He never thought he would be so close to almost touch the blood waters of the River of Souls. A couple of years ago he was arrested and was prepped to be executed on the plaza of Garoth, the capital city of Sarthorak Island. All he did was save the poor man he saw on the sea drowning. Given all he had been through, all those years would he do it again? Some times he wandered that very question himself. He is not a pious man, he never liked Vashka the governing deity of Sarthorak but given the status of the Theocracy he always attended the day of Remembrance. But he considered himself a moral man, how could he let this poor man die when he could do something to save him. He battled inside when he started going to those dark thoughts, especially when a little bit of ale visited his empty stomach. How saving ones life balances the death of so many others. Would you save a man that would eventually kill your family? Is it immoral to look away when you know that action might lead to such a dire reaction?

Tiphos was not one of those men that would land on a simple answer, he constantly debated with himself, some days favoring one outcome and some the totally opposite one. After all what good were those philosophical question offer, they would do him no good, but nevertheless he could not block the thoughts from jumping in his head every now and then.

Now is one of those situations, the thoughts are there, when he laid on the ground with his leather armor being ripped just underneath his chest, bright red blood being poured to the dry dirt below him. Both of his hands are trying to block as much of the flow as possible, while he moves slowly to rest his back on the rock just a couple of feet away. The traces of blood becomes like a black goo a slug would leave behind his trail. He gasps for air with each movement he makes, his breathing is becoming painful by the minute. He makes his last thrust with his right hand on the ground and he falls back on the rock, he screams from the new pain on his spine, as if his gutted stomach wouldn’t do the work , the sharp rock on his spine was a welcoming change of pace in the plethora of pains he has experienced today.

He takes a moment to press his wound again, he squints his green eyes in pain, just a simple change like that makes his handsome face into a face of terror. A couple of moments pass by while he keeps his eyes closed and tries to relax and organize his thoughts, when he opens his eyes is the moment he realizes how close to the River of Souls he is. The body of Parnon who he can still see his decapitated head a couple of feet away from his legs beside his sword, is almost half emerged with in the river.

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He wandered if all those rumors were true, is Parnon’s body boiling with all kinds of elements right now? Oh how would he loved to see that, the stories he would say to Zia at the Broken Cup Inn, but first he would have to explain to her why he killed her brother… He doesn’t think that there is any easy way to do that, he is partly happy that he wont make it back alive to go through with that. It would be the worst of things to tell the woman he loves so much that he removed the head from the shoulders of her younger brother. He had good reason, but no one would believe him, how could they, Parnon was the most lovable and likable person on the Island of Tiso.

His breathing started to become slower and slower, the blinking of his eyes started to look as those of a sleeping man, each closing slower than the one before.

> ‘’I..I failed…’’

he murmured with a frail voice, no one will know the true story he thought as his head fell to his side. Keeping it straight up became almost impossible.

He lifted his sight to the edge of the River, blurry vision, pain, shadows. He closed his eyes and pressed his eyelids together with all of his remaining strength to clear his eye sockets from blood and sweat that was covering them. He opened them again, his vision blurred still but..he must be hallucinating he is seeing things that are not there. A morph forming on the surface of the River. It is impossible, Parnon’s body standing up from the ground, head missing but still standing on his two feet. The body moving as if being jolted by an electric source literally spasming up standing.

> ‘’So that’s what dying feels like, like doing the best Black Hope drug you can find’’

he whispered while resting his head on the rock once again.

> ‘’No’’

a voice replied. That was not just any voice, that was Parnon’s voice. He opened his eyes and he directed them towards the voice. The head was still laying on the ground, upon a pool of blood that now has already became darker than the night sky. His eyes open and his lips smiling.

> “This happens when you mess with entities you are not aware of. You could have made it you know. All you had to do was give me the damn gem. Now what did you manage to do? Delay the inevitable, I will take that gem and I will tear the damn river once and for all. No more would i stay here entrapped, no more will I stay hidden and invisible from the likes of you and yours. “

The body arrived at the head and picked it up. He kept it with his right hand on his side belly as one would hold a ball. His voice started to become distorted, like the voice of a demon.

> “ The portal will connect the two worlds, and you are the only one I have to thank for. I wish I could tell you that you will enjoy the last part of it but lets be honest, I guarantee you will not”

said Parnon while he started approaching Tiphos slowly with his smirk becoming larger with each step.