Conquering the Stars with the Undead

When Charon finally awoke, he jolted upwards, vague memories clawing at his mind before locking themselves away, leaving a hole in their place.

His breath came in heavy gasps, droplets of sweat dripping down his forehead as a feeling of dread overcame him.

Reaching down to steady himself, he felt a soft mattress, his hand sinking into its folds. Glancing around, he saw he was in a plain white room. 

A counter sat opposite him, nothing lying on top except for three candles and his holo-pad. A door was beside that, closed without any windows to look out from. His bed took up at least half the room, being far larger than he would need.

Throwing his legs over the edge, he realized he wasn't wearing his clothes anymore, but instead a plain pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

He pulled the collar, grimacing as he thought about someone changing him.

'That's a comforting thought.'

Pushing himself off the bed and standing up, he teetered precariously before catching his balance, stumbling a few steps forward until he could stabilize himself with the counter.

Reaching for the holo-pad to figure out what had happened, he recoiled when it began buzzing aggressively, rattling on the top of the steel surface.

Cringing from the noise, he snatched it up and began pressing random buttons, hoping one of them would disable the machine. Luckily, he seemed to have hit the right combination, the sound ending only a few seconds after beginning.

'Phew, I'm glad that's over. Now I need to see what's going on.'

Shuffling to the door, he brought the holo-pad up to it and waited for it to open. 

One second turned into two, and then three, and then ten, yet nothing changed, the door refusing to open for him.

'Huh, that's odd.'

Waving it all over, he looked all around the edge of the door to try and find some kind of button, yet found nothing.

'Am I stuck in here?'

Frowning at the realization, he took a few steps back until he was leaning against the bed again. Sitting down, he sat and stared at the door, realizing he could do nothing but wait until someone came.

He only had to wait for a few minutes before someone arrived, the door opening with a hiss. A man wearing robes that looked to be cut from the midnight sky strode in, his hooded face banishing all light from entering. 

His hands were covered in onyx gloves, wrapping tightly around a large book. Not a spec of dust touched its bland brown cover.

With reverence, the man entered and gently placed the tome on the counter, equidistant from all three candles.

The door closed with a chime as the man turned to face Charon.

They stood there staring at each other for a minute past comfortability before Charon spoke up, coughing awkwardly to break the silence.

"Hello?"

The man didn't respond immediately, instead taking another step closer. Although his features were hidden, Charon could feel his eyes roaming over him.

He shivered and leaned back, uncomfortable with the inspection.

"You are not what I expected."

A voice that flowed like water came from everywhere except the man. Charon heard it from under his clothes, from beneath the sheets, from every area where light was replaced with shadows.

It reminded him of something he couldn't remember, a headache swiftly growing as he considered what it could be.

Clutching the side of his head, he shook it to clear his thoughts, focusing instead on the strange man in front of him.

"Who are you?"

The man took a half step back and bowed with a slight flourish, the action contrasting the mysterious and dark visage he gave off.

"I am the High Priest Evander Liandus, captain of the Noctis Vrex and faithful servant of the God of Death."

Charon tilted his head slightly, confused by the man's flamboyance but catching his titles nonetheless.

'A High Priest sounds important, not to mention a captain. He must be the one in charge here! Shit, this isn't good! I did something to get the authorities on my case!'

He had experience with similar people before, albeit on a smaller scale. Before growing infatuated with heroes and their stories, he and his friends had caused their fair share of issues, usually leading to them getting interrogated by police forces.

One thing he had learned was that it was always best to defer to them, be respectful, and keep conversations as short as possible.

"I'm Charon. Nice to meet you… sir."

The last part came out more delayed than he had intended, the situation too strange for Charon to feel confident in anything he did.

The High Priest, for his part, didn't seem to care, straightening himself before approaching again, getting within a few inches of the teenager.

"I was told you have a mark from your aspect ritual. Show it to me."

Positive he had no memory of any kind of mark, he opened his mouth to explain his confusion before closing it with an audible clack. With shaky movements, he pulled his shirt up, exposing his scrawny frame but also something more.

Just between the top of his lungs, right below his collarbone, sat a marking he had no recollection of.

It was a series of gray and purple orbs spiraling in a circle, a strange black shape crawling out of its center. The colors trailing behind the orbs looked to grow darker the further back they went, creating a haunting path toward an endless abyss.

Charon could only think of one way to describe it.

'What the hell is this creepy thing doing on my chest!?'

The High Priest, comparatively, had grown so close he was practically touching it.

The man muttered under his breath, the sound repeating from the shadows all around.

"Marvelous…"

Before he knew it, the man straightened once more, casually leaning back to sit on a chair that rose from the darkness all around them.

"It has been centuries since I last saw someone gain your aspect. It is interesting for me to learn that his marking and yours are vastly different."

Feeling shy, Charon lowered his shirt, covering the mark and his chest again. 

His robed head cocked to the side.

"Curious, isn't it? How our god works? He can provide the same gift to two individuals, and yet the items they unwrap manifest completely differently."

Unsure what to respond with, Charon simply said:

"I guess, I don't really know much about the God of Death, though. Did something happen?"

Evander snapped his fingers, and a holo-pad appeared from the shadows around them. 

Grabbing it and pushing a few buttons, a screen appeared with what Charon identified as an image of himself, followed by a bunch of words.

"I had read you were from the outskirts, which seems to have been true. Your knowledge of both magic and religion seems abysmal, and yet you were still chosen for a great gift. If I had not been a man of faith before, this little event may very well have made me one."

Placing the holo-pad down on a table that similarly grew from the darkness, the High Priest leaned forward.

"Something did indeed happen, Charon. You were given an aspect that many believed had been revoked from humanity for our crimes long ago. I had thought it would not manifest again in my lifetime, as did my advisors, and yet… here you are."

Growing more confused by the second, Charon slowly pulled away, his head lowering between his shoulders and his arms crossing as he struggled with what to say. Although he felt nothing from the man in front of him, he knew a great power lay just beneath the surface.

"I… don't know how to respond. Did I do something wrong?"

Evander shook his head while responding.

"No, on quite the contrary, you have done something very right. If my suspicions are correct, you could be a valuable asset in the chaos soon to plague the galaxy."

Charon didn't like the way the man described him. Assets were just objects, used and discarded as needed. The idea of being treated like one, similar to how Emerius had spoken to him, made his blood boil. 

The anger leaked into his words, souring them.

"What exactly did I do? I don't remember anything during the ritual, if that's what this is about."

He had the distinct feeling that he man began to smile, his voice coming out slightly higher pitched and excited.

"During your ritual, we detected the presence of a creature that was supposed to be trapped in the Citadel of Death, the throne of our god. Somehow, this presence vanished near the end, just before you were released. Once in our care, we had you tested for your aspect, just as we would anyone.

Evander chuckled a few times, the sound strangely mirthful rather than threatening.

"Imagine our surprise when we learned that you had the aspect of Soul?"