Anima once asked Her Lord Husband and Mate, Eidos, "Why do people love me but hate you?"
Eidos could only wrap His arms around His Lady-Wife as He responded, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I but the painful truth."
Anima smiled sadly even as She snuggled into Her Lord Husband's embrace. "Yet, without you, my love, my beauty would lose meaning, for it is in your arms that my purpose is fulfilled."
Universe (H)-02 | Plane of Immortals Shade
Class-Five Restricted Planet: C-53/SR/R3-O2
Tūrul's Nest | Circa 600 b.C.n.
The twilight sky was ablaze with the hues of crimson and gold, the last rays of the setting sun casting long shadows over an ancient forest; one that was naught but a hushed whisper within a realm where the boundaries between life and death were blurred and spirits roamed freely - where the very powers of Death Himself were rumoured to lay dormant, awaiting those brave or foolish enough to try and place their claim upon them.
Yet, as the sun dipped below the horizon, three figures emerged from the dense underbrush; three friends whose eyes reflected a mixture of determination and trepidation, and whose robes where barely visible beneath the shimmering fabric of the Invisibility Cloak that shrouded them.
The first of these friends, Zeno, led the way. His tall frame commanded the presence of all who beheld him, marking him as the clear leader of this trio. But there was an arrogance in his stride that hinted towards a rather fatal flaw, and in his hand he did clutch a wand of unparalleled power; a weapon rumoured to have been forged in the very In-Between and blessed by Noem Himself - the Elder Wand.
Zeno's eyes burned with a lust for conquest, a desire to be invincible. Yet behind him walked Althea, a woman whose gaze was both distant and haunted; tormented by loss and heart heavy with sorrow. Althea, unlike that of her friend, did not seek the Stone for power, but that of love - a love that Death had so cruelly stolen from her. In the witch's mind, the Resurrection Stone was naught but a beacon of hope; a promise to reunite with her love and help prove once and for all that love could- would conquer all.
The last of these friends was Elderan, whose own demeanour was calm yet contemplative. As the eldest and wisest of the trio, his mind was sharp and his heart... conflicted. He, unlike that of Zeno; who wished for power, and Althea; who did for reunion and defiance, sought to instead understand. To the current guardian of Death's own Cloak, the Stone of Resurrection was but a mystery to unravelled; a frightening key to the very secrets of life and death, and something Elderan did think to be respected; the tales and legends of those who had traversed this same path echoing strongly in his mind and reminding the wizard of the shadowed treachery that did lay in wait.
Elderan believed he understood the weight of their quest most profoundly, and as he walked, pondered upon the motives that had brought each of them deep into Noem's domain. Althea, he understood, even if he did not agree; the witch's heart aching for a love that no other could replace, seeking the Stone to see if she could bring her husband back. But Zeno... he was another matter entirely. His arrogance was palpable, his belief in his own superiority over others irritatingly clear - and if not multiplied since he'd become the newest master of the Elder Wand.
Zeno, Elderan knew, desired the Stone only for power; for the sheer audacity of having all four of Death's artifacts under his command.
But that still left Elderan himself.
As much as the wizard may not have believed in the other's decisions for seeking the Resurrection Stone, he understood that he could not stop them. He himself had his own reasons for being there, a personal quest to understand death and how to accept it. Despite being the current master of Death's Cloak, Elderan felt unworthy of possessing such an artifact for he truly feared death - feared dying.
"Remember, Zeno," Althea's voice, calm and measured, broke through the silence; drawing Elderan's mind back to the present just in time for him to see the witch place a halting hand upon their friend's shoulder after Zeno had needlessly broken a branch off a tree that had been hanging just a smidge too low and far too much trouble for him to have ducked under. "We are here to claim the Stone, not to desecrate this place. We must tread carefully and with respect."
"Respect?" Zeno scoffed as he tossed the broken branch aside, his grip on the Elder Wand tightening at the same time he brushed off Althea's hand. "This place owes us respect. With the power of the Wand and Cloak, are we not invincible?"
Elderan's gaze flickered with disapproval as he glanced to his friend. He didn't trust Zeno's motives, and his arrogance was a dangerous trait - especially in a place where Elderan felt humility and reverence were paramount; something of which he also let be known.
"Zeno, this is not about power. The Resurrection Stone is not a toy for your amusement."
"Is it not?" his friend countered, Zeno throwing the words over his shoulder with little care as to who could be listening. "With the Stone and the Dagger, would we not become the very Masters of Death, Elderan? Imagine what we could achieve with such power."
"I did not come here for conquest," Althea interjected cooly, her chin lifting as she met Zeno's glaring gaze unwavering. "I came to see if the Stone could bring back Eldric."
Elderan felt his heart ache at the mention of Eldric, Althea's husband. Eldric had been Althea's entire world, and his death had left a void that none could hope to fill. Elderan understood Althea's desperation, but the Resurrection Stone... he knew it was not the solution she was after but instead temptation - a test that would look upon her acceptance of death; a test, Elderan knew, they would all fail.
"Althea, you know that the Stone cannot truly bring him back. He would be but an echo, a shadow of his former self; not real."
"I know, Elderan," the witch admitted quietly, her eyes softening with a haunting sorrow. "But sometimes... sometimes even an echo is better than silence."
Sighing, Elderan could feel the weight of their collective hopes and fears pressing down on him. He was the guardian of Death's Cloak, a mantle that came with the responsibility to protect, yet he himself feared death more than anyone he knew. Elderan felt unworthy of the Cloak, constantly haunted by the dread of dying, and knew that his journey was much more of confronting his own fears than it was about possessing the Stone.
As the trio ventured deeper into the forest, shadows grew longer; the air colder - becoming thick with a kind of magick that seeped into bones and made hairs on arms and necks stand on end. Elderan could feel the chill intensifying with every step he took, causing the wizard to pull the Invisibility Cloak tighter around not only himself, but that of his friends; its magick providing a comforting shield against the forest that seemed to close in around them, strange whispers echoing through the trees while ghostly apparitions flickered at the edge of their vision - spirits watching, waiting.
Though still they pressed on, their determination unwavering, until, finally, they arrived at a clearing; a place where the very air seemed to sing with an ancient magick. At the very centre of this clearing stood a single altar, one intricately carved with runes and symbols long-forgotten by the likes of mortal man. And upon it rested the one and only Resurrection Stone; a dark, gleaming gem that did pulse with an ethereal, inner light.
Elderan's heart pounded in his chest.
This was it, the pinnacle of their journey.
"We've found it," Zeno whispered, his voice filled with awe as all three cautiously approached the altar; Invisibility Cloak still draped over their shoulders and masking their presence from any lurking dangers.
"Eldric..."
Elderan's gaze tore away from the Stone, the wizard pausing by Althea whose own eyes were fixated upon the artifact with a longing that almost broke his heart. And he reached out, placing a comforting hand upon her arm as he asked, "Are you sure about this? Once you pick up the Stone, there is no going back."
Althea barely even looked his way as she nodded, her expression turning resolute. "I have to try, Elderan. I have to see him again, even if he's naught but an echo."
"Enough talk," Zeno, impatient and driven by his own ambitions, did suddenly declare; stepping out from under the Cloak and reaching for the Resurrection Stone. "Let us finally claim what is ours."
"Wait!" Elderan cried, his voice as urgent as his hand as it snapped out to grab Zeno's arm, shrugging off the Cloak as well so that the wandmaster could see him - could see upon the seriousness of his features that did resonate in his voice. "We must be careful, Zeno. This place is sacred. We cannot simply take the Stone without considering the consequences first."
Zeno just shrugged off his grip. "Consequences be damned. This is our prize, our reward for the trials we've faced."
"Zeno, please," Althea cut in as she too revealed herself from under the Cloak's invisible embrace.
"We need to think this through," Elderan continued. "The Stone..." his gaze flickered to the altar, feeling a surge of anxiety at the sense of power emanating from the seemingly innocent-looking pebble; a power unlike anything he had ever encountered before. "It is not just a prize." He tore his gaze back to his friends, to Zeno. "It holds immense power and responsibility."
But Zeno was beyond reason, breaking free from Elderan's grasp when he attempted to stop him a second time as he went for the Stone once more.
As his fingers brushed against the surface of Death's Stone, however, a powerful surge of magick erupted from the altar, knocking all three friends of their feet. The air shimmered with an unearthly light, and the temperature plummeted further; bringing a sudden and unexpected frost to their breaths.
"What's happening?" Althea shouted as she struggled back to her feet.
Zeno, undeterred, went for the Stone for a third time. "It's resisting me. But the Elder Wand will-"
Before he could finish, magick surged once more - and a dark figure materialised from the shadows; a being who was shrouded in an aura of deathly cold and whose form was both majestic and terrifying - a towering, muscular body of a horse with a powerful, humanoid upper torso; a seamless blend of man and beast that was cloaked in swirling shadows that did absorb any and all light.
It was a Shadow Centaur and the very embodiment of Death Himself; a being whose presence did command immediate silence and heart-stopping fear.
Noem's equine limbs were sleek and muscular, black as the void and with hooves that seemed to melt into the shadows beneath Him, while His more human-like torso was draped in tattered, spectral garments that flowed like liquid night. His mane was naught but a cascade of obscurity, merging with the shadows that clung to Him like a second skin, and His eyes were but pits of inky darkness; an otherworldly blue-black that glimmered with an inner light.
In His hands was a spectral scythe, its blade shimmering with an ethereal glow, and every movement He made exuded a cold, unyielding power; something of which had a profound effect on the three friends. The air grew heavier, laden with the weight of ages, and an overwhelming sense of dread settled on the trio's shoulders.
Elderan felt his knees buckle, the icy grip of fear rooting him to the spot, while Althea, her usual confidence stripped away, stared wide-eyed and speechless at the apparition. Zeno, however; his bravado and resolve having been shaken but not broken, only tightened his grip on the Elder Wand - though even his hands now trembled.
Noem's voice, when He spoke, did resonate with the finality of a thousand lifetimes. His words echoed through the air, each syllable a cold whisper of inevitable doom and rumble of distant thunder.
"Which of the living dare disturb the peace of those who are rightfully dead?"
Zeno, despite the chilling presence of Death Himself, and driven by an insatiable determination, could only jut out his chin; ignoring the fear that now gnawed at his core as he declared, "I am Master Zeno and current wielder of the Elder Wand. I seek the Stone to-"
"The Stone of Mortal Defiance grants not protection, but that of temptation." Noem's eyes glowed brighter - blacker - as He cut the wizard off, a hoof pawing at the shadowed ground in a show of His dissatisfaction towards Zeno's reply. "Are you truly prepared to face that in which you do so desire, of the very consequences of your so-called power and might; he of whom does proclaim himself master of the Wand from Death's own Tree?"
"I am prepared for anything," Zeno, with a mixture of pride and growing defiance, did avow at the same time he dared raise the Elder Wand toward Death Himself. "Have I not already claimed the Elder Wand as my own? It is the most powerful weapon in existence, and with it I am invincible. I will become the Master of Death."
"Power begets arrogance, and arrogance begets downfall," Noem did decree, a small frown beginning to tug at His features. "The Elder Wand may indeed grant you strength, but it also paints you as a target for those who seek such power. The Stone will not grant you the protection you seek, wandmaster, only the ruin you have willingly invited upon yourself."
"I seek power, not protection!" the wizard continued, ignoring the ominous warning he'd been given as he reached for the Stone for the fourth and final time.
Unlike the first three times, and as Zeno's fingers closed around the Resurrection Stone's obsidian surface, a chill suddenly ran through his form; colder than that of the darkest winter's night - and sent his heart racing with a fear he had never harboured before.
He felt an overwhelming surge of strength, but also a shadow; a dark presence that seemed to wrap itself around his soul. Visions of betrayal, of death and bloodshed - of his very own demise at the hands of another seeking the very magick that he did now possess, that now ran through his veins - flashed through Zeno's mind. Yet still he held on, refusing to be cowed by such imaginative hallucinations.
"Elderan, Althea, witness the very powers that will make me the Master of Death!" he shouted, his voice ringing with manic triumph.
Yet, as he lifted the Stone from its resting place, an unexpected shiver of cold dread pierced through the clearing. The trees around the group begun to whisper with unseen forces, the ground itself trembling, and the very light of Noem's Stone flickered; casting eerie shadows that danced with malevolent intent.
Suddenly, the Resurrection Stone burned, turning white-hot in Zeno's hand and causing the wizard to drop it with a cry of pain. At the same time, the shadows of the clearing - the very flickers of darkness that had ever-persisted at the corners of the trio's eyes - grew thicker, and from their midst emerged figures; not of the living, yet also not truly of the dead either, but phantoms of those who had met a cursed end at Zeno's hand.
As the shades of the fallen foes surrounded the wandmaster, their eyes hallow and faces twisted into that of silent accusation, Zeno tried to raise Death's Wand - tried to defend himself. But his arm felt suddenly heavy, his strength sapped by the very powers of his own ambitions.
The phantoms closed in, and with a final anguished scream, the leader and most powerful of the three friends was dragged into the trees before vanishing from sight. And the Elder Wand, something of which Zeno had so confidently declared would make him invincible, clattered to the ground; now useless without a deserving master.
Althea, seeing her friend's fate, was filled with a mixture of fear and sorrow. Yet, as she turned from where Zeno had vanished and back to the altar and very Stone that had taken the wandmaster from them, desperation was soon to mingle upon her already tortured features.
"A love lost to the Veil cannot truly be regained, Althea," Noem did intone gently, His voice tinged with a knowing sorrow that did cause the young witch to look up from the Stone. "The Resurrection Stone may indeed bring back whom you do so wish, but not as you remember. They would be naught but a shadow of their former self, and a reminder of what has naturally passed into the Immortals Shade can never be regained."
"Surely love conquers all," was all Althea could utter, stepping forth with a courage she did not quite feel and plucking the Stone from its resting place. And as she turned it over in her hand, studying its surface as she rolled it between her fingers once, twice, three times, the air around her shimmered - and a figure began to materialise; a man whose splendour was ethereal, yet whose gaze beheld an unearthly sadness.
Althea's heart leapt with joy at the sight of her beloved Eldric. Though, and as she reached out to take him into her embrace like she had done many times in the past, he recoiled, his touch cold - distant.
"Why is it you seek me, Althea?" Eldric whispered, his voice filling the clearing with an undeniable sorrow.
"I couldn't bear to be without you, my love. I needed to see you again, to hold you, so much it hurts."
Eldric' eyes were filled with an eternal sadness, something of which sent a sharp pain jolting through his wife as he whispered, "You cannot stay here, Althea, and I cannot return with you. You must let go. Our time together was and will forever be wonderful, yet you still have so much to live for."
The weight of his words slowly sunk into Althea's mind - her heart like icy daggers, and her knuckles turned white around the Resurrection Stone; eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and desperation. She shook her head stubbornly, unwilling to accept what it was she was hearing - what her husband was saying.
"No, Eldric. I refuse to accept this. There has to be another way. The Stone brought you here, brought you back to me. I can fell you here with me now, and we can be together again, just as before."
"Althea, my love..." Eldric' form flickered, his sorrowful gaze piercing into his wife's soul. "You must understand. This existence... it is not life, not living. It is but a mere echo, a shadow of what was. Our love, it was- it is real, but you must not let it tether you to a world of shadows and loss."
"I cannot let you go," Althea revealed, her voice growing almost frantic with her desperation. "You were- are my everything. Without you, there is nothing but emptiness. We can find a way, I'm certain. With the power of the Stone-"
"The Stone is a curse, Althea," Eldric interrupted. "It does not restore life; only prolongs the agony of separation. I am here, yes, but I not here - not whole. And neither will you remain to be so if you continue down this path."
Tears welled up in Althea's eyes as she reached out, trying to touch her husband again. Yet her fingers passed through his form, the coldness of the contact a stark reminder of Eldric' spectral nature - and the truth of his words.
"No, no, there must be a way. I will do anything. Just, please, don't leave me again."
"Althea, my love. Your devotion moves me deeply," the spectral wizard moved closer to the witch, his translucent hand raising to gently hover near his wife's cheek; not quite touching yet close enough for him to feel the warmth of her presence. "But my place is no longer with the living," he continued, hand dropping as he stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between them. "You must let go, for your own sake. Embrace the life you have left. Live, love again, and remember our time together as cherished memories, not that of a chain binding you to sorrow."
Althea's shoulders slumped as the distance between them grew, her resolve beginning to crumble under her husband's undeniable truth.
"But how can I live without you?" she asked - begged. "How can I go on knowing that you are here, naught but a shadow of the wizard you once were?"
"You are stronger than you realise, Althea," Eldric whispered, his voice a soothing balm amidst the aching pain. "You have friends who need you, and a future that awaits. Letting me go does not mean forgetting me. It means honouring our love by living your life to the fullest."
Tears fell freely now, Althea's grip on the Stone loosening.
"B-But I don't want to lose you."
Eldric' form shimmered, yet his smile was soft and filled with the love he felt for his wife. "You never will. I am always with you; in your heart, your memories. Carry me there always, and I will never truly be gone."
"I will never forget you, Eldric."
"Nor I you," the wizard whispered, his form beginning to fade. "Live, Althea, for the both of us."
The tears streamed down Althea's face as the form of the one she loved with all her heart shimmered; flickering before her eyes with the undeniable and heartbreaking truth. This man before her, this wizard, was yet was also not her husband; naught more than a shade and pale imitation of the man she'd once known.
In her grief, the witch dropped the Resurrection Stone, falling to her knees. Her heart broke anew, the truth fading before her eyes until Eldric was gone and she was once again alone in her longing and sorrow.
Elderan watched on silently, his heart heavy with sorrow after having witnessed his friend's anguish unfold. The air was thick with the chill of loss as the spectral remnants of Eldric' form dissipating into the aether, and Althea's sobs echoed loudly through the clearing; the sound that of a heart rebreaking under the weight of the finality and truth that was death.
Zeno had been consumed by his ambitions, Althea crushed by the weight of her own grief, and Elderan could feel the immense weight of his own quest pressing down on his shoulders; a mantle he feared he was not worthy to bear.
The clearing was a place of profound magick, the air alive with the whispers of ancient spirits and the lingering echoes of those who had come before. The wizard could feel the power of the Resurrection Stone pulsating through the ground beneath his feet, a beacon of temptation that called out to the deepest fears and darkest desires within him.
But as the current guardian of Death's Cloak, Elderan knew he was there for a purpose far greater than his own understanding, and drawing a deep breath, he placed a comforting hand on Althea's shoulder; feeling the lingering chill of Eldric' presence seep through his robes. He knew there were no words that could ease his friend's pain, no magick that could mend her broken heart; his presence, steady and unwavering, being all he could offer in that single moment of despair.
Yet...
"Tell me." The wizard's voice, though soft, carried the weight of his own fears and quests as he turned his gaze to Noem. "What is the true purpose of Your relic?" he asked, eyes flickering for but a moment to the Stone before returning to the Shadow-Centaur and very embodiment of Death.
Dark eyes glimmered with an eerie, inner light as they regarded Elderan; a contemplative flicker flashing across shadowed features, and the spectral scythe in Noem's hands shimmered in the dimming light, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts around them as He passed it from one hand to the other. His very presence seemed to magnify at the question asked, and Elderan felt a chill run down his spine as He began to speak.
"The Stone of Resurrection has never been about 'resurrection'. It is but one of four tests that witness one's acceptance of mortality; stripping away the layers of wealth and power and strength one may hold within the realm of mortals and leaving naught but the truth of life and death in its wake... along with, of course, the folly of seeking to undo the natural order and going against the very Zevake Themselves."
Elderan listened intently, his heart ponding in his chest. He had always feared death, feared dying; a fear that had plagued him since he'd been but a boy. And despite having inherited Death's Cloak, become the very master of a mantle that did represent protection and power, Elderan had always felt unworthy of the role because of his dread of the unknown - of the 'what comes after'.
The Cloak had chosen him, yes, but Elderan had never felt it was truly his to bear.
"But, then, why create it?" he still dared to ask, his voice trembling. "Why create such an artifact if not to bring back the dead?"
Noem's expression softened, a rare glimpse of sorrow flickering in His eyes. "The dead have never belonged with the living, Elderan. Even those once mortal yet who now walk the path of immortals have had their ties cut from their own mortality, including that of death. And those that seek to defy My Father's decree by use of unnatural or selfish means... well, Time does eventually catch up to them in the end."
Despite himself, Elderan felt his lips twitch upwards at the corners. "Time," he repeated, the words heavy and filled with meaning. "You mean your brother."
There was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at Noem's own features as He inclined His head. "Like that of Our Parents, Chronos and I are but two sides of the same coin; all six but different faces of a die. Where I bring balance between beginnings and ends, He brings the passage of moment and the inevitability instants that come with it. But together, My Brother and I, We help to weave Our Sisters' vast tapestry; each thread of life, each knot of death."
A contemplative silence fell over the clearing, the weight of Noem's words sinking deep into Elderan's soul. He had always feared death, the unknown abyss that lay beyond the veil of mortality; a fear that had been naught but a forever and constant, gnawing presence in the back of his mind. And as he looked to the Stone of Resurrection, his gaze instead fell onto the Invisibility Cloak that had been discarded upon their arrival.
The wizard felt his eyes close against his will.
"Why me?" he whispered, his voice cracking with his emotions. But he took a deep breath, trying to steel himself against the truth that only Death Himself could speak, as he added, "Why did the Cloak have to choose me, if I am so afraid of death?"
"Fear is a natural part of living. It is what drives one to protect life, to love so fiercely, to seek meaning, and to cherish every moment they have," Noem revealed softly. "Even the Ancient Ones feel fear- I feel fear. But it is something I treasure, for few immortals get to experience such an emotion."
Elderan's head jerked up at the idea that Death treasured the feeling of fear - that He even felt such a thing almost inconceivable to hear, and Noem chucked at his wide-eyed expression; the sound like distant thunder and sent shivers rippling through the air.
"Death is but the end of life; fear apart of both, Elderan. It is a natural conclusion, and for immortals who have tasted upon such an experience, it is something we tend to treasure. Fear is an intrinsic aspect of existence, even for one such as I. The fear of death, the fear of the unknown, of what lies beyond that of My Father's Veil... even I fear that which I do not know. But to experience fear does not make one unworthy, your fear does not make you undeserving; it makes you mortal."
"My Cloak did not choose you because you are fearless, but because you possess the strength and courage to face your fears - to confront death. You seek understanding and acceptance, not ownership or corruption," Noem's free hand gestured to the Resurrection Stone that still lay where Althea had dropped it, "And it is your humility that what makes you truly worthy."
"But how can we understand something that is beyond our experience? How can we accept what we cannot know?"
"Understanding does not always come through experience alone, Elderan. Sometimes, it is through acceptance that our limitations and the acknowledgement of our fears that we find true wisdom. The Cloak chose you because you have the potential to see beyond the fear, to recognise that death is not an end, but a transition, and that, just as the coin and its two sides, it too is just another part of life; one of two sides of the never-ending cycle."
"So," Elderan pondered Noem's words, feeling a flicker of comprehension dawning, "It's about finding meaning in life, and through that, coming to terms with death?" he questioned.
"Live fully, love deeply, and seek wisdom," Noem did agree. "And in doing so, you will find that death is not something to be feared, but instead that of a natural conclusion to a life well-lived."
"But what if I still fear?" Elderan continued to ask, his gaze returning to the Cloak at the same time his mind turned to those he had once known and loved. He had always been driven by a desire to protect and understand, but had never truly confronted his own fears; something of which did echo in his voice as he added, "I feel terrified. I fear the unknown, the finality of death."
His eyes lifted back to Noem, beseeching the Shadow-Centaur to offer the answers he did so seek, his throat becoming tight with emotion. "Ho-how can I be strong- worthy enough of such a mantle?"
The Titan stepped closer, His hooves seemingly floating over the ground even though they looked to be one with His very shadow. And as His dark eyes met Elderan's, they were filled with a deep and ancient understanding. "You are more worthy than you believe, young mortal. And strength, it is not the absence of fear, but instead that of the will to move forward despite it. Fear is a natural part of living, and not something one can eradicate but only learn to understand and accept. To embrace your fears is to let them guide you towards a far greater wisdom, and it is through this journey of acceptance does one discover peace."
"Your journey, mortal, is not just one of mastering death, but that of embracing life in all its complexities and uncertainties; of which you have faced many already and have grown stronger from. My Cloak-" as if summoned, the silky yet translucent Invisibility Cloak floated gently from where it had been discarded and settled into Noem's outstretched hand, "-chose you because it saw upon your courage and willingness to learn; to accept the natural order of all things and your ability to confront and transcend that of your fears. Take it now, not as a symbol of fear, but as a testament to your courage."
Elderan looked up at Noem, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But what if I fail?" he whispered. "What if I can't overcome my fear?"
Noem reached out to the wizard, His scythe vanishing as He resettled the Cloak back around Elderan's shoulders and where He currently did believe it belonged. His touch lingered, cold but not unpleasant; a reminder of the ever-present reality of His domain. "Failure is but a part of living, Elderan, and it is through your failures that you learn, that you may become stronger. You will certainly face many trials, and yes, you may also falter. But you will also arise after each miss-step, for you will come to learn that death is not an end, but that of a transformation. Every life ends in death, but from death does new life arise. It is the cycle of existence, written into the very fabric of the cosmos, and is but a balance that must always be maintained."
"The path you now walk is not an easy one, but if you embrace this truth, you will find the strength you seek. You are worthy, Elderan," Noem continued as He took a step back, appraising His work despite only able to see the wizard from the head up. "Go forth and live a life of meaning. Protect those you love and seek the wisdom that comes from understanding and accepting the cycle of life and death."
Elderan took a deep, shuddering breath; the weight of Noem's words settling into his bonds. It was true, he had already faced many challenges in his life, yet this internal struggle was perhaps the most profound; having always feared the unknown, along with that of the finality of death.
But, perhaps there was a different way to view it, to see that which he did fear most as a journey towards understanding and acceptance; a path that would not be completed in a single, defining moment in time, but as a continuous process of growth and reflection.
Perhaps, instead of him seeing death as the ultimate 'ending', Elderan could see it as a part of the greater tapestry of existence; a necessary thread in the vast and intricate design that the very Four Children had woven together.
"Will you guide me?" he asked in nothing more than a whisper, tugging the Cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Will you help me understand?"
Noem's eyes glimmered with a rare warmth, and He nodded a single nod in acceptance. "I can help guide you, but the journey is one you and you alone must take. It must be you who walks upon the mortal plane, to face your fears, and one day be called back to Our Father's domain. Only then, can I promise, will you truly understand the power of the Cloak, and the reason it felt you best suited as its Guardian, even if for but a lifetime."
Elderan could only nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over him; a peace he had not felt in a long time. Though his fear of death was far from being vanquished, he now understood it was but a part of his journey - a companion that would help guide him towards understanding all of life's mysteries.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting the Titan's with a newfound gratitude and determination.
"True strength comes from understanding and acceptance," Noem replied with another incline of His head, a gesture of acknowledgement and respect. "You have the strength within you, Elderan. Do not forget this: trust in yourself, and you will always find your way."
Tightening the Cloak further around his shoulders, Elderan took a much needed, cleansing breath before he turned back to Althea, who'd remained kneeling on the ground; sobs having quietened to soft, heart-wrenching murmurs. He knelt beside the witch, his presence a steadying force despite the mantle of invisibility draped over his shoulders.
"Althea," he murmured gently, an unseen hand coming to rest on the middle of her back.
"I love him so much, Elderan," the witch sniffed, barely lifting her red and swollen eyes from the ground. "I thought... I thought I could bring him back."
Elderan's heart ached at the sorrow that Althea's words were all but drenched in. Yet the wizard knew that she had to face the truth - that they could not linger any more than they already had. "Eldric is at peace now, Althea. You must find a way to live without him, to honour his life by living the rest of yours to the fullest. He would not want you to be consumed by grief."
"I-I don't know if I can."
Elderan gave his friend a small but reassuring smile, glancing back to Noem as he said, "You can only try. I-I know it will be hard, but... but you're not alone." He held out his hand. "We have each other, do we not? Let us leave this place - together. We will find a way to move forward, Althea, I'm sure. Just takes that first, single step."
