Sorry, Mark!

The camp was eerily quiet, save for the crackling of the small fire that Marcus had started to tend to the wounds of the survivors. He moved methodically, checking each person in turn, his face a mask of calm concentration. But beneath that calm exterior, Marcus's mind was churning.

David sat apart from the group, his head bowed, staring blankly at the ground. The weight of everything that had happened bore down on him like a crushing force. Sarah lay nearby, still as death, her face pale and motionless. Mike, Emily, and Alex sat together, their faces drawn with exhaustion and the dull ache of minor injuries, but their spirits were battered more than their bodies. And Mark… Mark was gone.

Marcus finished his assessment of the group and turned his gaze to Mark's lifeless body. The wound in his back, the cursed blade still protruding from it, was a grim reminder of the brutality they had faced. He knelt beside the body, his hand gently closing Mark's eyes. A moment of silence passed, and then Marcus spoke, his voice low but filled with respect.

"We should honor him properly," Marcus said. "Mark was your leader. He deserves to be remembered."

David nodded, his movements slow and mechanical, as if he were operating on autopilot. "We'll burn his body… and spread his ashes to the wind."

The group silently agreed, and they began to gather what they needed for the ritual. A pyre was built, simple and small, but enough to serve as a final resting place for their fallen leader. As they placed Mark's body atop the wood, the reality of the situation began to sink in for all of them.

One by one, they each said their final words to Mark as the flames began to consume his body.

Mike, his voice thick with emotion, said, "You were always the one with the plan, Mark. We followed you because we trusted you. We'll keep going, for you."

Emily, her eyes red and swollen from tears, whispered, "You were like a brother to me. I'll miss you… we all will."

Alex, who had been quieter than usual, managed to say, "I'll make sure we survive, Mark. I won't let you down."

When it was David's turn, he hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He looked down at the flames, the firelight reflecting in his yellow eyes. "I'm sorry, Mark… I'm so sorry. I should have… I should have done more."

Marcus stepped forward, sensing the weight of guilt that David carried. "You did what you could, David. Don't carry this burden alone. We all failed, in one way or another."

David didn't respond, but the words hung in the air, offering a small comfort, even if it didn't feel like it at the moment.

When the fire had reduced Mark's body to ashes, Marcus took a small handful and held it to the wind. The ashes scattered, disappearing into the night sky. "Rest in peace, Mark," Marcus murmured. "We'll carry your memory with us."

As the group prepared to leave the camp, the atmosphere was tense, heavy with the recent battles and losses. Sarah's unconscious form was carefully wrapped and carried, every step they took filled with the weight of uncertainty.

As they walked, Marcus's thoughts drifted back to his past, the memories surfacing like ghosts that refused to stay buried.

***

Marcus stood before the towering red walls of the temple, the air thick with the scent of burning incense. The Red Temple had always been a place of power, a place where warriors and mages alike came to hone their skills and unlock their true potential. But for Marcus, it had been more than just a place of learning—it had been a place of redemption.

He had arrived at the temple as a young man, driven by a thirst for power and a desire to prove himself. His early years had been spent making rash decisions, driven by ambition rather than wisdom. He had sought power for power's sake, never fully understanding the consequences of his actions.

It wasn't until he had nearly lost everything—his friends, his purpose, his very soul—that he had realized the folly of his ways. The path to becoming a Grandmaster had been long and fraught with challenges, but it had also been a path of self-discovery and atonement.

He had trained under the guidance of the temple's elders, learning to harness the raw power of fire and thunder, to channel his magic with precision and control. But it wasn't just about the magic—it was about understanding the responsibility that came with it. The elders had taught him that true power wasn't about domination; it was about protection, about using his abilities to safeguard others, not to destroy.

Yet, even with all he had learned, there were still regrets. There were battles he had fought where the cost had been too high, where his decisions had led to unnecessary suffering. There were people he had failed to protect, lives he had been unable to save.

As Marcus had ascended to the rank of Grandmaster, he had vowed to use his power wisely, to be a guardian rather than a conqueror. But the burden of those past mistakes weighed heavily on him, a constant reminder of the fine line between righteousness and hubris.

And now, standing in the present, Marcus felt that weight more than ever. The island was a cruel, unforgiving place, and these young survivors were caught in the middle of a conflict they barely understood. He saw echoes of his younger self in David—a young man thrust into a role of leadership, struggling to navigate a world that demanded so much from him.

Marcus had been alone in his journey, but he didn't want the same for David and the others. He wanted to help them, to guide them, to ensure they didn't make the same mistakes he had. But he also knew that he couldn't shield them from everything. They would have to face their own challenges, fight their own battles. All he could do was offer them the tools and knowledge they needed to survive.

As they continued their journey to Lumera, Marcus felt that David and his teammates have changed something inside him. It was not just "task" anymore.