The Return

Persephone

After hiding from all manner of creatures and monsters, we made it the pass. It was unassuming, just a small crack on the wall, but I knew the story, I couldn't look back or touch him. Solskin was still weak, and I worried that he might collapse. I wanted to rest until Solskin was well, but he refused.

I could see a small fire burn in his eyes. He wanted to get out of the Underworld. He had something to do, something to accomplish. I forced a nagging doubt to the back of my mind and entered the crevice. I all could do was hope Solskin could pull through.

The path was long and steep. The floor was unsteady and each step sent rocks tumbling over the edge and into the dark abyss. There was no sound. No rocks hitting the edge, no wind ruffling the clothes, I could not even hear my footsteps. With each passing moment my anxiety grew. I felt a seed of doubt enter my mind: Was Solskin still behind me? The question burned in the back of my head. The temptation to look at Solskin was overwhelming. Occasionally, I would catch myself starting to turn around.

"Look, and it's all over." I berated myself. I tried to think about other things, but eventually, my mind would drift back to the question. It was torturous. I didn't know how, but I managed to find the strength to not look back. The anxiety was suffocating. As I was just about to give in, I could see a light.

"The end!" I screamed with glee. I ran into the light, relieved that it was all over.

I opened my eyes. The world was silent. The early morning shone through the window. I quickly got up and ran to Solskin's body. Ripping away his shirt, I could see the fresh scar from the sword. I pressed my ear against his chest and put my hand up to his nose.

There was nothing. Not even the faintest of breathes or heartbeats. Did he fall? Did I look back without knowing? Did he ever enter the pass? These thoughts quickly raced through my mind. I failed. I didn't save him and now… He was gone. Forever.

I sat back, wallowing in despair. He was dead. I hugged my knees and stared into his face. His eyes were closed and he was expressionless. He looked serene and tranquil. I stared for hours, griefly silently for my second lost friend.

Just when I was about to get up, I felt a soft wind fill the room. It was warm and comforting, like a loving embrace. I saw Solskin's eyes flutter. The movement was so small that I almost didn't notice it, but I was sure he moved. I rushed back down, pressing my hands against his chest, trying to force him to breathe again. Underneath my hand, his flesh turned gray. His face contorted and blood began to trickle out of the his mouth. I felt something tug at my soul. Pain racked my body as I fell to the ground, seizing uncontrollable. I felt like my soul was sucked into a vortex of blades. I stared at my hand in shock. The hand had taken another appearance. It was was skeletal in nature with sharp ends.

Something whispered in my ear, "Be careful of what you touch."

Mordred

Water was trickling somewhere nearby. The constant dripping was the first thing I heard. The next was murmuring. My ear was ringing and I could barely make out the words.

"...the ritual...not too long."

"Great...he?...return."

"...Persephone...deal…"

"...the Hunter…"

The conversation continued, but I couldn't tell what was being said. The voices approached me

before stopping. I tried to open my eyes, but I could barely move them.

"He is awake." The words seemed to bounce around in my head. I jerked awake.

My eyes fluttered open and I could see two hooded figures in front of me. Their faces covered by a white mask. A mask was emblazoned on their robes.

One of them crouched and looked at my face. "How do you feel, dead one?"

Dead one? What did he mean? I looked around the room for answers until I saw it. In the corner off the room was a mirror. The sight made me vomit, but all that came out was blood.

Where I was supposed to be was instead a rotting corpse. My flesh had greenish tint and was loosely hanging off my bones. My disintegrating flesh revealed pale yellow bones in several places. My face was marred by blood and pus. My cheeks had sunken in, and my nose was missing. That was just the beginning. Right at the center of my stomach was a gaping hole, black blood slowly trickling out and some already splattered on the floor. My intestines were spilled out like soggy noodles. My hands were black and blue from the lack of blood. The flesh of my fingers were only held together only by a few strands of ligaments and tendons. I screamed in horror.

"Shhh, shhhh. You will be just fine. Our lord has given you a great gift. You will be the host. He will heal you."

I felt lightheaded for a moment as I realized what he said. My lord. The Kings. Ash. I snarled at the robed man. "Where is that slimy piece of filth? I'll kill him!"

Silently, another figure stepped into the room, carrying a bow. Wrapped in a ragged hunter's cloak, he gazed at my rotting corpse of a body, his eyes filled with pity and regret. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He quickly closed his mouth, his hands clenched tightly into a fist. He walked out again with a loud slam of the door. On his hand was a tattoo of a skull.