rustling robes of the reaper

[charles]

for generations, he fought - true to his cause, only to his nature. determined to prove himself to others, yet his efforts were shrugged away - recognized only by a few blessed ones.

blessed souls by the might of his strength, knowledge overflowing to recognize beauty and effort at its best.

but determination alone was not enough to break the skies.

in a far place, not in the mortal's realm, a soul rested, and within that soul: madness took place, and from above that woman's head - only the insane would see the strings attached, no hand at all making this puppet dance. 

except for a giant, enourmous and floating eye - staring, always looking. always watchful.

but alas, as Phalanx's last breath is drawn, punches being thrown in a fight between father and daughter, the soul's energy flows out of his body, the unarmed champion's will being passed forward, perhaps forever. 

peace was found, and with his soul stricken down - the old warrior finally going to the other side.

to join the otherside is to meet with old friends and rivals, to join the otherside is to see people who you adore, idolize, and especially, people whom you miss.

face to face, finally, kondar's mad fox and the unarmed champion stand. in some unknown realm, a place far, far from home - far from anyone; destined to meet, destined to fight.

the showdown that never happened. the showdown that wasn't meant to be. yet... here they are. the one who inspires and the one who aspires.

one blessed by his will to fight, the will to go beyond the magi limit - to reach the stars.

another cursed by their knowledge, by the visions from outer space - or so she claims.

destined to fight, to prove something. ANYTHING.

yet...

slowly, a smile forms on her lips. "you did enough" she breaks the silence of the beyond, of afterlife.

"you are indeed, the best. no mad fox could beat you now."

and thus, the white kitsune walks past Phalanx's soul.

"it's time for the megetu clan to be made known."

"and you? you rest easy. for a dark light is born of your death, these humans' lips bleed a putrid poison over your cadaver, and blood brings the vicious beast outside."

a last glance is given to the new soul, "the very thought of it falls to the flames below."

"but ah... the rain of ages plots again to wash away revelation..."

"see you soon, phalanx landarke."