Chapter 238 – Charon, the Death

  Icarus:

  As I y on the bed, paralyzed by the poison spreading through my bloodstream, a peculiar figure shrouded in a bck cloak sat near me. I couldn’t see its face, obscured as it was by the deep shadows of its hood.

  "Pleased to meet you. My name is Charon," he said, his voice low, yet imbued with an inescapable weight. "But you mortals... you know me as Death."

  I didn’t know how to respond. Its voice eculiar—her distinctly male nor female. The dlelight seemed to recoil from it, as though even brightness fled its presence.

  The figure extended a hand. At first, it was nothing but bone, yet as it drew nearer, membranes and flesh began to materialize, ing around the skeletal frame until it became a gray-skinned hand.

  "I feed on life, and yours seems to be nearing its end," it said, withdrawing its hand and tug it back beh the cloak.

  "You’re strange... very strahe threads of fate are all tangled around you. There are too many..." The cloaked figure leaned closer.

  "An ordinary person has a sihread of fate... someone in politics might have five at most. But you... your entire being is covered in threads, so numerous I barely see you. Strange... very strange. Only beings like the Go...” The senteopped abruptly.

  "But you’re just a simple human... How is this possible? It seems eveh is surprised by you, boy."

  Charon stood and began pag.

  "The threads of fate are untouched by time, for they are time itself. Perhaps this abundance of threads is merely an echo of somethio e..." it mused aloud.

  The figure in bck remained motionless, studying me closely.

  "It’s rare for a mortal to see me before their time... and rarer still for oo tinue seeing and hearing me. Usually, they catly a shadow of me out of the er of their eye."

  It leaned in further, its unseen eyes seemingly disseg every part of me.

  "It seems even my destiny is tied to yours," it said, reag out and pg an icy finger on my forehead.

  "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Icarus. Something tells me you’ll lead many to meet me before their time. But that depends on your luck... if the scales of fate tip against you, I’ll e for you tonight."

  Charon stepped back slowly.

  "I’ll give you a piece of advice, Icarus: never let an oracle touch you... they won’t like what they see."

  Charon turoward the darkness, a pce the dlelight dared not reach. Before disappeariirely, he gnced bae final time.

  "We’ll meet again sooner or ter, boy, because in the end... everyone es to me."

  And with that, Charon stepped into the shadows and vanished.

  ***

  I woke from the sea of darkness in my dreams. The room was empty and silent. The strange figure in bck had vanished, and the shadow in the er of the wall, which had seemed to watch me, was no lohere.

  Was it just a dream?

  I y still, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. A heavy emptiness filled the air around me. Everythi like a distant blur until the panic returhat familiar, terrible sensatioook me again. My chest tightened, and the suffog wave hit like a storm.

  It was as though I was drowning in open air. My lungs refused to obey; my throat emitted desperate gasps, but no air passed through. It was a brutal fight against my own body, and the agony ed me.

  "Icarus!" A soft, familiar voice cut through the panic.

  Helen.

  She appeared through the hole in the wall and rushed to me, her eyes filled with worry.

  "I'm so sorry... I left you alone," she whispered, kneeling beside me. Her presence radiated a warmth that almost made me fet my despair.

  Helen leaned closer, pg a firm hand on my chest and softly kissing my forehead.

  "I did it. Just like I said I would. I'm going to save you," she said, revealing a small gss vial in her hand. Its tents glowed faintly.

  My strength was fading quickly. All I wanted in that moment was ao the torture—a release. For Helen to let me go, to allow the suffering to cease.

  "Yoing to be fine," she insisted, her voice trembling but filled with determination. She gently lifted me, resting my head in her p. That simple act adjusted my position just enough for a sliver of air to pass through my lungs.

  That shallow breath felt like a lifeline, a glimpse of hope amidst the chaos. I g to it with every ounce of strength I had left, fighting to draw more air. Helen cradled my face, her eyes log onto mine.

  "I won't lose you," she whispered, pressing her forehead against mine. Her voice carried both determination and desperation, as if every word bore the weight of her hopes.

  "Drink this, please. It’ll help, okay?" Helen said as she poured the viscous, glowing liquid into a cup. Her trembling hands steadied as she focused, p with great care. Her tear-streaked face revealed her anguish, but her eyes remained resolute, refusing to let me slip away.

  "This is all we have. We 't waste a drop," she murmured, almost a prayer, as she sat down beside me.

  That night became one of the hardest we’d ever faced. Helen’s hands shook as she carefully spoohe liquid into my mouth. Every drop felt like a bde, burning my throat as it went down. The bitter, metallic taste was unbearable, yet Helen pressed oermio stay posed despite the torture I was enduring.

  Eventually, exhaustion overcame me, and I drifted into unsciousness. But Helen never left. She stayed by my side, gripping my hand tightly as though her presence alo me tethered to the world. When the chill of daw in, Helen y beside me, ing her arms arouo share her warmth.

  The days that followed blurred into a haze of pain and fever. My sense of time dissolved entirely. Whatever Helen had given me seemed to amplify the agony before any relief. I burned from within as though trapped in an endless inferno. My body poured sweat, the fever ing me and pullio the edge of sciousness. Through it all, Helen remained by my side, unshaken. Her hands cooled my fevered brow, and her voice whispered soothing words I could barely prehend.

  Gradually, the suffog sensation faded. The unbearable symptoms began to relent, leaving me more lucid with each passing day. I felt my strength returning, as though I were emerging from a relentless nightmare.

  When I finally opened my eyes, the room was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of Helen’s breathing. She y beside me, her face turoward me in peaceful slumber. Her serene expression belied the exhaustion I knew she bore.

  I looked at her hand, still holding mine, and something caught my attention. On the back of her hand, there was a distinct mark. An "A," as though seared into her skin with a branding iron. The scar was fresh, and I k hadn’t been there before.

  Helen noticed my gaze and, in a quick motion, tried to hide the mark with her other hand. But it was too te.

  "O... what is that?" I asked weakly, my voice still raw and strained but heavy with .

  She hesitated, her gaze faltering for a moment. Instead of answering, Helen leaned in and pced a long, silent kiss on my forehead. When she pulled away, I saw her face was streaked with tears once more. Her pain spilled over in every movement.

  "It was to save you, Icarus," she whispered, her voice breaking with each word. "I told you... I would save you, no matter the cost."

  Slowly, Helen raised her marked hand and showed me the scar again. The skin was still red, swollen as if from a ret burn. She seemed to wao uand without having to expin.

  "I went to a guard outpost..." she began, but her voice faltered. Helen took a deep breath before tinuing, her eyes shimmering with uears. "That’s where I got the medie. I made a deal for it..."

  "A deal?" I croaked, my voice hoarse aed with anguish.

  Helen nodded, her expression grave. "I showed them that I could wield aura. In exge for the medie... I am now Athena’s property. I’ve been scripted into her army... and soon, I’ll be sent to Agoge. I’ll have to fight in the war."

  Her words hit like a sharp bde, cutting deep. The mark on her hand wasn’t just a symbol of sacrifice; it was a sentence. My mind spun with the implications.

  Helen leaned closer, her eyes log onto mine, overflowing with a mixture of sorrow and resolve.

  "I’ll stay here until you’re fully recovered," she said softly, but her voice carried a crushi. "But this... this is goodbye, Icarus. We will never see each ain."

  ***

  That event was the spark that ignited a of destru and pain, leaving an indelible mark on my past life. Losing Helen, the only person I ever loved, felt as though the ground had been torn from beh my feet. In her final moments, as her frail body grew weaker and her breath faltered, I held her in my arms, feeling the warmth of her life slowly fade away. The light in her eyes dimmed until there was nothi but emptiness.

  The gods’ war took her from me. In their arrogance, with their petty disputes and games of power, they stole the most precious thing I had. In that moment, the world lost all meaning.

  Despair quickly gave way te. A ing, overwhelming rage that burned like a storm of fire in my heart. The love that once illuminated my path turo ashes, and from those ashes, something dark was born. I wanted everything to be engulfed in fmes, for the entire world to pay for what had been taken from me.

  It was then, with her lifeless body still in my arms, that I made my decision. I would bee the greater evil, a sce that would obliterate everything in its path. There would be no heaven or hell that could escape my wrath. I embraced the darkness, being an absolute force—a power that would aowledge nothing but my own desire for destru. If the gods saw themselves as superior to all, then I would be something above them, something even they could not hope to stop.