The air outside the cavern greeted them with a wave of mist, small water particles clinging to the Warden.
’I’m glad I never need to wash him. That could be awkward after... recent developnts.’
Charon felt the pale crown against his scalp, half-expecting the strange thing to create a barrier against the fog, but it didn’t.
Achlys moved ahead with confidence, her form drifting between solidity and haze. Her raven hair, however, was more noticeable now, trailing behind her like a banner.
She murmured under her breath, yet her voice carried as if whispered directly into his ear, though she stood several feet ahead.
"Stay close."
Charon muttered back at her, pulling his robe tighter as the mist curled around his ankles. He did not enjoy the sensation at all.
"I wasn’t planning on wandering off,"
For a few minutes, they walked in silence. Charon’s boots cracked against gravel and dead brush, but Achlys made no sound at all. Every step of hers was silent, her feet raising and falling like any other, yet none of the telltale signs accompanied them.
It was as if she were a ghost, drifting through a courtyard.
His thoughts drifted to the staff he had conjured earlier. Fragile, fleeting, but real. He felt a faint surge of pride, only for it to fade into unease.
Deciding he didn’t like the silence, he spoke to Achlys, his tone penetrating the fog.
"That spell of yours, The Mists of Sorrow... it felt like the fog itself was listening. Like it had a mind of its own."
Achlys slowed, her head turning slightly, though her features remained indistinct.
"The mists are not alive. They are fragnts of my soul scattered throughout this world. When you call upon them, you are not asking fog to obey you; rather, you are asking ."
Charon froze mid-step.
"Wait, so every ti I cast with that ability, you’re involved?"
"In so fashion, yes."
Her tone was steady, almost detached, but there was a strange undercurrent beneath it.
"The mist you shape carries my sorrow. It will always answer, but whether it obeys depends on your strength."
’What about the God of Weather? Should I ask, or would that be insulting? I don’t know if she would like insinuating her elent shouldn’t be hers.’
The dead trees began to thicken as they descended the slope. Hardened roots jutted from the soil like crooked fingers, forcing Charon to watch his footing. Growing curious, he tapped one with his boot, the once-alive plant crumbling into dust at the slightest pressure.
’Creepy. Alastor really did a number on this place. I imagine it was once vibrant and lively.’
Achlys glided over them without issue.
Shooting a glance her way, Charon asked sothing that had been weighing on him.
"When we ca here, my friends told this wasn’t supposed to be here. The Dead Lands are further South, so it doesn’t make sense for us to be forced to cross. What happened?"
She held her tongue for a mont as he sidestepped a particularly large, gnarled trunk. Smoke drifted from the top, as if lightning had recently struck.
"Alastor has long passed, yet his followers are still nurous."
He frowned.
"Even if they sohow expanded them, the geography is entirely different. We passed by ruins that shouldn’t exist. Even the town we are heading to isn’t on any maps, Annie was sure of it. Any attempts to locate ourselves failed."
Achlys vanished in the mists, Charon halting his montum in shock before she reappeared on the other side of him, her pace interrupted as if nothing had happened.
"I have been following you for days. Your friends are knowledgeable about the mundane, yet lack insight into the magical. Alastor was a powerful demi-god, and his attributes were nurous. Chief among them was being the harbinger of change, much like I carry the weight of sorrow."
Her fingers danced as a small bit of fog floated to his hand, a rose building itself.
"It is likely that the Dead Lands summoned you, rather than you entering them. It takes little for a domain of such power to exert its influence, especially over a handful of Novices."
Charon’s jaw dropped in amazent.
"So the bio itself brought us here? I didn’t even know that was possible! I’ve only recently started exploring the wonders of magic, and every ti sothing happens, I feel like I’m just scratching the surface."
Achlys smiled encouragingly, an unusual expression on her dour face.
"That feeling will never leave, boy. Magic is inherently a door to all things, the limitation being what keys you manage to find. So may lead you to suffering and hatred, while others invite you into pleasure and paradise. Take great care about which keys you choose."
He had never heard it put that way, but he thought it made a lot of sense. If magic could do the impossible, then it truly had no limits.
At the sa ti, he knew that he couldn’t just snap his fingers and be unstoppable. It had rules and restrictions, and you had to follow them. If you did that well enough, you could find those restrictions whittle away until you were truly powerful.
’That’s what I want. I want to be able to use magic to do whatever I want. I can take the fight to the Elves and slaughter them for what they’ve done.’
Vengeance might not have been a warm fire, but it was still keeping Charon cozy.
Did anything else matter?
"Why would the Dead Lands want us here, anyway?"
Achlys’ form wavered for just a second, so fast Charon thought he must’ve imagined it.
"I am unsure. The clearest excuse would be that it sought to have dispatch you, as I had planned to do, yet I know my departed brother’s realm is more intelligent than that. Surely it would’ve sensed the Warden with you, and therefore known the risk of us making contact."
"Dispatch us? Does that an..."
His eyes widened as he subconsciously took a step away from her.
"You were going to kill us!?"
She didn’t outwardly react, but he still felt a distinct eye roll coming from her direction. It was a general vibe, sothing he attributed to their bond.
"Of course. If not for the Warden, I was going to do whatever it took to remove mortals from my temple. I had hoped the figures I had sent would be warning enough, yet you dangerously pressed onwards. I could not allow you any further."
Charon sputtered as he tried to find the proper words to describe his shock.
"So!? How would that justify killing us? We hadn’t done anything wrong! We were just trying to get to the North so we could accomplish our mission!"
She shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling.
"Inconsequential. An enemy may turn out to be a poor conscript, forced to serve in soone else’s fight. That does not absolve them of their transgression; lack of understanding is not an excuse. You would do well to rember this lesson, boy. You will undoubtedly face those who did not seek your opposition, yet find themselves there regardless."
It was a heartless interpretation, and Charon didn’t agree with it.
"That’s different. We weren’t being hostile or aggressive. You would have seen how lost and confused we were. At any point, you could have revealed yourself and shown us the exit. We would have thanked you and been on our way, no bloodshed required."
Achlys finally turned to face him, her expression unreadable.
"And if you had recognized ? The girl among you, Annie, possesses the knowledge required to identify through my traits. She could have spread this to those who seek the power of an Archon. I would be hunted, chased from my temple."
She floated towards him, as if hoping to intimidate. It didn’t work, as Charon was confident that the summoner bond would keep her restrained from outright hurting him, yet he couldn’t help the inkling of fear blooming in his heart.
"My penance must be completed, or else I shan’t see absolution. That temple was one of the few locations remaining in this realm, or any other, that could protect from other demi-gods. Should it have been compromised, I would have been easily destroyed."
The gates of the dark town ca into view as they crested a hill, their conversation montarily stalled as she spun, drifting down the hill far ahead, leaving him to his thoughts.
Groaning, Charon shook his head and gritted his teeth.
’What happened to defending humans? It’s like she isn’t even the sa demi-god I saw in the vision.’
He wondered if he knew anything about her at all.
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