They say the dead never die…
Damon never believed that. After all, all who died never returned—at least as far as he knew. That was why even seeing Carn Vale right in front of him… despite the shock of it all, like seeing an old haunt…
He still knew this wasn't real. It was just an illusion conjured by the marsh. It wanted to breed doubt in his heart… it wanted him to make noise… to break the silence of the marsh with its ghost.
Why else would it bring out the mory of the kind hunter?
His beard and face still looked the sa as Damon rembered. The old man still just as well-built, wearing the sa worn hunting gear from that day… the day they t… the day Damon killed him.
Damon lowered his head…
Carn smiled. "Why can't you look at , little fella… are you feeling guilty…?"
Damon bit his lips and continued walking forward… surrounded by glowing moss… his party right behind him. They didn't seem to see the kind hunter.
"I suppose you won't… after all, you don't have a conscience… how could you? You killed soone who only showed you kindness…"
Carn's smile faded. He stepped in front of Damon.
"No surprise you would awaken a class as vile as Death Dealer… a rchant in blood… a dealer in death… it's all you know how to do—take."
Damon paused, his body refusing to move. His party behind him stopped as well, waiting… watching.
Sylvia sent him a telepathic ssage.
"Is sothing wrong…"
He shook his head, walking around Carn.
The hunter smiled. "My poor daughter… she was orphaned for no reason… simply because I decided to help you… a strange kid in the woods…"
Damon bit down harder… the taste of blood on his lips.
He knew it was all in his head. Even so… he wanted to defend himself… but no words ca.
'I… I was… I was just trying to survive…'
He thought the words—but no sound ca from his lips.
"You did, didn't you?" Carn said coldly. "By killing soone who had never done you harm… I wasn't even indifferent to your pain like the others… I was trying to help you…"
Damon nodded slowly.
"I know… I know… I… I didn't…"
"You didn't what?" Carn spat, his voice suddenly sharp—harsh in a way the real Carn never was.
"Didn't an to kill ? You did. You knew from the mont you got that power—it demanded human souls and flesh. And what did you do? You trapped yourself in denial. You were complacent. You were weak. And I had to pay the price…"
He paused.
"No… Iris had to pay the price. You took her father away from her…"
"How do you even look her in the eye and lie..."
Damon trembled. Even with the tactical precision of the Remorseless skill, his emotions surged, unable to be suppressed.
He walked across the moss, his face pale and his steps heavy.
"Did you think taking her under your wing would make up for it? You pushed her down the path of an avenger—gave her a long list of enemies to kill—but you forgot to include yourself… her so-called teacher…"
Damon's heart went cold. Carn…
He gritted his teeth.
Carn looked past him, to Damon's party.
"You must be hungry again, you cannibal…"
He gestured behind Damon.
"These fools are following you… maybe they should know you're a monster too. The mont you get hungry—they're food."
Damon's hands trembled. He was hungry. But he wouldn't… he wouldn't eat his party.
Never… never…
"I won't… I won't… I have…"
"Not changed. By the ti this is over, one of them will die by your hand. That—I promise you."
Damon took a deep breath… his eyes burning.
"I won't… I won't… You aren't even the real Carn Vale. You're just all my doubts taking shape…"
"Am I"
He looked up, thoughts louder—firr.
"This part of the marsh is called the Mire of Self-Doubt. You're just my doubts."
Damon raised his head higher.
"I can't make peace with my past, so I continue to move forward. I'm not Carn Vale, so I can't embody his philosophy—but I can make mine…"
"Kindness is reciprocal… but so is malice…"
He stood taller, eyes sharp. "I carry my sha and my doubt like a mantle… even if they eat away at my flesh. I carry every na I've slain as a shadow in my heart… never forgetting."
Carn looked at him quietly…
Then vanished—dissolving into mist that spread outward, flowing over the others in his party… each now trapped in their own illusions.
So more intense than others, but as they reached the end… of the marsh, they all remained themselves—keeping their doubts to themselves, save for one.
Matia's fist remained clenched, the doubts had hamred away at her in the shape of her father… so much she wanted to scream. Even so, she remained —stalwart… unshaken…
As they reached the edge of the marsh… the water changed, darkened, and her father's voice echoed—low, accusing—as she overca her doubts…
"You will die, Matia, you will lose those wings you didn't give to your brother…"
Matia felt herself falling—without end. Her head bleeding, her vision hazy as she looked up at a bleak, colorless sky… she felt herself being dragged into a tiless darkness…
She saw her corpse… she saw her party mourn… her death… she saw Damon's eyes—dark and lightless… She saw sothing beyond her death… and her na carved in stone…
She jolted—her head trembling as she ripped herself away from the illusion… her skull throbbing like it had been cracked open… it felt so real…
She bit her lips, hard—blood welled up—as she finally heard a sound she didn't think she'd ever hear again… it was the howling wind… she felt the ground turn solid beneath her boots…
Damon stood in front of them—his fist clenched—he turned around for the first ti since they had walked into the silent marsh…
"We made it… we made it across the marsh… we made it… we are just three kiloters away from Lysithara…"
Xander stabbed his spear into the ground, leaning heavily on it…
"We… we actually survived a death zone… we survived the Whispering Woods… we're almost… ho…"
The others followed, collapsing to their knees. A week of sleepless nights, hunger, fear, and horrors too painful to na—all crashing down at once.
But they had made it.
They were still alive.
For now.
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