The clearing was eerily silent, save for the sound of the wind whispering through the trees. The once-vibrant ground around Dipak’s body seemed muted, the air heavy with a strange, suffocating stillness. His body lay crumpled on the earth, dark black blood pooling beneath him, a stark contrast to his pale skin. Xania stood above him, her hands trembling and stained with the inky substance, her face a mask of restrained emotion.
Gytha and Raven emerged from the shadows, the rustle of leaves betraying their arrival. Gytha's brown skin shimmered faintly under the dim light filtering through the canopy, her stillness an almost unnatural contrast to the turmoil within her. Raven, however, moved quickly, his sharp gaze locking onto Xania with immediate recognition.
“She’s the Verdant,” Raven whispered, his voice low and filled with awe—and something darker.
Gytha didn’t respond. Her eyes were fixed on Dipak’s lifeless form, and for a moment, it was as though nothing else existed. She moved forward, her steps measured, deliberate, until she knelt by his side.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Gytha’s voice was calm, but the weight of her words pressed against Xania like a physical force.
Xania opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She glanced down at her hands, at the black blood that clung to her skin like oil, and then back to Gytha. “I had to. He was going to bring Erebos. There was no other way.”
Gytha said nothing. Her hands moved to gently cradle Dipak’s head, her touch reverent, as though afraid she might break him further. She didn’t look at Xania, didn’t acknowledge her plea for understanding.
She lifted Dipak’s body with surprising ease, the motion fluid and unhurried. His blood, dark as pitch, dripped slowly onto the ground, staining it like ink spreading across paper. Gytha’s expression remained unreadable, her stillness unnerving.
“You killed him to stop Erebos,” Gytha finally said, her tone flat, devoid of judgment. “Do you know what that means? What you’ve destroyed to protect this world?”
Xania’s breath hitched. “I didn’t have a choice.” She laid her stained hands over her stomach.
Raven cawed and tipped his head to the side, staring at those protective hands.
“There’s always a choice,” Gytha murmured, her gaze never leaving Dipak’s face. “And now you must live with the one you’ve made.”
Raven stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. “We need to leave.”
Gytha nodded once but said nothing, turning away from Xania. She walked with Dipak’s body in her arms, her movements as smooth as flowing water. Raven lingered for a moment, his piercing eyes locking onto Xania.
“You may think you did the right thing,” he said softly, his tone laced with something almost akin to pity. “But you’ve set things in motion you don’t understand. Pray it was worth it.”
Then he followed Gytha, gesturing towards Xania to follow them into Enaid.
"There is someone I need to find first," she said.
Raven nodded, looking back at her.
"Find him and then find us in Enaid," he said, pointing in the direction where the Life Tree loomed.
The journey back to Rachna was somber and silent. Gytha carried Dipak’s body the entire way, her face a mask of calm, though Raven knew better than to believe it reflected her true emotions. When they arrived at the edge of the small pool, its surface eerily still under the pale moonlight, Gytha finally stopped.
She stepped into the water without hesitation, her movements deliberate. The dark waters rippled as she waded deeper, the water rising to her knees, then her waist. When she finally stopped, she lowered Dipak’s body into the water with infinite care, as though returning something precious to its rightful place.
There was no ceremony, no grand procession. Only the three of them were there to witness it, if one counted Angerona clinging to Gytha's back. Gytha stood in the water, her hands resting on Dipak’s still chest, her eyes unblinking.
“He belongs to Rachna,” Gytha said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “And Rachna will decide when he is to return.”
She released him, letting his body sink beneath the surface. The water stilled almost immediately, as though it had claimed him entirely. Gytha remained where she was, her gaze fixed on the spot where he had disappeared. She ran her claws over the surface of the water, breaking her reflection into fragments.
Raven stood at the water's edge, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression tense. He could smell the death lingering in the air, but the scent of the body vanished as soon as it has sunk out of sight.
"Do you think he would have released Erebos?" Raven asked.
“Yes,” Gytha replied simply. She looked up at the night sky and added "All things must come to an end so that new things can begin."
Minutes passed in silence, each one stretching into eternity. The moonlight danced on the water’s surface, casting shifting patterns that seemed almost alive. And then, without warning, the water began to stir.
The ripples started small, barely noticeable, but they grew rapidly, spreading outward in concentric circles. The water near the center of began to glow faintly, a soft, otherworldly light that grew brighter with each passing moment.
Gytha stepped back, her eyes fixed on the light. Raven’s breath caught in his throat, and even he, with all his sharp edges and cynicism, couldn’t hide the flicker of hope that crossed his face.
From the center of the light, a figure began to emerge. First, the crown of fiery, multicolored hair broke the surface, glowing with hues of red, orange, and yellow. Then came the pale skin, shimmering with an almost ethereal glow, followed by his slim white body. Dipak rose slowly from the water, his eyes closed, his expression serene.
As he stepped onto the shore, the water slid off him, as though Rachna itself refused to tarnish him. His eyes opened, revealing a vibrant yellow glow that seemed to pierce through the darkness. He stood still for a moment, his presence commanding, his very being radiating an aura of power and renewal.
Gytha knelt before him, her head bowed in reverence. “Life Spark,” she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet awe.
Dipak’s gaze swept over her, then Raven, and finally settled on the horizon. “Erebos has been denied,” he said, his voice soft but resonant, like the distant hum of an eternal flame. “The balance has been disrupted. We must act swiftly.”
He reached into the Aether and pulled out a pair of white pants and stepped into them. Uneven yellow and red locks of hair framed his face. Drawing out a pair of white leather boots, he continued to dress as he spoke.
“Enaid doesn't have much longer.”
Next he found a pair of white gloves and pulled them up in a single quick gesture.
“The Tree of Life will soon die,” Dipak stated while fishing out a jacket.
Putting his arm through the sleeve, he pointed at them, “We must plant the Life Seed soon.”
Dipak carefully ran the belts into each of their buckles and fastened each snugly across his torso so that the three were aligned down the center.
“And we no longer have a back up plan," he said.
Dipak sighed and ruffled his hair with one hand while patting his pockets down in search of cigarettes. When he slid his fingers into the pocket at his hip, he smiled and pulled out a pack. With a flick of his wrist the end of one came out of the box. Putting it in his mouth, he lit it with quick flick of his fingers, drew on it deeply and slowly sighed it back out.
Raven stepped forward, his expression hardening. “Then let’s act. But tell me one thing, Dipak—do you blame her for what she did?”
Dipak turned to face Raven, his glowing eyes unblinking. “Blame has no place in what must be done. She made her choice, and now we face its consequences." He took a long drag off the cigarette. "It is not for me to forgive or condemn. Only to ensure that the cycle continues.”
Gytha rose to her feet, her stillness replaced by a quiet intensity. "The Verdant is coming to Enaid."
Dipak smiled faintly, a sad and knowing expression. “We protect what remains. And we prepare for what is to come.”
As they stood together at the edge of Rachna, the weight of their task settled over them. Dipak, now reborn, was a beacon of hope and power. But even he could not undo what had been set in motion.
