The interruption was unexpected to say the least, but not entirely undesired. The Shade had been seen early on; yet was confident in his abilities he possessed in order to defeat him. Poor, poor deluded Shade. Charon merely grinned in response and watched Dratum slink from the shadows to reveal himself in the dawning of the night –which was a lot brighter than the day for some reason. Everything appeared to have changed as his perception tilted towards the darkness and the energy the Shade used was clear as day –like the white of the moon in the dark sky above. “You’re a fool,” Charon spoke in warning –the words so much like Imaroch had spoken them and he realized his folly. Hadn’t he been exactly like him in a sense?
“I don’t care,” the shadows whispered under Dratum’s command, but if the man had truly been intelligent or strong, cunning maybe, he would’ve gone for the Rose instead. Or maybe he had pondered the idea already and had decided that if he went for the Rose Charon would simply await opportunity and strike with anger unrivalled.
“I take it you’re not here to discus the philosophy on life, are you?” Charon offered casually, even though the darkness was empowering. The Shade had been too late –unfortunately- the darkness had already descended completely and negated the positive effect of dusk he would’ve had in an engaging battle. Now if Charon were Shade himself, attacking at night would have advantages, but as it was, it was a poor misjudging of the situation and an error in judgement on the Shade’s part. “Because if you intend to see what lies beyond; you might consider telling me what it is you think now, for these will be the final words falling from your disgrace.”
The Shade circled the horse, vile shadows trailing his path; coiling and protesting their master like a whimsical child would its parents. Grey eyes saturated with darkness tracked the movement and experimentally tugged the darkness surrounding him, folding the night itself in a sickening manner. The Shade paused; “You are the biggest fool of all, Charon. Imaroch will defeat you –he is older and wiser than you. If you fail to succumb to me; he will grind you to dust.”

Charon laughed; a hollow sound piercing the depth of the night, “He’s old; his darkness will abandon him to come join the younger spirits.” His voice was now one of power, and already the darkness took hold of the shadows, clashed out of sight and fought for control. The silent assassin worked best at night, and his symbols seemed to suck the light from even the stars away, clouding everything around them.
The world changed; Charon could see now how Imaroch had manipulated his mind using the shadows –his minions, submissive to the darkness itself and grinned in success. Dratum charged, Charon’s horse rose –protecting Charon from the direct affront by kicking powerfully with its front legs. The moment Dratum had dodged the horse and wanted to fling a knife to its rider however he came to the conclusion Charon had not sat still. How could he have missed his departure? Paranoid, the Shade glanced around him, searching feverishly for his target. Sullivan had been a force to be reckoned with to start with, but the table had shifted entirely when he had chosen to turn to the darkness.

“The darkness will consume your soul, Sullivan; you’re the fool, you won’t survive,” he threatened, hoping to lure out the other Shade –no, darkness now- so he wouldn’t be instantly surprised at his charge. The horse watched him, calmly staring with big black eyes –just staring, not shifting, nor breathing, and Dratum stepped back; feeling the air shift and change around him.
“And now you die,” Charon whispered in Dratum’s ear but instead of using a weapon the darkness simply stole what had been gifted. Imaroch had attempted the very same with him and Vendetta had only been just in time to rescue his soul, but Dratum had no such back-up. Excruciatingly slowly the shadows gave in, buckled under Charon’s command to return to their source and Dratum screamed silently. It felt like being gifted with Vendetta’s warm energy –maddening and tempting, craving more and more until everything was depleted and only the desire remained. Ashes swept from Dratum as all life was drained, skin, flesh and muscle dissolving into the air like the ashes from a spent fire.
“Life and death,” Charon mused with a sated grin on his face, “Death, preferably, death.”
As the last bit faded into dust Charon glanced back to the road, grinning as he saw Vendetta walk up to him, “I hope you’ve had time to think,” he said in greeting, and held out his hand to the horse. It obeyed and stepped closer; though perhaps the darkness had already killed the beast underneath.

The night came all too quickly for the confused, musing young Rose and yet she remained undisturbed for the moment, walking at a little bit of a hastened pace but she kept perfectly calm, lost in thought. Arine was dead, but why? Elii wasn’t, she didn’t think so anyways but then she could be wrong. She frowned softly and shook her head.

By the time her and Charon would get to Elii’s, no doubt, it would be Arine’s Ceremony. Vendetta grimaced and winced at the idea. Roses never grieved in publically and the family and close friends were given twenty four hours to grieve for their lost loved ones and then came the Celebration of Life. An ancient tradition not even Titov would dare attempt to sabotage, a sacred oath bound that the Ceremony was a time when no fights erupted.

White...Damn... Her thoughts muttered to her. She would have to convince Charon into agreeing with the tradition and he would be accepted, many a Rose and Shade were married these days and she doubted Charon would be the only Shade present at Arine’s Cermony. She hid her grief, an impenetrable mask clouding over her true emotions, Roses never showed grief unless it overwhelmed them. They were healer’s, they had to deal with death every day.

The road seemed to pass so quickly as Vendetta thought and she knew that at least one positive coming from Arine’s death would mean that with the positive attitude and happiness marring over the grief at her Ceremony, would at least give Vendetta a good memory to clutch onto, perhaps even a shared pleasant memory with Charon, should he choose to drop his attitude.

She sighed and looked to the sides of the roads, wary of what lurked in the shadows but oddly, she was not afraid with this new leeched power from Charon and she smiled a little to herself, not with the lust for power, more with the shared memories she thought of and she saw Arine’s smiling face. Elii had always looked after her well and he had become her adopted father in a way. She knew the family well. The mother deceased, not the daughter too but Elii and his son, Draik, would welcome her and they would welcome Charon, as long she stated he was under her charge.

Then again, it could get awkward, Vendetta and Draik had often been seen as a kindling spouse but of course, Vendetta had left the home before anything could have every sparked between them both, wisely. She held a friendship with Draik but nothing more.

She sighed, pondering quietly upon how to explain the Roses secretive traditions to Charon. He would have to wear white, as would she, for the Ceremony. It was a symbolic gesture and Vendetta remembered her parents and brother’s Ceremony. She had spent a day in the house alone whilst their bodies were cleaned and she was left alone to mourn. Then, with the help of Elii and some others, three massive fires were set up. Her family’s bodies burnt, ashes scattered and then from all over others had come. Music had filled the air, good will towards Mercy the child and it had raged on through the night. Fierce dancing, lulling singing and Vendetta had feared she was going to fall asleep. Then the Lament. It happened at every Roses’s Ceremony. A soft, gentle tune that ended the night. The same tune for every Ceremony.

But first...White...

Night fell tantalizingly slow that day, and Charon just kept forcing the darkness incarnated horse on and on; towards an invisible horizon as if running from the hounds of Hell themselves. It was ludicrous off course; using the darkness to escape it, and the murky depths would always catch up with him –such was the promise he made in turn for their strength.
Yet their soul lay beyond their reach –a promise however was a promise, and so they begrudgingly complied with their end of the bargain. Everything became clearer with each step the sun took back to give way to the night. Charon felt as if his eyes were adjusting to a whole other world out there; colour within the darkness, as if the night held no such sway over his eyes, no longer obscuring things hidden in bliss from the innocent onlooker. Everything was exposed now; everything. A pillar of darkness rose before him –a city. Gently the thoughts and suggestive whispers planter there beckoned him to go there; slaughter, kill, let it rain blood –they spoke.

Enticed by the possibilities Charon felt like experimenting; how many could he take on, how would the darkness prey on his opponents, would they die silently –would it cost him strength, or was it like commanding a minion to do your bidding?
All these questioning possibilities presented themselves before him and demanded to be solved now; not later –when the Rose was there to watch with her innocent eyes, no, now. The darkness in the city beckoned him, called out to him –take me, it said, take me and do away with these humans who have no need for it. Off course, taking the darkness would kill any of those who carried it, and more. Darkness spread easily in a city such as these where secrets were built and settled on lies and treason. Charon stopped the horse, tilted his face to the sky; where streaks of colours aligned –energy guided by the earth down below; life.
Darkness was life just as much as light could ever be. There was no mistaking the just actions of their simplistic being –the voices were merely his personal reflection which would no longer hide. Instead of whispers however, everything he longed to hide was now exposed. Honesty it seemed had been underestimated.

Charon didn’t think the darkness was bad in any way however it were his very own thoughts and fears which had caused him to be afraid to give in to the all encompassing whole. His training as a Shade had told him to kill; and he had known nothing else but pain and temptation –but weren’t the Shades there to rid the world of the darkness, of the shadows, and create a more honest world? Charon laughed. Surely the thought was noble, but that wasn’t exactly reality, now was it?
The reality was that he wanted to do away with whoever lived up ahead and bathe in the river of blood he would create meandering down the path he made in parallel. Were these desires born from the darkness though, or his own heart? Boundaries faded, Charon’s hand travelled up to the silver symbol slowly, feeling the dull beat of his heart. Were these thoughts Vendetta’s light?
The Shade peered back at where Vendetta should be along the winding road; then to the black symbols itching at his wrists. “Choices, choices,” Charon whispered, hesitating with a grin. “Do you think she would mind a little play, Mare?”

With the peace to think, Vendetta did as she so wished, her thoughts whirring softly and painting images across her mind so delicately she got rid of them in case of seeing them darkened and marred by some force. She watched Charon go ahead with his steed, thoughts easing up and she reluctantly agreed to only walking until nightfall.

The fact that she was thinking of different methods in which to find Titov’s weakness, something had to strike him hard and it would be his downfall, if it was there she would find it and use it against the leader. He had no lover in which they could sabotage and destroy him emotionally, no children and no relatives, to her knowledge despite Charons awakening words she did not believe to be related to Titov.

It has to be some simple thing, a spot, a woman, anything... She thought desperately and frowned leaning against a tree and letting Charon gain some ground. She closed her eyes and thought, head swimming slightly and what she saw, horrified her;

The Court of Justice, as it was so incorrectly named, was that of a black marbled room, plush velvet red cushions lining a panel and a crouched, barely clothed female lay chained to the floor by clanking metal cuffs as voices shouted and roared, inaudible so many were shouting, all cloaked from the sidelines as the girl sobbed violently. She was young, barely older than Vendetta and it was with sick realisation that she recognised the woman. Elii’s daughter. Vendetta was but a paranormal entity watching, undetected and unnoticed. Titov watched from the head of the panel, smiling darkly as he stood in a swish of robes and triumph.

“A traitors daughter...”He boomed and Vendetta balled her fists, the girl and Elii had done nothing wrong! At least not yet and everything seemed to echo to vendetta as she watched, distressed. “The first of those who defy us to die.”Titov laughed coldly and step by slow step he made his way over to the girl, bending down and caressing her cheek with a thumb, silky laughter emitting from him, “Oh such a desert flower. Shame.” He flicked his wrist to what seemed to be an executioner and smirked coldly, “This should be a lesson.”He cackled and his eyes flashed as he took a seat to watch as Elii’s daughter was massacred in front of the Council.

Vendetta brought herself forwards and gasped, startled and eyes wide as she cradled her head, clearing her thoughts. If they had Elii’s daughter, did they have Elii? She picked up her pace, returning to the path and knowing to keep what had happened to herself for the night and she smiled somewhat, if this is how Titov wanted to play his games, she would ace him several times over. Like a fox, more a vixen really.

Emaras watched the Rose with a raised eyebrow, disbelief written on his face plainly in bold letters. One Rose to stand against the tide of the darkness was like having one bag of sand to stop the incoming tidewater –it would not be stopped by one hand alone; even if Charon thought to have found some way to annul the impending doom. Finally, he gave her a nod, trusting the world to right itself no matter what; as it was always bigger still than either darkness, light, or even shades. But for now, he himself was caught in the large bony fingers of death itself reincarnated, and if anything, Shades valued their lives –death would only serve to bring darkness after all. A misconception to think they all craved it when their final call came up, while in fact, above all other creature, Shades clung most stubbornly to life’s light.
Yet Emaras wouldn’t grief his position, Charon would remember him and his stature would be great; a leech of wisdom’s strength, darkness reborn.

Charon watched Vendetta with a strange, surprised expression as her hand touched his, as if he had been mentally pulled back to the here and now to see the sun fall across her face. The shadows created interesting shapes and illuminated her expression as if punctuating her silhouette. Everything seemed to pause, slow down, and speed up all at once. Narrowing his eyes Charon debated her request internally –there was no time to lose, and he was eager to test his strength.
Too eager, perhaps, and Charon watched his hand, hers abandoning his once more and sighed deeply, “Fine. Until nightfall.”
She was a mystery, much like any woman could be, but more so, especially because the pact would pull them closer eventually. Share their nightmares and dreams, their fear and pain, yet it would divide them as well –he a Shade, she a Rose; a memory just out of reach, infuriatingly so.

With a smile Charon stepped before the horse, and put his hands on its large head, forehead touching as he invoked the darkness to spread across the beast. The fight was quickly won, the scared neighing of the horse turning into that of something gravely, and the darkness reared its hooves high up in deviance. “You’re mine now,” Charon whispered to the horse before mounting the animal, guiding it towards the road.
With the serenity of a dropping needle, Charon closed his eyes and reopened them, unleashing some of the potent darkness as he took off, leaving the house, Emaras and Vendetta behind. The wind whipped about him in tune with the darkness, coiling around the wind in long wispy tendrils. It was as if the two were in perpetual combat with each other and the horse did not once slow down or falter as the darkness commanded its steps. Charon would be back for Vendetta, once she had cleared her head and remained aware of her position through the connection they shared –she was up to something, that much was certain.

She wanted to face Titov alone, but Charon pondered her reasoning since he couldn’t imagine what good would come of a battle such as that fought alone. A mere hesitation could mean her end, and that was ludicrous, since he himself could protect her from such fate with ease now. Shrugging the depressing thoughts off, the dark Shade cleared his mind –doubt would feed the darkness, tempt the shadows, and the night was approaching to give way to his realm. Any Shade who had felt his change would come, perhaps to watch, to discover this new birth and welcome it, but more likely to see what crawled out of hell and do away with it before it could grow beyond them. Charon grinned; they were already too late.

Vendetta just shrugged her shoulders, whatever Charon saw fitting when it came to Emaras (Seeing as he knew him better) was fine by her and she would simply go along with it. He knew what he was doing, or at least she hoped he did. She did not follow him right away as he left to converse with Emaras and instead, she mused to herself.

Daddy never heard you sing... She thought and sighed slightly, it was odd. Titov had kept his distance from her mind set. Maybe he was wise enough to know not to provoke her with her new found and inherited power of which she had leeched from Charon. Vendetta tapped her lip gently at the thought, Titov was not wise. He was a fool so something else must have grasped his attention. This worried the Rose, Titov's bloodthirst and different tracked mind could do wonders in confusing her and he seemed to be working.

SHe wondered if it was something to do with Elii. Little calls in the back of her mind warned her and she looked to the hall, half expecting Titov to be sat watching her but of course, he was not. She swallowed back her concerns and went through to the living room, watching Emaras, "Your help is appreciated, old Shade."She smiled a little, "I'll take care of Charon, don't worry."She assured and let her gaze linger on him, wearily before turning and going outside, shrugging on her green cloak and covering her bare shoulders.

The breeze was cool and she welcomed it's delicate fingers as it caressed her cheek softly and she grinned a little, looking over to Charon, unsure of exactly what to say or do in the situation laid down before her, so she simply watched him. She drew closer and then looked to the horizion, half expectantly. She gave no sound or betrayal of her prescence until she deemed it worthy and she placed her hand over Charon's looking to the mare,"You ride. I can walk for a while."She said, needing time to think without being questioned or pestered by Charon, as spoiled as that seemed.

She let her hair and head stay uncovered, no need for the hood of her cloak now. She looked at her hand, curiously, half wondering why she had had to touch Charons hand. Comfort perhsp, to know he still had a pulse. She blinked, half startled and made to withdraw her hand before she accidentally provoked a tempered remark from Charon. "Sorry."She uttered quietly and shook her head a bit at herself. She was unaware what was happening to her but to build a bond stronger than friendship may cause disaster. It would be an easy strike for Immaroch or Titov and it would immediately be their downfall. She still wanted to walk, she had rested and she wondered what (if any) Charon's excuse would be for her not to walk.

She looked to the mare and smiled gently, as if it had told some private secret that her and it only shared. Roses and animals went back a long time but Vendetta never wasted time in learning why or what the use was in this. She just went with it. She did that a lot.

“Emaras is not going where we’re going, Vendetta, he won’t have to mind,” Charon said with a level voice, as if he didn’t care, or could be bothered to remain in the man’s dubious presence for any longer; annoyed by his own weakness the day prior. It was a careless battle he should’ve easily won, “What made you think he would?”
Charon had other plans for Emaras in mind, and would keep a close watch on his former master from a distance as he performed for the new darkness the role of mere puppet. Off course, Emaras was none the wiser as to his actual goal –such was the way of the darkness, not even a shimmer of the veil lifted as the shadows would evade the snooping minds of the inquiring kind.
Without much more thought Charon abandoned the room, twisting in his mind the idea of telling Vendetta what kind of consequences facing Titov would have now she was part of the darkness, but if anything the symbol would protect her this time around –even if that meant Charon would pay the price. Hopefully his suspicions towards the man were correct and the wounds he had inflicted to Vendetta prior were mere taunting meant to instil fear into the Rose’s heart. Her stubbornness rivalled that of his though, and as such there was no way such a meek assault would create doubt in Vendetta’s mind as to her goal. Her fulfilling of their pact was testimony of such resolve and Charon grinned at the victory.

Emaras peered up from where he was packing his bag as Charon shuffled into the familiar living room, stuffing what meagre belongings he had into the formless leather sack, his eyes dark and wary; acutely aware of Charon and the tainted darkness he carried into the room with him. With a dejected shake of his head he sighed, “Have you truly forgotten all the lessons I forced you to learn? Hide that energy of yours, Charon, lest someone sniffs you out.” The reprimand however was lacking strength, and the scar on his neck from their previous fight was an angry red against his pale worn skin.
“Let them come,” Charon challenged, eyes boring deep into Emaras’ soul, to see there things which should’ve remained in the dark, oblivious to all and buried deep in the history of decades past. Everyone carried with them a taint –humans, Roses, Shades alike- but now, where he could before only feel it was there, he could see it clear as daylight revealing an open field. As if someone had finally opened his eyelids and was showing him the world anew, where before he had been comatose and unable to think, walk and mind.

“I need you to stay below the radar, Emaras, seek out those willing to ally themselves to a world freed of Imaroch and Titov, and meet us at Pendor’s Gate on the next full moon,” and this time, Charon’s voice was heavy with darkness, no jokes –no sarcasm, only a grim sense of otherworldly desire. The order was not to be defied, such was clear and Emaras merely nodded, though he himself was less than subjective.
“You will always be my student, do not forget yourself in the temptations the darkness offers, Charon and remember who saved your life when your patience wears thin.”

The tightening of his fist, hard nails burrowing in soft skin, Charon nodded once, and then left for the door, recoiling at the first instance at the strength of the sunlight but soon it became bearable, and the Shade opened his eyes once more. The darkness whimpered, but at the same time was excited and elated at this chance to discover the whole of the world –finding within the light chances and opportunities which weren’t entirely stemming from Charon’s mind alone. Everything was fresh and new, inexperienced and bright, overwhelming almost, but the sun was already lowering gently on the forest surrounding them, and soon the night would dawn upon them, unveiling his true strength. For now, Charon made due with finding the small stable, and freeing the black impatient horse from where it was bound.
The mare stared at him continuously, but knew better than to run, or protest in fear –when it came to animals impeding death was almost always calmly accepted, yet this beast wouldn’t die any time soon with the darkness as its master, “Allow me to make of you, a living, breathing nightmare, and sing aloud to any who care to listen; the darkness has a new master now.”
Charon’s grin was familiar, although it was close to the one he sported before a satisfying chaste kiss with death, a guidance he offered his victims in their final moments of despair –intimate and caring; a ferryman for the damned.

Vendetta watched him, wearily before she shook her head a little at him. He never ceased to amaze her with his actions and she remarked, a small smile taking the bite out her words,"Charon."She nodded and stood up, half laughing at how quickly he changed.

Listening to his words about him losing himself and the possibility she immediately regained her own composure and uttered, "I am not about to let you sink into darkness, Charon. As much as you irritate me at times."She smirked her little quirky smile and then looked around. She would learn, she would have to and she agreed with everything Charon was saying quietly. At the words of other Roses, she had to stop and think.

It was entirely possible, she knew one. An old friend who's family had looked after her as a child for a short time whilst she was still Mercy. She was unsure what had become of him but she knew he was still alive. She would know if he wasn't. News travelled fast amongst Roses. "I know of one. He has a family. Last I remember anyhow."She mumbled, "Just North of here. Can't be far."She commented, thoughtfully. She chewed at her lip, contemplating if it was a good idea to go to his home but she knew he wouldn't disown her for her actions.

"He'll help."She muttered, watching Charon pace and then glancing to her cloak as she moved to pick it up and she slung it lazily over her arm, "If not, his daughter will help."She said levelly and calmly, "He travels a lot." She remarked and nodded.

Titov's whereabouts was a question she did not expect, "I'll tell you in a few nights."She spoke very carefully. She would find out when he next chose to visit her whilst she slept, it was nothing to her. She would get what she needed then close the barrier completely. A small crack enough for communication would suffice, no more than that. She looked to Charon, "I'll find out. Everyone knows when he has moved positions or location. He's a brag." She said icily. It was true.

She swept some hair out her emerald eyes and sought out Charon's grey ones, watching him thoughtfully before breaking off her thoughts and then shifting her claok in her arms, not putting it on. Enjoying being able to not wear the thing, quite happy in her white and red clothing for the moment.

She gave a sigh before remarking,"Emaras should keep a civil tongue in his head. Elii's daughter has a temper and even I wouldn't mess with it."She said bluntly, hiding a laugh slightly. Elii's daughter was the same age as Vendetta, perhaps a little older and the stories she had heard stories of that girls temper and what had happened to men who had irritated her. No more children.

"I'm serious."She said to Charon, snapping back from her thoughts and raising an eyebrow, "The stories I've heard about Natha would petrify you."She said and then averted her gaze elsewhere. "She's scary."

Just a moment longer, his mind argued with his body, deciding he would have to abandon this awkward and unsuitable position sooner rather than later; time waited for no one –not even a tired or weary Shade. Her nimble hands caressing his hair sent shivers down his spine making his legs go weak with pleasure, but the darkness was there to spill it in ways unimaginable by sending images which were straight out a warped nightmare dreamt by a creature only know to death. Such as him, Charon realized as he suppressed the attempts at raping his serene moment.
She lied to him, but he let her, not cruel enough to correct her on her words, but knowing that deep down Mercy lived –wasn’t the memory within his heart testimony of such facts? Vendetta might choose to reject her old self, whereas Charon would rather embrace the innocent child with a loving affection.

Her heart beat calmly, her words reverberated through her body like the humming of a song, her hand was warm, leaving behind some piece of her before it left him cooling down rapidly. Charon sighed deeply and moved with her, using the incentive to rise and stand tall, no longer showing any more weakness towards the Rose. The look in his eyes depicted a solemn resignation to the darkness, but he was far from the man that had stood basking in power and fed on it greedily. Instead, the boy appeared to be hidden once more, replaced by the adult Charon was supposed to be.
“I may not be ready, but we will leave nonetheless,” Charon spoke gently, though their proximity was still less than appropriate. Grey steady eyes caught hers and with a seriousness so unlike Charon he stepped back, composed himself further, as if needed time to physically tuck the memory he had shared, and the one he had seen away deep within his mind.

“You can control the darkness now –through the pact, through me,” the Shade ventured to explain. Already the pact had proven to work the other way around, but back then, it was her meagre amount of energy he had been given which he could spend. Now the connection had been completed, Vendetta could drain him of all, as he could with her –they shared the same source, amount.
“You and I are now one,” Charon continued, his hand fingering the symbol on his chest before he caught himself and lowered the, with black signs riddled, arm to rest at his side once more. “If one dies, the other is left with both; strength, perhaps, but insanity also. Unless you can master the darkness, you will not be able to safeguard yourself from it.” Running his hands through his hair, Charon turned and paced the room. It wasn’t like him to think of an early demise, if anything he had always been confident in his abilities to the extent of being cocky.

The difference between then and now however was too great; he saw in perspective now why Imaroch had been amused by his struggles in the face of the darkness and its changes.
“It’s not like the shadows, for they only ever whisper, no, the darkness will change me Vendetta. Soon, I won’t be able to tell which thoughts are my own and which they have instilled upon me, yet one thing will always keep me here –the memory you now hold within and hopefully it will remind me that I am Shade, and not darkness. That somewhere within me lies the strength to retain my soul as I never offered it up as sacrifice to the darkness by making this pact with you.”
Charon shook his head and searched the room for his coat, finding it deposited on the sole chair the small room was rich and shrugged into it, “That will still be some time. So, what’s our plan? Do you know someone you can trust even now, who could help us when we do finally reach Titov?”
His mind was whirring with ideas, thoughts, plans, but as fast as they came he refuted them; everything was subject to change, the earth, the Roses, the Shades, but not the darkness, nor the light –whatever happened, they were constant. Immortal in a sense. Perhaps Imaroch wasn’t as immortal as he would have liked himself to believe, would the darkness abandon him all that would be left in his wake would be a hollow skeleton. Charon paused at the door, “Where is Titov anyway?”