Charon slowly stepped forward as a thousand eyes turned to face him.
'I swear to all the gods I'll get you back for this!'
He smiled sheepishly as a few men cheered at his approach.
Stopping next to Emerius, the tall man gave him a wide grin before melding back into the throng of bodies, leaving Charon alone.
'Yeah, run you coward!'
The priest raised his arms at Charon's arrival.
"It seems we have our first volunteer! He appears to be a conscript, taken to serve in our king's army! Blessings be upon him, for he has shown his valor in the face of Death!"
The crowd responded instantly, echoing the priest.
"Blessings be upon him!"
A flick of the robed man's wrist calmed them, his every movement carefully watched.
"Come forward, young one, and kneel."
Charon gingerly took a few steps before lowering himself to one knee, taking care not to cover any of the runes. His knee sank into the cloth, the mud beneath cold and wet.
'I need a guide for this place's customs! I don't want to do something stupid and get kicked out, or worse! Who knows what kind of punishments come to those who dishonor the God of Death?'
He knew that in the modern world, the God of Death was by far the most mysterious, but Charon had never heard anything negative about him.
Whether that would hold up for his more primitive followers remained to be seen.
Without warning, the priest moved behind Charon and placed his hands firmly onto his back.
All Charon felt was a slight prickling sensation, followed by cold air on his spine, while everyone else saw his chainmail and tunic wither away in seconds.
'What's going on back there-'
His question was cut short by an intense pain.
He felt reality fade away around him as the setting sun was replaced with a midnight sky, only a few twinkling stars keeping endless darkness at bay. Even the noise vanished, only silence remaining.
A pressure weighed down on his mind. It felt both alien and familiar, as if he had seen it a thousand times and never at all.
'What's… What's… happening…'
The words moved through his head slowly, the pressure somehow applying to his thoughts as well.
Charon tried to look around but found it impossible to move, his body held in place by an invisible force, one far too powerful to overpower.
Although he had not seen anyone, he instinctively knew he wasn't alone in this place, and that he was no longer in the presence of mere mortals.
As fast as the presence came, it left, thrusting Charon back onto the field he had come from, the yelling of the soldiers returning in full force.
He fell forward, his hands shaking and his mind in complete disarray. His back felt warm and tingled, a new sensation slowly traveling through his tensed limbs.
A single thought ran through his brain.
'Who the hell did I just feel the presence of??'
It was a power he knew was beyond anything he could imagine, something so complete that it felt larger than the world itself. It touched his heart and soul equally, expanding his definition of possible by leaps and bounds.
'How could that happen? Did the trial just simulate it? Was it even real?'
All the uncertainties kept him locked in place, lying in front of everyone.
The priest strode to his side, his gait slow and methodical, before he leaned down and whispered in his ear.
"It is unusual that my god has shown you such favor; you would be wise to appreciate it. Learn your gifts, and grow them, for he certainly has much in store for you."
Without any further explanation, the robed man straightened and spoke to the crowd in a booming voice.
"Death has chosen to bless this man with a Sigil, one of notable power! Let his example serve as proof of our god's appreciation for his disciples!"
Charon felt someone pull him to his feet and throw one of his arms over a shoulder, before he was dragged away from the ritual circle.
Limply turning his head to acknowledge whoever helped him, a gruff voice stalled him.
"Don't speak, you have had an experience that will take a few hours to overcome. Save your energy. You will need it for the assault."
Time seemed to speed up as Charon found himself sitting beside a fire, his eyes unfocused and lost in the flame's crimson tendrils.
Questions came and went, with explanations always too shallow or too slow to keep up, his worldview changing rapidly.
'The power… I've never felt such power…'
Although he hadn't actually seen a physical form, he had sensed it as if there was one. As real as any touch or smell, it had been there, all around him.
And it had given him something new and wondrous, something that would make him unique.
After an indeterminate amount of time, he felt someone new sit across from him, but he was still unable to properly focus on the man's face.
Even without his sight, he instinctively knew who it was, the knowledge coming to his mind from a place he didn't know he had.
There was an essence about Emerius, a strange energy coming off of him and letting Charon know he was there.
As if that wasn't strange enough, he could feel it all around him, dozens of different energy sources moving about the camp.
"Well, that was pretty unexpected. I didn't see you do a whole lot during the battle, yet something had to have drawn the attention of Death."
Emierius scoffed.
"And here I was thinking he would have called me forward to receive a Mark, possibly even a Glyph."
The flamboyant warrior tutted loudly.
"You showed me up, Charon, and that's pretty impressive. Whatever you did, keep doing it, and you might even earn yourself a place in the Dark City."
Charon heard the words clearly, yet his mouth struggled to respond, each word coming out slurred.
"I just… tried to survive…"
Emerius chuckled.
"It's not often that I see a soldier of Death worried too much about surviving, but I suppose conscripts will have a different view of it than us willing participants."
Charon sensed him stand up and move to the other side of the fire to grab something, kneeling down to rustle through a simple pack, so he rolled his head to try and make out what was happening.
"That's impressive. It usually takes far longer for the recently blessed to regain their sense of sight. You must be quite resilient."
Charon rolled his head back and forth in disagreement.
"Can't see, but can feel."
Emerius froze in place, turning back to look directly at Charon's still form, his hands limply holding whatever it was he had grabbed.
"What do you mean you can feel where I am?"
Charon felt a shift in the man's tone, the upbeat and energetic visage abandoned for a more cold and direct approach.
"I can feel your energy, and everyone else's, at least those nearby. Can't you?"
He sensed Emerius's approach.
"No, I can not."
The man crouched down next to Charon, hovering right in front of his face, his gaze cold, but not threatening.
"What does it feel like?"
Charon had to take a minute to consider the question, closing his eyes as he let the sensation guide him.
"It feels strange, like everyone around me has a ball of energy in them, and I can feel where it is. It's not warm or cold, but at the same time, I know it has a texture, I just can't figure it out."
Emerius shook his head.
"Yeah, that's not so good, my friend, but that's for you to figure out in time."
Charon felt him sit down, only a few feet away.
"Take some advice, and don't tell anyone else what you can sense. The armies of Death are not known for being judgmental; we all die after all, yet I have a distinct feeling they would find your aspect… distasteful."
The sound of a bottle clinking followed his ominous statement, and the gulping of heavy drinking clued Charon into his ally's actions.
'Drinking? Aren't we supposed to be resting before a battle? And what kind of warning was that?'
Charon had the strange feeling that he had done something wrong, even if he didn't know what it was.
His thoughts were stalled as the bottle found his lips, his head already tilted back to rest, and the bitter taste of some strange drink entered his mouth.
"Drink up, it'll help you sleep."
Charon gagged as he choked the burning liquid down, his throat contracting as he struggled not to spit it out. He rolled his head away to avoid any more, unsure what the beverage even was.
Emerius then stood, taking the bottle with him as he sauntered off, Charon sensing his every step.
"We have a long day ahead of us. Rest up, Charon, as yours will be longer than most."