as the beast brought both claws down on him again. Phaidros no longer backed away but instead roared in fury as his blade collided with the talons, catching them and holding them steady. He was surrounded though, human corpses shuffling towards them with bone weapons sharpened and ready to pierce through his armor.

  Then a large figure in broken armor came rushing into the clearing and bellowing a war cry, jets roaring behind him as he leaped up and crashed his body into the side of the Shaped Beast. Dom and the beast went barreling through the clearing before landing in a tumble. “Thought you could just cheat death and walk away from me, huh? Not today!” he cried before bringing his hammer to bear and slamming it into the creature’s skull. It cracked, then shattered before its clawed hands shoved it off of him, the wound beginning to knit itself back to its previous state. “I got this one, Phaidros! You have company.”

  Phaidros turned to face the crowd, a dangerous sweep of his sword catching two that got too close. Then he heard the sound of creaking wood behind him, the trees that were chasing Dom had caught up, branches and vines already snapping to grab hold of Phaidros. Bullets then rang through the air, severing each of the reaching branches. “Stay focused, Phaidros,” Zenovia called out, flipping into the clearing away from a tree that was just about to try and grab at her as she fired a few more shots into the crowd. Unlike with the Shaped Beast, the bullets ripped through, creating holes and staggering the bodies before they began to reform. “Charon is yours. Just get to him before we get surrounded.”

  He did not need another invitation. He rushed forward towards Charon who was creating more distance between the two of them, the undead horde swarming towards him. Phaidros charged them head on, blade arcing through the air in whistling arcs that flashed silver in the morning light. He severed one head before he ducked a sword hand looking to decapitate him. With a twist of his body he swept his blade around in an elegant arc and cleaved through all around him. He rose, slamming his boot into the body before him, making it crash into the body behind it before he skewered them both, twisted the blade and swept it free as he carved a path toward Charon.

  Charon did not sit idly by any longer however. His minions were already closing in and now he could make use of his other powers he had yet to show. He lifted his hand and the shards of dead grass, splintered wood and the earth itself rose into the air twisting and molding itself into shards of bone. They suddenly launched themselves in a rain of sharp blades over the clearing. Phaidros brought his gauntlet up to block it, some of the shards sticking into his armor with a few cuts snaking through to his helmetless head. The others should be fine, at least that’s what he thought until he heard a grunt of pain from Dom. His armor hadn’t fully healed and one of the shards managed to break through.

  Phaidros needed to move faster. He cleaved and swept through the bodies until the trees were suddenly in his way. These two had been twisted into more humanoid shapes with thick trunk-like arms that swung at him. His reactions brought his sword up just in time for the first blow and the moment the sword bit into its bark it made the reanimated tree go stiff. Phaidros ducked under the second, feeling the wind brush across his cheek before he yanked the sword free and twisted into another strike. This one hit the tree mid trunk and the shaped power of the blade drank freely of the potential within. Both suddenly went limp and suddenly there was nothing between him and Charon. He raised his sword as he charged his brother.

  Charon didn’t even budge before suddenly all three of the Ignited felt an overwhelming wave of fear wash over them. Phaidros was locked into place. Dom was forced back off his feet, the Shaped Beast’s claws pinning his hammer down to the side as its maw opened in threat. Zenovia was grabbed by tree vines with a wooden fist ready to squash her like a bug. “Charon! Stop!” he called out, anger boiling at the back of his throat intermingling with the fear that came at him in waves. “This is between you and me!”

  “If they had their way they’d take us back. We will not let that happen. You have tried to play the hero this whole time, standing up for me as if we could not do so ourselves, for our father’s memory. Now’s your time to prove that you are. Drop your sword and we will spare them, for now.”

  Phaidros felt fresh tears on his cheeks. How could this monster have once been his brother? He grimaced, why was the fear so much stronger now? He tried to take a step forward but dropped to one knee, mind screaming at him to cower before him. No, he could not give in, not now. Charon was just outside of his reach. He looked to either side, seeing Dom struggling with one hand on his hammer and Zenovia struggling against her restraints. They had both come here for him and now they were going to be at the mercy of his monster because of him. He didn’t believe that they would be kept alive for long, not if the Ignited were going to keep hunting Charon after this. It was happening again, Phaidros was going to lose them both. He couldn’t do that, it had only been a short time, but Dom and Zenovia had already done so much for them. They took a boy barely able to defend himself and helped turn him into an Ignited worthy of his father’s legacy, saving his life on multiple occasions. Even when Phaidros was angry with them, even when he didn’t believe in himself, they always followed him, believed in him, saved him. Now it was his time to save them. He needed to get up, not for his sake, but for theirs. He would not let his friends die, without them, he would be nothing, and without them he would become nothing again. “I can’t,” Phaidros said weakly, “I can’t do that.”

  Charon’s eyes shut halfway. “Then they will–”

  Phaidros roared as he tore himself upwards, sword arm extended. Charon’s reactions were enhanced with the Shaped’s soul, but with so little distance between them Phaidros had gotten what he wanted, a small cut on Charon’s cheek. “Free yourselves!” Phaidros bellowed to his companions as he felt another surge of potential flowing straight from Charon. The connection between him and his constructs wavered and Dom shoved the Shaped Beast back and slammed his hammer in an upward arc into its jaw, sending it reeling. Zenovia managed to pry herself free from the tree, twisting away from it and landing nearby Dom. “Good cindering work, Phaidros! Keep up the pressure! We’ll keep them off your back.”

  That left him and Charon, with no one in between them. Phaidros felt his potential roar like a bonfire within him and a presence watching him, but there would be no distractions now. Fear bled away into rage as he threw himself at Charon with renewed vigor.

  This time his brother was ready, ducking backwards and relying on the strength and speed the Shaped soul gave him to do so, carrying him backwards. Then suddenly beneath him, the ground shot up in a pillar and Charon rode it upwards before it shunted him into the air and out of range of Phaidros. He twisted through the air with grace that reminded Phaidros of when Charon was Ignited and let the book float off somewhere where it wouldn’t get in the way of his hands. Phaidros was already on the move though, leaping up onto the earth and using it as a stepping board to chase after him, jets roaring to life to carry him the extra distance. Charon threw his hand towards Phaidros and one of the tree branches from nearby shot out towards him. The rest of the tree began to thin as if it were being compressed and forced down a high-pressure container. Phaidros struck it midair but the movement put him right next to Charon without his sword ready. Charon was already wheeling through the air and his kick connected to Phaidros’ shoulder. Phaidros shot back down to the ground into a tumble. A wall immediately shot out of the ground and he slammed into it, more spines quickly following and slamming into his armor, cracking plate after plate before a final one shot for Phaidros’ head, as Charon finally landed opposite of him.

  Phaidros bellowed another war cry as he desperately swept his sword upwards in time, breaking several spikes in the process to cut off the killing blow from reaching him. The earth turned to dust and Phaidros blasted off towards Charon, who sneered. “We were the greatest champion of The Ring when we were ignited before. We were the most fearsome predator this jungle had. You think you can beat us now that we’re bound?” Phaidros lashed out at Charon in a series of swipes and stabs as Charon ducked and weaved with a dancer’s grace. Each strike and dodge came quicker than the last, the wind whipping around the two of them as Phaidros tried desperately to land a blow. Phaidros backed Charon up to a tree but the latter just kicked back onto it and over Phaidros. In the same motion he’d reanimate more of the land around Phaidros to keep him occupied before landing and charging in for a kick. The maneuver succeeded and Phaidros slammed against the wood, blood gushing from a now broken nose. He spun around just in time to block another spear of earth from running him through. “You can’t win on your own.”

  Phaidros spat out excess blood, grinning through a swollen eye as he went after Charon again, though his movements were starting to get worse. “I’m not alone, Charon,” he said, “Maybe you forced yourself to be, but I didn’t. I am not alone now and I never will be.” He just had to believe his friends heard that. He ran in to strike at Charon again.

  The others!

  Exaltation cried, but it was too late, Charon threw his hands forward and in that same moment, a shot rang through the air.

  Zenovia had been helping Dom fight off the horde while Phaidros fought Charon, but she was always keeping an eye out on how the fight was going, letting Phaidros deal with what he could. When Phaidros started going off about not being alone though? That was the signal she needed. She had hidden her intentions well and when Phaidros surged forward, she had lined up her shot and fired.

  The shot went clean through Charon’s skull; all of his connections sputtered as potential had to seep back to heal Charon’s wounds but it did what it needed to do. Phaidros cleaved through the broken earth and threw his fist to the man’s chest; the stinger within shot out and shattered the breast plate. Charon stumbled back, eyes wide as Phaidros descended upon him, blade raised before it pierced straight through his heart and exited out the back of his chest. Charon stared in disbelief at his brother, a silent moment shared between the two of them before the necromancer coughed up blood. His legs trembled and his gauntlets scratched up against Phaidros’ armor, trying to push him away. Phaidros felt fresh, hot tears run down his cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, brother,” Phaidros choked. “We both should have just left Dasos when we had the chance.” Charon tried to answer but couldn’t quite muster the energy as the sword rapidly drained him of his potential. Tears welled up in his teal eyes, the color slowly fading back to blue as they both collapsed to their knees, Phaidros cradling his brother in his arms.

  Charon reached up to Phaidros, pain in his eyes as he finally managed to speak, voice barely a whisper. “We just wanted to live without suffering.”

  “I know,” Phaidros answered. Behind them both, all of the bodies began to collapse without the potential to fuel them. Dom and Zenovia were released from their bonds, but to Phaidros the whole world around him and Charon disappeared. He gripped his brother tighter. “It is not your fault, Charon.”

  He smiled weakly at that, coughing out more blood as his eyes started to glaze over. He mouthed out words but Phaidros couldn’t hear them. “Our… choice…” is what he thought it might be. The next words were unmistakable however. “Goodbye.”

  Phaidros watched as the last of his potential left him with a puff, before his soul gently drifted off into the heavens like a feather on the wind. The world around them was silent as Charon’s body went limp. Phaidros stared up at the soul in horror through his tears. The fire in his body raged to new heights yet he could barely feel it through the pain of loss.

  He hunched over, covering his brother’s body as he held him close, then screamed in anguish into the air with nothing but the dead, silent jungle around him to answer.