As Archibald’s body turned into motes of dust he heard a deep, monotone voice. The voice was ancient, as old as the world itself.

“Are you certain this is the correct choice?” it asked.

“Who’s there?” Archibald exclaimed, even though his body had already decayed to the point that he couldn’t physically talk.

In fact when he shouted just now no part of his body moved. The world around him was frozen in time. This situation was almost like his Mental Aspect thinking aloud.

“That question is a manifestation of the strange tendency of those who are too small to know who or even what they are. Only such nonentities need names. I am who I am,” the voice replied unhurriedly.

“The so-called races of man dubbed me the Judge or sometimes the Judges. Does knowing this wrong label, which insignificant wisps have imposed on me, make you feel better in any way? Especially, given your current circumstances?” The voice was indifferent, emotionless and most definitely not that of a manling.

“No, not really,” Archibald admitted. “Why did time stop? Did you come here to pass judgment on me?”

The big man realized that he was strangely lucid for someone going through a painful death. Everything that’d just happened seemed so far removed from him. It was as if centuries had passed since he’d died, if he had ever died at all.

“Foolish notions,” the ancient voice responded. “Does time even exist? This world is, but even as it is, it is fractured, split into many. The purpose is not important right now. You asked whether I am here to judge you? In a way I am. However, you must first answer me. Are you certain this is the correct choice?

“Do you know what you are doing tiny wisp? Are you aware of what the entity in front of you is?” The voice didn’t answer any of Archibald’s questions. Rather it posed a number of questions of its own.

In response Archibald remained silent. The big man stared at his son’s face for the longest time. It was a beautiful, slightly chubby face of a child. The embodiment of all the pride a man once called Archibald had felt. Unfortunately, that sweet face was frozen in a moment of pain, regret and sorrow that seemed to stretch into eternity. Archibald wanted to feel guilty for this, but no emotion came to him.

“Of course I know. That over there is my son. Nothing more, nothing less,” he declared gravely.

“I admire your kind’s ability to deceive yourself,” the monotone voice commended in a way that didn’t contain one bit of admiration.

“Even when reduced to such a state, you are still not being honest with yourself,” it paused. “That answer is not enough. If you wish to persist with it, I am afraid your wish cannot be granted.”

“Wolf is probably a reincarnation of a famous figure,” Archibald said with some hesitation.

“While that statement is undoubtedly correct on multiple levels, it is not what I have asked. Who was this entity prior to this current form?” The emotionless voice continued in the same flat tone, trying to coerce an answer out of Archibald.

Archibald felt a hint of defeat before it disappeared in the next moment. He was just a tired man, finally forced to accept the cruel reality.

“He was probably that bastard, Lonely Eagle. Is that what you wanted me to say?” he finally gave in.

The voice however, ignored the question. “Despite knowing that, you still wish to go through with this? The one you call Lonely Eagle used to be your nemesis.”

“Heh, you really think that’s the worst of it?” Archibald asked. “Lonely Eagle tried to screw Wolf’s mother, crippled her, and brought her nemesis to take over the throne of her empire. Not just that, he'd done all he could to exterminate her whole clan. Compared to what had happened to her, my grudge with the man really isn’t worth mentioning. He didn’t even kill me in the end.

“Was Wolf born on the day Lonely Eagle died?” Archibald suddenly asked, wanting to satisfy a bizarre curiosity.

“The very moment; give or take the time it takes to hold a shallow conversation and utter some curse words in a different flow of time.” The voice answered Archibald’s question truthfully. For all its power, it was still bound to speak the truth.

“How come reincarnation doesn’t take time?” Archibald asked, avoiding a certain subject.

“Again with time? Time is a concept constructed by the lesser. Why would it have any effect on the timeless? Even for mere wisps like you, time is merely a tool used to measure the density of events based on a reference.” Archibald couldn’t make heads or tails out of these words.

But for some reason they irked him. He was so tiny to be considered a wisp, but if that was true, why didn’t this huge entity intervene then? It could’ve saved him with a thought! It could’ve brought peace and prosperity to the world, yet it simply observed wars, crimes and famine! It wasn’t just this thing that he was angry at.

Archibald was enraged by fate, for placing such a heavy burden on his son’s tiny shoulders. Hadn’t the boy suffered enough already?

“Why Wolf!?” Archibald shouted in frustration. All it took was a mere moment for his burning rage to dwindle down to frustration, then completely disappear.

“Someone invested a modest amount of energy for the entity you know as Lonely Eagle to be reborn with a chance of retaining a portion of its memory.” the detached voice replied.

“That act drew my attention. At that moment three other candidates existed among the billions of elves living within their sight. I personally selected your child as the vessel. You should be grateful. If I had not made such a choice, your descendant would have been mentally disabled, likely to die within a month of being born. Fusing parts of two souls with lingering injuries into an infirm body, wisps really have strange ideas.

“If you wish to know why I had selected you when I had the freedom of choice. There were several reasons. This is the reaping of karma, and in accordance with the laws. More importantly that wisp’s parents were destined for early deaths, which is always a plus in selection. It means there is less of a need for interference. But there are other reasons. If the child was not half-human, the remnant will might not have immediately fallen out with the one in charge of the body.”

Gradually, the indifferent, monotone voice changed. Hints of viciousness and zealotry seeped into it as the voice slowly drifted towards madness.

“This way the Wolf would have to fight from birth. If it managed to defeat itself and grow up strong, it could be the one. The terror to swallow the stars which we hate with all our–”

As its madness was about to reach a crescendo, the voice was abruptly cut off. In the next moment it continued in the same uninteresting monotone it had before.

“My question stands. Are you certain this is the correct choice? You just have to say that you are. On an off chance that it could influence your opinion, your child has utterly shredded the remains of Lonely Eagle’s soul. Well, the bits and pieces he had managed to find up till now. The rest would make for a future challenge.”

Archibald didn’t seem to have noticed the outburst. He was caught up in his own thoughts, reflecting on his life. He went through all the conversations he had with his son, realizing there were plenty of things he should’ve said, but didn’t. Sometimes that happens. You get caught up with everything you have to do and forget the most basic things…

“Do you know that in all these years I’ve never told him that I love him? I thought that that wasn’t something a father needs to tell his son. I mean, it was only proper for me to raise him tough. Right? Since he was going to end up all alone before he grew up…” he trailed off.

It was too late for regret now. There was only one way Archibald thought he could redeem himself.

“I am certain. To save my son, I’m willing to burn my body and my soul. Even if I’m completely wiped out of existence I’ll do it with a smile, as long as my boy can survive this ordeal and become strong enough that nobody could ever hurt him again.”

“Wonderful.” The apathetic voice changed a bit, becoming darker and twisted. “This is the first instance that this kind of development had happened. Your meager sacrifice is noted, tiny wisp. I will use it to temper the candidate as much as possible.”

Suddenly Archibald had a feeling he had made a mistake. A terrible one. That one word, temper…

“What? Wait! No!”

With that disturbing realization time continued flowing. Archibald’s body and soul crumbled.

***

A gust of storm-force wind scattered Archibald’s remains.

Wolf, who stared at the sight wide-eyed, felt a stab of pain from his soul.

The episode was so intense that Wolf’s soul and body disconnected for a moment.

The instant Wolf lost consciousness, his Mental Aspect opened his eyes and started wailing and shrieking like a haunt. The spiritual manifestation toppled from the seat and tumbled down the stairs until it slammed onto the hard floor made out of bone.

Wolf didn’t feel the slightest bit of pain as he kept howling, hitting the ground with his head over and over again.

“No! No! No!” he screamed and hammered the ground with his head.

Wolf had no concept of time, nor did he know what was happening in the real world where his body lay unconscious. He had even forgotten that his Mind Palace wasn’t the physical world.

At some point Wolf’s Mental Aspect raised his head. There was no visible injury from his actions, but his appearance had changed. The spiritual manifestation had become gaunt, massive black bags under his eyes, with barely any meat between the skin and bone.

The ruin that was Wolf’s Mental Aspect looked forward unseeing, completely unaware that the mist was gone from the Mind Hall and that all ten columns had fully formed. The whole place shook as if it was at the center of an earthquake, but Wolf noticed none of it.

His eyes were immediately trained on one specific column. His sob died in his throat and his whole body froze. A familiar warmth was radiating out of the newly emerged column.

Wolf’s Mental Aspect ran up to the tenth column and placed his shaky hand on it. At that moment Archibald’s determined voice echoed throughout the Mind Hall.

“I am certain. To save my son, I’m willing to burn my body and my soul. Even if I’m completely wiped out of existence I’ll do it with a smile, as long as my boy can survive this ordeal and become strong enough that nobody could ever hurt him again.”

Hearing the booming words, Wolf once more collapsed to the ground and started sobbing while hugging his knees in despair.

“Why? Father, why? All I ever wanted was to spend time with you! I never wanted you to sacrifice yourself so that I can become stronger! And now? Now, I won’t even be able to find you again in this world the way I planned on finding mother!” Wolf kept crying for a very long time.

As he did, a tiny shadow that observed him from beyond the throne silently disappeared.

***

Wolf’s fingers twitched as he opened his eyes. He had passed a day in delirium and madness. The boy looked around, taking in the devastated landscape. Even the old bridge was gone, leaving behind nothing but a few heaps of stone sticking out of the lethargically flowing river.

His first thought was to find any remains of his father. Archibald once said that a powerful enough Priest could revive the dead even if all they had to work with were ashes.

Unfortunately there were no ashes. Or rather there were too many. Archibald’s remains were scattered by the hurricane force winds. The only thing as far as the eye could see were ashes and jagged ground baked into ceramics. Not even a blade of grass was left on the scorched earth.

Wolf looked at this ruined land and once again felt guilt and hatred surge.

If only I was stronger! If only I was more ruthless! It’s all the bandits’ fault. As Wolf thought he realized he made a fallacy.

No, it’s not the bandits… It’s the men that sent them here and that mad Emperor that plunged this land into such horrible times.

He never once thought that this was Archibald’s or his fault. If they had prepared for it, they could’ve fled the scene with nothing but a couple of Fourth and Fifth Order spells. And yet the thought never crossed the boy’s mind.

Wolf started moving irrationally. He wanted to gather mementos of the caravan guards that died protecting his father.

Unfortunately, after scouring the surroundings for the longest time Wolf had only found a couple of Rings of Holding, as well as a bunch of lumps of ruined metal.

Wolf wanted to bring back something for the families of the deceased, but nothing survived the apocalypse that took place here.

“I will make sure to do something for your families. If by any chance I find you in your new lives I’ll make sure to do something for the new you as well.” Wolf vowed solemnly.

The words were more for his sake than Red’s and his company’s. Even if Wolf found them, they would have no memory of the sacrifice they’d made in this life.

Wolf eventually made a large stone monolith using magic and engraved the names of the men from the Johns and Josh that had lost their lives here. Most of them were just nicknames, but since he didn’t know their real names, this was the best he could do.

“I hope all of you lead a happy life, and I hope you never have to experience such a tragedy.”

After saying these parting words Wolf got up and checked the Rings of Holding he had gathered.

One after another Wolf checked their contents, getting more and more anxious.

“Where is it!? Where!?” He grit his teeth and when he checked the final ring he discovered that his father’s Ring of Holding wasn’t there.

Wolf rummaged around the area, milling about the place, picking up rings that belonged to the enemies, but the one Archibald had on his finger was nowhere to be found.

Finally, completely defeated and broken, the boy fell down on his knees and started crying once more.

“Can’t I even have his ring!?” He screamed and cursed in a wretched voice as he kept striking the ground with his tiny, bloody fists.