Chapter 21. Pumped

'Oh my god, he did it. I did it!'

Adrenaline pumped through Charon's body as he watched the lethal bout between boy and beast. Watching as Leo took the wolf down in a last-ditch attempt he shot his hands up in proud victory. With trembling legs he couldn't stand to be on his feet anymore and fell to the loose rock beneath him, scraping himself in the process. Not caring of the minor scrapes he gained on the hard of his knee he could only be grateful the two survived.

Relieved that he had found the rocky shore of the river to be a virtual goldmine for weighted stone. He remembered scrambling to all fours when he noticed Leo and the wolf gaining on each other. Finding a few decent weighted rocks, he gave them an experimental toss in the shallow of his hand before launching them forward with as much power as he could muster while still giving them a precise enough aim to hit their target. 

He hadn't expected to hit a target from a little over 50 feet away across the river, but all those times he had thrown rocks to pass the time when he was still homeless and on the streets seemed to pay off. The stone luckily hit the beast on the side of the head.

From where Charon kneeled on the loose pebbles of the shore, he could see Leo's body release its tension and fall to the ground, landing in the pile of blood spilling from the deceased wolf. 

"Leo?" He shouted out at his companion. 

With no reply he watched as the pool of blood grew with no sign of Leo doing anything to further himself from it, allowing his body to be dyed in its blood. 

Concern filled Charon's body. Scrambling up he let out a couple more concerned shouts to his friend before diving in the water after him. Entering the river he found it more shallow than it looked only going down about 3 feet at the deepest reaches but it was still enough to almost rise above his chest. Thankfully the water wasn't rushing and he was able to safely get across.

Getting ashore he fought against his body's lingering will as his limbs shook from the draining adrenaline that threatened to topple him. Pushing through his body's desperate pleads to rest he made it to the two fallen bodies. 

Taking note of the splintered piece of wood sticking out from the wolf's neck he was thankful he came up with the idea to launch the rock like a baseball with the help of the squished body of the wolf that was chasing him. He expended so much energy to rid the body of its leg that he had to resort to crudely tearing the skin apart with a nearby sharp rock. Finally getting it free from its sock he used the leg as a makeshift bat and launched the rock which directly hit the side of the animal's head, allowing Leo to finish the deal. 

He sighed in relief as he reached Leo's body, noting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

Charon wasted no time, immediately trying to shake Leo awake. Despite his aggressive efforts, the boy remained unconscious.

"Why isn't he waking up? He's not dead... at least, I don't think he is," he muttered anxiously.

Pulling one of Leo's arms over his shoulder, Charon began to carry the other boy's body with him. Using all his strength, he started retracing their steps back to the church, hoping that by the time they arrived, Leo would wake up. 

Along the path, Charon found that Leo's breath was steady and shallow. His sleeve was rolled up past the shoulder due to swimming in the river. On the plain of his shoulder, the young boy spotted a peculiar outline begin to appear.

"What the—"

Charon's eyes narrowed upon noticing the small mark on his friend's shoulder. An outline began to form as if tattooed on him by an unknown force. Yet upon noticing it, it soon began to disappear. 

Despite his confusion and concern, Charon continued to head home, keeping an eye on the strange area where the mark had appeared. The closer he got to home, the more it faded it became until it had dissipated completely, leaving the patch of skin as smooth as it before.

After a grueling half hour of carrying Leo's body, the image of the outskirt farms finally came into view. He was so close to home. 

But his strength was faltering and his eyes grew heavier from the loss of blood. The trail of droplets marking the path they followed.

The sun was already setting in the distance, and Charon could see the flickering lights in the numerous farmers' windows. Soon, figures emerged from the nearest farmhouse. Five men, dressed in armor and carrying swords at their sides, were part of the men-at-arms regiment.

Seeing the small group exit the household, Charon let out a pleading shout, hoarse with exertion, in an attempt to get their attention. He recoiled from the dryness in his voice, only now realizing how thirsty he's been and the way is muscles shook with every movement.

The shout for help was all he could muster with his wavering strength. Upon seeing one of the men raise their hand pointing the two out, his head fell to the ground in complete exhaustion. Before his consciousness fully evaporated, he heard the rush of footsteps and panicked voices calling out to him. The cold embrace of oblivion welcomed him as his world disappeared.

...

...

...

In the vast expanse of the void, Charon could see nothing. The endless black that holed off his vision made him think for a split second he was dead before small lights began to appear. He couldn't be dead, he could think and he could feel his fingers moving. That wouldn't be possible if he was dead, or at least he hoped so. 

He realized his body floated in a vat of emptiness, surrounded only now by the appearance of shimmering stars off in the immeasurable distance. His form was in its most natural state as it drifted there, yet he didn't feel exposed; rather, he felt welcomed.

Floating in the endless void he felt his mind about to slip and his fingers go numb when a voice called out.

"What are you doing, Shimih?" The alien voice asked, echoing into the void.

Someone was talking.

Charon's eyes widened as he attempted to respond, desperate to convey his presence. Opening his mouth, no words came out, and the void seemed to echo his thoughts back at him as if to taunt the boy. Confusion mounted as he twisted his body in the emptiness, unable to vocalize any sort of call for help.

Turning what he believed to be a full 180 degrees in the void, he was taken aback at the sight of a peculiar anomaly in the otherwise featureless expanse—a patch of void that differed from the distant stars.

It had a tangible quality, like a rift in the fabric of the void—a floating piece of solidity in an otherwise intangible world. The rift resembled the image of a stone tower. In the distance, a sun shimmered, and two young women stood at the top of the tower. One looking off into the distance while another one with dark hair stared into her back.

Squinting his eyes, Charon tried to make out what this strange expanse was. Allowing his gaze to fixate on this anomaly, and watched as it came into focus, zooming closer with each passing moment, drawing him towards its enigmatic presence, eventually swallowing up his senses.

As the void disappeared, solid ground under his feet replaced it and a light breeze weaved through his long red hair. Lifting his hand to block out the sun, Charon realized this wasn't his hand nor his hair. It wasn't even his body.

"Shimih? Hello, are you there?" The inquisitive voice from before asked once more.

Facing the origin of the question, Charon was shocked to see a young woman in layers of robes and twisting dark hair flowing to the side as she tilted her head at him and asked once more directly to him.

"Shimih, what are you doing up here?"

Unable to control the body's mouth it replied to the young woman. "Just admiring the view, sister."

His mind struggling to understand had registered the voice as not his own yet knew it'd come from him. Once more the voice stemming from his mouth was feminine with the softness and silk character that his own undoubtably did not possess. It dripped in the rich accent and grace of a noblewoman, not one that he knew.

The young woman furrowed her brows as she continued to stare daggers into Charon. She was evidently annoyed and possibly agitated at something beyond his control. "Shimih stop playing games, it isn't funny you know. Your childish act has been causing Father to fuss nonstop. More so he's been looking for you all day, so you need to get ready for the ceremony immediately." Taking a step back she soon hesitated. "What have you been doing up here the whole time?"

Finally able to get a view of his body, looking down Charon noticed certain body parts he had that he usually didn't, and some that were missing altogether.

Realization hit him. He was in the body of one of the young women he had spotted on top of the tower in the void. He assumed his, or rather her, name was Shimih, and that she had been looked for all day according to this woman. 

As the realization settled in, Charon felt a surge of disorientation and curiosity. How had he come to inhabit Shimih's body? And why was she, or at least her body, being looked for? What was this ceremony the sister talked about?

Glancing around, Charon took in his surroundings. He was still atop the stone tower, the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape below. Below, a bustling city sprawled out in all directions stretching to untold lengths, its streets teeming with life visible even from such a high view.

But despite the vibrant scene below, Charon couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. He—or rather, Shimih—didn't belong here. Yet, at the same time, there was a sense of familiarity, as if he had been here before.