Rwaine froze. His blood turned cold instantly, and his chest grew too tight to draw a proper breath. Lazarus had looked straight at him.
How could he see him? Was that even possible? His body stiffened like stone, every instinct screaming for him to vanish, yet his feet refused to move.
"Who are you?" Lazarus' voice thundered through the room, heavy and sharp, bouncing off the walls. The silence that followed was deafening.
Rwaine's mind spun. His tongue felt heavy and useless. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"How dare you invade my memories!" Lazarus roared.
Before Rwaine could even blink, Lazarus moved. He lunged with the ferocity of a beast, his hand clamping around Rwaine's throat.
In one violent motion, he slammed him against the wall so hard that the stone cut into his back. Air rushed out of Rwaine's lungs, leaving him choking. His vision blurred as Lazarus' fingers tightened, crushing his windpipe.
*****
Back at the house of mirrors, Latisha leaned over Rwaine's twitching body. His chest rose and fell in uneven jerks, and his eyes flickered rapidly beneath his lids.
"What could be wrong?" she whispered, her voice tight with worry. Her hand hovered before pressing against his chest, feeling the violent tremor of his pulse.
"He's been found out…" her voice sharpened. "I need to bring him back." She began chanting, her words low and urgent, magic humming against the mirrors.
*****
Inside the memory, Lazarus' grip only grew harder. His eyes burned with fury as he snarled, "You're bold. You think I wouldn't know? You think you can stop me?"
His fingers squeezed tighter and black spots clouded Rwaine's sight.
Through the haze, he barely heard Latisha's voice calling faintly:
"Rwaine… I have to bring you back!"
A sudden pull wrenched him free. The memory shattered and Lazarus' face vanished.
Rwaine fell forward into the house of mirrors, coughing violently, clutching his throat. Latisha rushed to him, her fingers shaky.
"Stay calm. He transferred poison into your veins."
Rwaine yanked off his cloak. Horror ripped through him. His veins bulged and glowed faintly red beneath his skin, pulsing like fire.
"What's happening to me?" he gasped.
"Steady, Rwaine." She pressed her palm to his forehead. Her touch was cool, her magic flowing into him like water over flame. His breathing eased, though his heart still hammered.
"How could he see me? He wasn't supposed to. What's going on?" Rwaine demanded, fear breaking through his voice.
Latisha's expression darkened. "He was never supposed to see you. Something is wrong. Lazarus is stronger than I thought."
Rwaine's mind raced back to the memory of the little boy. "I saw an artifact with the child… Could that be the connection?"
"Yes," she hissed. "That's it."
"Then I have to go back," Rwaine said, urgency hardening his tone.
Latisha's eyes widened. "No, Rwaine. You can't. He knows we entered his soul memory. Whoever you saw wasn't just his past self, that was the real Lazarus. He'll kill you. And not only him, everyone there will see you. Entering a soul memory twice is deadly."
"I can't sit still." Rwaine shook his head, though his hands trembled. "He has my friend, and the kingdom will suffer if he keeps taking innocent people."
Latisha's voice softened. "Rwaine, you don't understa—"
"I saw his child. We both had the same golden eyes. And the boy bled black just like me," Rwaine said in confusion.
Latisha's breath caught. Her face twisted with unease. "That's rare… I've never known anyone else to bear the features of the gods except you."
"What really happened that day? Who are these people?" Rwaine asked, desperate for answers.
Her jaw tightened. "I can take you back… but it's too dangerous. The only thing I can do is protect you." She slipped off a necklace, a dark silver chain with a cracked stone and placed it in his hand.
"No matter what happens, don't let this leave your neck until you retrieve the artifact from the child. It may give you a chance against Lazarus, but it isn't certain. You could be injured badly, or worse, die."
Rwaine clenched it tightly. His throat still burned, but his voice held steady. "As long as I can save my friend, I'll take the risk."
Latisha nodded slowly. "Look for the child. But remember, the moment you return, Lazarus will know and he will come for you. Find the artifact, then I'll bring you back."
Rwaine nodded once.
She pressed her hand to his forehead, whispering words that rang like bells in his ears. The mirrors rattled violently. The floor cracked open beneath him and darkness swallowed him whole.
*****
He landed back inside the memory. He was in the same place he'd seen Lazarus with the child but he was the only one standing there. He wasted no time — he ran to the broken floorboard, pried it open, and leapt into the tunnel below.
The ground was stained black, patches smeared like dried blood. Rwaine's stomach twisted. "His son…" he muttered.
He followed the stains until a small figure appeared. A boy crouched behind a cracked statue, trembling and clutching a glowing artifact like his life depended on it.
"Help me, please," the boy whispered, weak and fearful.
"Find them!" a soldier's shout echoed down the tunnel.
Rwaine scooped the boy into his arms, placing him closer. His heart thundered as soldiers stormed past. He hid behind the statue, the boy's shallow breaths warm against his chest. One soldier halted, scanning the shadows looking for them. Rwaine held still and made no sound. Finally, the man turned away.
Rwaine brushed the boy's head gently. "You're safe now." His eyes darted to the artifact glowing faintly in the boy's grip. "Who gave you this?"
"My father," the boy whispered. "He gave it to me on my last birthday… Where is Papa?"
Rwaine's chest ached. He squeezed the boy's hand. "First, we have to save you."
Then Lazarus' voice ripped through the tunnel. "Yakub! Yakub!"
The boy stiffened, eyes wide. "Papa!" He tried to run, but Rwaine placed a hand over his mouth.
"Yakub!" Lazarus' cry grew closer, raw and desperate.
The boy shoved Rwaine's hands aside. "Papa!" He bolted toward the voice.
"No!" Rwaine lunged, but too late. Yakub ran straight into Lazarus' arms.
"Papa!"
Lazarus' eyes snapped toward the shadows. He spotted Rwaine instantly. With a vicious kick, he sent Rwaine flying out of hiding. Pain ripped through his ribs as he crashed against the wall.
Lazarus charged, fury in his stride, and yanked him up by the collar.
The fight began.
Lazarus struck first — his fist slammed into Rwaine's stomach, folding him in half. Rwaine staggered but swung back, knuckles cracking against Lazarus' jaw. They crashed into a stone column, dust raining down. Lazarus slammed him harder into the wall, hands tightening around his throat again.
"You still came back," Lazarus snarled. "Stubborn fool." He shoved tighter.
Rwaine spat black blood into Lazarus' face. Startled, Lazarus loosened his grip, and Rwaine twisted free, driving a fist into his side. But Lazarus was too strong. He grabbed Rwaine, hurled him across the floor, and stalked after him. Rwaine rolled, gasping, pain slicing through his body.
Lazarus loomed, eyes blazing. "You are the same as my son. Why are you here?" His hand pressed against Rwaine's chest. "Answer me!" he screamed.
Rwaine coughed, breath ragged. "I mean no harm."
"Then leave my memory. Never return, and I'll spare you."
"I can't," Rwaine forced out.
Latisha's voice cut faintly through the air: "Rwaine… get the artifact and leave!"
More soldiers stormed in and caught sight of them, they drew out their swords and attacked. Rwaine fought desperately, cutting down soldiers who drew too close. In the frenzy, they even turned their blades against Lazarus.
"Take Yakub and run!" Lazarus roared, shoving the boy toward Rwaine.
"Papa!" Yakub screamed, clinging to his father.
Rwaine dragged him away, heart shattering as the soldiers overwhelmed Lazarus. The leader's blade swung. In one brutal strike, Lazarus' head hit the ground, rolling softly.
Yakub's cries filled the air.
Rwaine whispered, hollow, "So this was what happened to him."
He carried Yakub past the tunnel, their footsteps pounding against the cold stone until they stumbled out into the deep forest.
The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the boy's quiet sobs. They hid behind a thick tree and Rwaine lowered Yakub gently to the ground, his hands steady, his touch careful not wanting to hurt the boy.
The boy wept, clutching the glowing artifact to his chest as though it were life itself.
"Yakub," Rwaine said softly, locking eyes with the boy's golden gaze. "Do you know who those soldiers were?"
"They came from the royal palace," Yakub sobbed, his small body trembling. "I don't know what Father did… but they killed everyone."
Rwaine dropped to one knee beside him. His voice was calm but heavy with sorrow. "Listen to me. Where I come from, your father became a vengeful ghost. But there is a way to end this, to give him peace. I need the artifact you're holding."
Yakub's fingers tightened around it. "It's the only thing I have left of Papa."
"No," Rwaine whispered gently. "You have more. You have his memory — how he protected you, how he loved you. Unlike me… you were never a burden. You were cherished." His throat tightened. "I hid my eyes because people feared me. I was a monster everyone avoided. But you, you were loved."
Yakub's lip quivered. "But… we look the same."
"Yes," Rwaine breathed, leaning closer. "And that's why I need your help. So no one else suffers like this. Please."
The boy hesitated, then slowly, with trembling hands, held out the artifact. His voice cracked. "I hope we meet again."
Rwaine took it, pressing it close against his chest. "We will."
The memory dissolved around him like smoke. Rwaine blinked and found himself back in the house of mirrors, the artifact burning faintly in his hand.
Latisha caught him as he collapsed, pulling him against her chest. He was bleeding, black blood dripping down his sides.
"Thank the gods," she whispered in relief. Her hands shook as she pressed them against his wounds. "But you're injured—"
"I'm fine," Rwaine lied, even as pain twisted his body. His voice was hoarse. "Save my friend."
Her eyes hardened. "No. Your work isn't done. You have to face Lazarus yourself."
The mirrors shattered and the world shifted. It wasn't over yet. Lazarus has to be defeated.
Rwaine now stood in a dark, ruined place. The air was ash, the sky torn apart by lightning.
Around him circled the Riders of the Lost Carriage, their skeletal horses snorting smoke, their hollow eyes fixed on him. At the center, Fanaza and Percival hung bound in thick ropes, pale and weak.
"Fanaza!" Rwaine shouted, running forward. He clawed at the ropes with his bare hands, but they would not break.
"You can't save them," Lazarus' voice boomed like thunder. From the smoke, his figure emerged — tall, imposing, his eyes burning like fire. "I've been waiting for you, the one who dared invade my soul memory. You are one of a kind."
Rwaine pulled out the artifact. The glow lit the darkness and Lazarus froze, his steps faltering. His voice cracked as he whispered: "Yakub…"
"Release them and leave Macabre forever," Rwaine said firmly, lifting the artifact high, "and I will return this to you — the last thing you have of your son."
"How dare you?" Lazarus roared. The ground shook, cracks splitting beneath their feet.
"This is fate enough, Lazarus."
"You don't understand," Lazarus thundered, grief twisting his voice. "This kingdom is rotten! They destroyed me — my family, everything I had!"
"Revenge is not the way," Rwaine shot back. "How many innocents have already died? Isn't that enough?"
"I did this for Yakub!" Lazarus' voice broke with pain.
Rwaine's tone softened. "When I entered your soul memory, I spoke with him. He said he loved you. That he always would."
Lazarus' face crumbled. "Yakub…"
"Just as you love him, I love my friends," Rwaine said. "Let them go."
For the first time, pain overtook rage in Lazarus' eyes. His voice was low. "You don't understand now. But someday, you will. You'll be like me. We are the same. Evil was in us from the beginning."
"No," Rwaine answered, steady and strong. "We are not the same."
"Those golden eyes…" Lazarus shook his head slowly. "They are not a gift. They are a curse. I thought they would make me strong. But they led me to greed, to ruin, to my son's death. They will ruin you too."
Rwaine's chest tightened. "What about my eyes? Who are they?" he was too confused to process everything that Lazarus was saying.
"Some truths are too heavy to bear," Lazarus whispered. "You'll learn when it's time. But now… I've found peace."
His trembling hand reached out and took the artifact from Rwaine. The Riders dissolved into smoke, fading into nothing.
As they disappeared into the thin air, Fanaza and Percival collapsed onto the ground, freed at last.
****
When they woke, they were at the three-junction path. Rwaine was gone.
Percival stirred first, blinking through the haze. His robe was stained with blood, his wounds from the gashadokuro fight reopened.
He turned to Fanaza, still unconscious, and touched her cheek with gentle fingers. A folded note slipped from her dress. He picked it up and read silently:
"I'm sorry, but I have to go. Moaz fell sick and I have to see to him. Lazarus is gone and won't return. Take care of yourself."
Percival closed the note and tucked it inside his robe, hiding the truth from her. Disgust filled his veins as he realized the notes were from Rwaine.
Fanaza moved slowly, her lashes fluttering and she turned to her side meeting Percival's gaze. "Percival?" she whispered weakly.
"Yes," he answered, forcing a smile.
"Where is Rwaine?" Her eyes searched the empty road desperately.
"He left… while you were asleep."
"No goodbye?" Her voice shook. Sadness filled her chest. She had wanted to see him.
"He said Lazarus is gone, and he won't be returning. That's all." Percival pressed a hand to his bleeding side, wincing at the pain.
"Are you hurt?" Fanaza gasped, spotting the blood.
Percival only nodded. She rushed to him, cradling him gently against her.
"Let's go back to the inn," she whispered.