Delusion! That was what it was … Nothing more than that. It was heart-wrenching for any eyes that would have seen this, except that there were no eyes at all, as each of the three was preoccupied with their own issues.
"…. Brother! Please…."
'Please' now flowed like water for Syla, though it was too late, and the person he had most detested in his life was the one seemingly listening to this… what irony?
He twitched in his wheelchair, as smoke-like vines crept around his limp legs, but Syla was not conscious. Even if he was, he would not have felt any sensation as his legs were useless to him. One would have pitied Syla, except that what he had become was all the result of his decisions and, most importantly, greed.
The three in the Acherra-Môr were just right for each other, and one would commend Ian for ensuring that all three were in that same space at the same time.
"You are not forgotten. You are remembered and are judged as well."
"What do you mean by that, brother?"
