Charon stumbled to his knees as the visions ended, his legs hitting the onyx floor of the cave hard.
He breathed in a lungful of air before exhaling it, relishing the simplicity of the action, the mists' unforgiving nature scarring him.
A feminine voice called out to him.
"You should not have done that, boy."
Looking up, he saw Achlys leaning against the altar, the pale crown gone from its surface. Her figure was easy to identify as the woman from the vision, yet she was far less detailed, even compared to when he had first met her.
'What happened?'
Before, she was able to reveal herself somewhat in the vague shape of a woman with long hair.
Now, she was barely any different from the other figures in the fog, easily able to be mistaken for part of the crowd.
Despite this, Charon was easily able to envision her as she was, tears flowing from her beautiful eyes.
'That battle must have shaken her…'
