The Way Forward

Mordred

Xavier was very persistent in his search for Epoch. I had actually met him years prior. He was an expert in most fields of magic, but where he truly shined was in the art of destruction. Epoch served in the army for over a decade, and was a survivor of the Bloody First. He retired soon after that and focused on research. He mainly studied other dimensions, presumably hoping to find a way to defeat the demons. When I first met him, I thought he might be able to send me home, but I soon realized that he was only interested in researching ways of permanently killing a demon. I never met him again, but I heard that he was most frequently seen in the mage guild in the capital.

With that in mind, I led Xavier inside. After asking around a bit, we discovered that Epoch was not there. We started to head back to the tavern when the sun was low in the sky. I noticed that Xavier kept looking around. "What's wrong?"

"I feel like something is… Off. We need to get inside, fast."

"What is it exactly?"

"Just a sense of dread."

"Because an inexplicable feeling of dread is a sure indicator that something is wrong," I snorted. "It's probably nothing."

As we continued walking, Xavier's words started to worry me. He was usually right about those things, so I felt it was prudent to hurry to the tavern. When we finally reached it, I let out a sigh of relief. We saw Solskin sitting in the bar, staring into a mug. Probably drunk. I waved and continued upstairs while Xavier began talking to him. I flopped down on my bed and fell asleep quite peacefully.

Xavier

"What's wrong?"

"I was useless in the fight. I feel like I'm eight all over again." Solskin lamented. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Have you heard about the attacks ten years ago? There was a really bad one in my village."

"Yes."

It clicked. The intense combat had made him remember the fear from all those years ago.

"You feel that way because you nearly died." I said, keeping my voice neutral.

"Yes." Solskin seemed far away. He was looking in his mug.

"I remember my first near-death experience. There is no use panicking."

"Mmhmm."

"You don't seem to be coping well."

Solskin snapped up. "Of course not!" he yelled, his voice cracking, "I'm not used to… Situations like this. Not like you. Back there, when we were falling, I kept thinking about that night."

"You must be trying to leave it behind."

"Yes. Persephone said that was the best."

"Persephone says a lot of things. Don't listen to her."

"Why? Isn't that what everyone does?"

"I have a different way that I know works. I used it on the battlefield. Every time death showed its ugly face, I remembered it. People never forget death, and trying to let it go is a pointless act of cowardice."

"How exactly does that help? When I sleep, I dream about my own death! I just want the pain to go away."

What I saw before me was just a child that had been forced to grow up too fast. He couldn't cope with the terrors of battle. I sighed inwardly. Solskin lacked the experience to deal with the true fear that came with the horrors of war. "Trust me, it does. Death is just another part of life. Something that you can learn from."

"How? Just how?" Solskin cried. His tone of voice warned me that he was close to breaking down.

"Remember the fear of death. Once it is ingrained in you, bring it into every battle. That fear will drive you to face death head on. Fear is natural. Fear is unavoidable. The only thing you can do is use it to go forward."

Solskin stared deeply into his cup. Tears trickled down his face.

"Don't fear fear. Confront it. Use it to go forward. I have gone through this process too many times to count." I got up and started walking to the stairs, trying to not remember the past and all of those that I left behind on that bloody field.

Solskin

Xavier's words struck a chord with me. They were familiar to me. Erik had always mentioned it as a lesson in his tales. I was ashamed in myself, Erik would have been disappointed. I looked at the retreating back of Xavier and saw the same poise Erik had. The confident manner with which a fighter carried himself. I felt my heart rise again. I steeled myself and plunged deep into my memories. Recalling every detail, I went through the battle moment by moment, second by second, and I felt better. The fear was not gone, but I felt better. Each time I faced down the memory, it became more bearable. Through this process I realized the truth in Xavier's advice, I no longer found the same fear in those memories and with Xavier as my role model, I never would again.

I wanted to thank Xavier, so I walked up to our rooms, but he was already in his room, with the door locked. I walked into my room, closed the door and sat on my bed. Still trying to internalize what had caused my overwhelming fear. I sat there, slowly turning my fear into a tool. I fell asleep much faster than usual, at peace for the first time in years.

Persephone

I spent most of my nights praying, but on that night I felt a unnatural sense of tiredness. My eyes were heavy and my mind clouded. I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. In a state of semi-consciousness, I heard something. Someone was whimpering. I was too tired to bother. There was a creak of the floorboard and a soft scratch of wood. I tried to get up, but found I couldn't. My body refused to respond. My eyes narrowed and I fought back against the now-apparent magic at play. I was able to reach out with my arm, but my movements were sluggish and my limbs seemed as though they were weighed down with lead. I struggled to grab my pocket watch from the stand beside the bed. There were more sounds of whimpering.

I grabbed onto the watch, I felt the divine energy flood through me and the spell fade, and the weight left my limbs. I jumped up and tried to open my door. It was sealed shut. I kicked and pushed and charged the door. It wouldn't budge a inch. Desperately, I pushed the pocket watch against my chest and began chanting. Placing my palm against the door, I prayed to Thanatos for power. A black hand formed over mine. The wood it touched rotted and shriveled up. The door turned a sickly green. Backing away, I kicked the door, shattering it into splinters that scraped my skin as I rushed toward the sounds. As I ran down the hall, I noticed that Xavier's door was open and the sounds seemed to originate from his room.

I charged in, ready to fight. Inside was a figure, stroking the top of Xavier's head with his palm, murmuring something in a language I didn't understand. Xavier had sweat covering his face and he was whimpering. The figure looked at me. I yelled and charged him.