Alistair & Kane

The forest was silent as ever when Lucius awoke, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the gods' simulated winds. No animals lived here. No insects dwelled in the earth or the trees that would otherwise add to the natural ambience. It was only Lucius and the stalker.

Kane would not stir from his hiding place - wherever it was - until Lucius rose and picked up his sword. Rather his father's sword, Ripper. But Lucius did not rise. Instead, he lay still, face up, eyes open, watching the blades of heavenly light filter through the canopy. It was surprisingly serene.

Lucius knew that, from what few memories he had managed to recover, he would not have found a single drop of beauty in the sight before his real death. Or any other sight, for that matter, that did not entail blood, women, or gold.

He had changed. And it wasn't a case of 'for the better' or 'for the worse'. He had simply changed. He wasn't the lost soul, and he wasn't jack; he wasn't even sure if he was still Lucius, despite how comforting the name was to him.

After some time of tranquil contemplation, the faintest of footsteps sounded from behind, and a hooded figure slowly came to stand between him and Ripper. Lucius couldn't help but restrain a faint smile of relief.

The stalker nocked an arrow, but he didn't raise his bow; his target was too relaxed to seem like a threat. Lucius then slowly rose to a seated position. The stalker still stood silently behind him, ever watchful for Lucius's next movements.

"Jack?" said the stalker.

"Lucius, actually..." he replied.

The stalker seemed confused under his hood. "Then who's Jack?"

"My father..."

"I see... have we-"

"Fifth time we've first met," interrupted Lucius.

The stalker paused, pensive.

Lucius turned to stare into the stalker's piercing green eyes and spoke with a sudden seriousness. "Kane... who is Alistair?" Kane recoiled, and his hand rearranged itself on the grip of his bow, but he did not answer. "Who is he? He instils a crippling fear in you, Kane. What happened?" His last words almost came out as sincere.

Kane swallowed with difficulty. "I don't know why you'd bring him up. Or why I would have. That monster deserves no mention or thought."

Lucius raised his voice slightly and said, "he is what awaits us beyond the rift. And how we both died."

Kane's skin turned pale. He fidgeted on the spot for a moment before muttering, "impossible. The Highway is near infinite. It is too large for souls to meet more than once."

"This isn't like you, Kane. Just mentioning his name has muddled your thoughts and caused you to abandon all your gall."

"The Kane you knew is dead!"

"Then let me help this Kane live."

Kane looked away. But Lucius knew those eyes well. Beyond their festering anxiety, they were calculating. Calm and collected. Kane may have panicked at first, but without Alistair's overbearing presence, he was slowly regaining control of himself.

The hooded archer lowered himself against a fallen tree-trunk. "Sorry..." he breathed. Lucius gave a forgiving wave of his hand.

The pair then sat in silence for several minutes; Lucius fumbled with the glowing gem, the Emberwood's catalyst, while Kane obsessively tested the tautness of his bowstring.

After a time, Lucius asked his question again: softer and more considerately than before. "Who is he, Kane?"

The archer sighed. "It's not who he is that's important. He's a psychopath. A sinner among sinners. It's what he's done... How much do you know of The Highway? The Emberwood was your first Bearer, correct?"

"It was. And you've told me enough to understand its workings."

"Good... Our souls are singular on The Highway. It's our bodies that split apart and take different paths along its lanes. When you die, and I survive, that Kane continues on that path. When you resurrect, a new path opens, and another Kane is born in the exact likeness as when the resurrection point was created. Usually, one does not share memories between our different realities. But when many realities hold near identical memories, when the same thing happens over and over, if it is traumatising enough on the mind, those terrible memories converge and collapse on our soul, sending us mad, and in the worst-case scenario, become Bearers of Essence.

"Alistair and I allied in the same way me and you did... but I was naive. I had no method of testing someone's sanity. After some time, he turned on me... tried to torture me. I was powerless against his abilities. I'm incapable of fighting him with my arsenal. I was saved by the realm's Essence Bearer. It caught Alistair off guard and I managed to give him the slip. I found my version of the Essence Bearer and slew it quickly. Our rifts lead to different paths.

"I assumed it over, Lucius. I really did. But soon after, I began to have visions... dark visions. Vivid, almost real visions. That bastard had killed himself to try again. And he succeeded. Not once. Not twice. Fuck, I don't even remember how many times he did it. My soul was tortured to the point that those memories all converged on each other. I felt every cut, every incision, every defilement of my body. And not just the physical pain. The mental trauma of a thousand deaths, more even, all hit me at once. I was reduced to a husk. I roamed that single lane of The Highway with my mind in shattered shards... any wandering soul might have mistaken me for a beast. Not that I can recall any coherent memories of then."

Lucius stared into the ground. He pitied Kane, but he knew that pity wasn't what Kane was looking for. "How long did it last?"

"Fuck knows," Kane replied in a deflated tone, shaking his head softly as he joined the swordsman in staring through the forest floor. "I have no concept of time anymore, Lucius. He stole that from me... There were several moments where I was inches away from turning into the very things we seek to slay. That's how most turn, anyway. They lose their minds along the path to hell. And when the gods decide they're beyond salvation, they turn them into Bearers of Essence. Sometimes they turn us regardless, just for fun."

Lucius's brow softened. "Hell wouldn't seem like such of a bad place after all that, huh..."

"Better to endure the torture of the moment, than the torture of thousands of moments all at once."

"Sounds like we should kill this son of a whore. Together this time. No turning icicle on me."

Kane was hesitant, but he nodded with a brief smile. "I can't imagine what I would have gone through, seeing him so suddenly. I'm surprised I didn't take my own life..." Kane suddenly looked up at Lucius. "I didn't, did I?"

Lucius shrugged and held back a grin. "It wouldn't do you any good knowing how you died. Plus, I didn't actually see your death. I was out cold. Just your corpse."

"Probably for the best," Kane relented.

"There are a few things that are different this time around that may be to our advantage. One; This gem heals me, as long as I'm still conscious to use it. But only once per resurrection. Two; we know what to expect. We can plan around it. Three; I'm now able to do this." Lucius rose a hand, and flames began to coil up his arm and form a sphere in his palm: embers spitting upward from its depths.

Kane's eyes turned to their cunning, calculating, low browed stare. "How hot can you make the sword?" he asked. "Hot enough to cut through stone?"

"Only one way to find out," Lucius answered, and Kane threw him some clothes.