(Planet Ixtal, Inside Soron's Castle, Soron's POV)
For a brief mont after unfolding the letter, Soron did not dare read it.
He simply sat staring at it, the thin parchnt resting in his palm like sothing far heavier than its size could justify, as though the weight of an entire lifeti had been folded into that small rectangle.
The wax seal had cracked slightly with age, yet Charles' handwriting upon the front remained steady, unmistakable, and painfully familiar. *Sniff*
The letter still carried with it the faint scent of smoke.
The sa brand Charles used to frequent, as despite the years having passed, the parchnt still retained a faint sll of that cigarette that he probably smoked while writing this.
'Ha.... This letter sure slls like you, old friend!
Soron thought, as he finally began to read the first lines.
[Old friend... if you are reading this, then I am already dead.
By the ti this reaches you, the Righteous Scum would have likely overrun Juxta, and the Cult would be facing an existential crisis. I am sorry, old friend.
I know what that world ant to you.
I tried to protect it the way you asked to...
but I am not you.
I am only mortal... and I have reached the end of what my mortal limits can do.]
Soron's fingers curled around the edges of the parchnt as he read,
his knuckles whitening slowly.
He had prepared himself for these words.
He knew Charles was gone.
He had known Charles was dead back when he was inside the
blackhole itself, however, while knowing it was one thing, reading it in
Charles' own hand was sothing else entirely.
"...Idiot," Soron whispered, though the word lacked anger.
It trembled with grief instead.
"You should have retreated. Although I cherish Juxta, you were worth more to than every planet under Cult rule."
He whispered, before then forcing himself to continue.
[Do not carry this failure for .
Juxta falling was never your responsibility alone, and it was never mine alone either.
Forging that blade was important.
And if I knew this was going to be the outco of your absence, I'd still choose to do things this way, as I'd gladly sacrifice my life for an Origin Blade, rather than you not having one.]
Charles shared, as Soron felt his eyes water at those words.
Charles knew the risks when he agreed to let Soron leave the Cult, and yet, he did not bla Soron for it.
"This is exactly why I can never replace you, old friend.
For although I may find a more capable warrior,
I'll never find a vice sect master as selfless as you...."
He whispered, as he forced the water in his eyes to dry up before continuing.
[In your absence, the young Dragons have stepped forward big ti,
surprising even .
Rough around the edges, stubborn as hell, reckless in ways that remind far too much of you... but they have that special spark
about them.
The kind of fire you only see once in a few millenia.]
Charles praised, as Soron raised an eyebrow at his words.
[I wish I had more ti to shape them properly.
They probably needed more of than I could give... but fate does not bargain with n like us.
Still, I can say this with all the certainty left in my bones:
If those two survive long enough, the Cult's fla will never die.
They have what it takes.
Both of them.]
Charles wrote, as a faint, shaky exhale left Soron.
He stared at the words for several seconds, letting their truth settle deep inside him.
He had already known Leo possessed the potential for greatness, and that Charles had a special soft corner for the boy, however, what he did not expect was for Charles to praise Veyr so highly as well. [If Leo and Veyr are still alive when you read this...then I have one last request, old friend.
If you still have so life left in you, and you're capable enough of passing down so of your insights to them..... Go out of your way to
do it.
I know you're not big on teaching.
And that you don't like to pass down your insights when it cos to
battle.
But make an exception just this once.
Even if it's for a single sparring session.
Let those two feel what it's like at the summit of universal power.
For I feel like if they see it once themselves, they will surely reach it
so day....]
Charles shared, as Soron shook his head side to side reading those
words.
*Sigh*
"You think that highly of them, huh?"
He muttered, before then chuckling at his own physical condition, as
he absolutely hated the idea of undergoing a sparring session with this dying body, however, resolved to do it regardless, just for Charles.
[Leo in particular, I feel, is the second coming of the Tiless
Assassin.
As even though both boys are talented, that kid is in a league of his
own....
And I know you feel like I'm too biased as his teacher, but believe when I say, this is my honest assessnt of that kid.
For if Leo, with his ntality and talent still can't beco as great as you and your father, then I don't know who can....] Charles wrote, as Soron nodded in agreent to his words.
Although he wasn't sure whether anyone could ever beco a warrior
as great as his father, he did believe Leo had the potential to co
close. With him dying rapidly now, Leo was the man he planned on entrusting the Cult next to, not because he was ready, but because he was the only one left who could possibly endure that burden.
As with Charles gone and his own life fading, he felt like he had no
other choice.
*Sigh*
Exhaling slowly, he turned to the next line on the letter, as the ink in
this section seed more blotted and ssy, as if this were a part that Charles wrote while losing his calm.
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