He opened his eyes. A face was looking down at him. It was Epona, and her angry expression was all too familiar to him. It was also oddly comforting. Yet his eyes traveled to something else that he noticed. He spotted the wound in her arms and pointed at it with all the energy he could muster, which wasn’t much. It felt as though he was moving his hand through a thick layer of cement. “You,” he said, his throat attacked by a thousand nails. He tried swallowing the small drop of spittle he could gather and tried again. “You are hurt.”

Epona’s face softened. “Ye are hurt worse.”

Maitho cough-laughed. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

She tried to smile, but Maitho could see that his joke didn’t have its intended effect. His eyes closed before he could register anything else.

Voices.

Two of them. Then there was a third.

Something cold pressed against his cheek. He opened his eyes to Brigid’s face. The shock of seeing her sent a flow of energy that he didn’t know he had coursing through his veins. He tried to use his elbows to push himself up. Another face appeared. It was Charon. He placed his hand on Maitho’s chest. “I want you to relax now.”

Maitho didn’t know if seeing the entity who made him a Guardian was any comfort. He at least knew that he wouldn’t be attacked. He turned his head around to see another familiar face. His eyes found Bevan, who seemed to hold a hardened expression on his face. Words came into Maitho's mind, each of them a form of explanation. He really wanted to say something to bridge the gap that existed between them.

He wanted to do so many things at the same time. If only he had the power to multiply, he might possibly be able to make amends to everyone and perhaps, bring them all together.

Maitho’s eyes felt heavy. He wanted to keep them open. But the lull of sleep was too strong. He tried to say something, but he wasn’t certain if he had managed to speak.

When he next opened his eyes, he was looking at the night sky sprinkled with a thousand stars. It was like looking at a dark fabric decorated with tiny white polka dots. Then an object appeared at the bottom of his vision, moving towards the top before disappearing from sight. There were motes of pale yellow lights dancing around that object. Another one slid into his vision. Then another. His mind made connections. Those were the tops of trees. The dancing lights were fireflies.

Sensations began to form all around his body. The surface he was lying on seemed unsteady. It swayed beneath him and for a moment, he wondered if he was feeling light-headed. That was when he heard the sounds of water slapping against a solid surface. He frowned. Those sounded like waves. That thought alone was enough to make him prop himself up on his elbows.

He looked around and discovered that he was in a boat. The entire vessel was small, barely enough to fit half a dozen people. At its bow was a tall wooden pole, atop which hung a lantern.

But what caught his attention was the hooded figure sitting on the thwart at the front of the boat. The figure had chains coiling around its body like metal scarves. Out of one sleeve appeared a bony hand that held a long staff that was easily taller than an average human being. In the figure’s hood was darkness that produced the uneasy feeling of swallowing Maitho into its depths. He knew who the figure was. He recognized Charon immediately, having seen him transform into his true self when he tried to stop the fight between the Celtic team and Raiden.

Maitho looked around him, noticing that the boat was swaying on a gentle stream. Apart from the single wooden plank atop which Charon sat, the boat featured a flat surface as a bottom. It was probably meant to carry the passengers. The river itself seemed to glow with an unnatural light. Peering over the gunwale, Maitho noticed that steam rose from the waters. He inhaled a little of the rising vapor and instantly felt lightheaded. It was only when he sat within the boundaries of the boat that the sensation subsided. He rubbed his forehead, trying to clear the last of the cobwebs that had formed in his mind and looked over at Charon.

“You are not entirely dead,” said Charon. His voice seemed to come from deep within the void in his hood, as though he was talking from the bottom of a deep well. Yet it was as clear as someone speaking to Maitho from a couple of feet away.

“Then why am I here?” said Maitho, his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered what was happening in the world of the living. Was he in some kind of coma? Or was he still lying on the concrete in front of the Celtic team base? Thinking about his fate made him ponder about Quinn, and he felt a pang of guilt course through him.

“You can choose to be entirely dead,” came the response from Charon.

“Why would I do that?”

“That is not my question to answer. Why do you choose to live? Why do you prefer to die?”

Maitho wanted to answer. He knew that he had an unfinished task to accomplish. But did he really? His eyes once again took in his surroundings. On the banks on either side of what was clearly a river—or more specifically the River Styx if Maitho’s guess was correct—stood a wall of trees that extended to either direction. They stood like silent towers, and beyond them lay nothing but inky darkness. There was something about the dark that made it seem alive. It was like a living being, pulsing with some primordial energy. Tendrils of shadows leaked out beyond the wall of trees, like desperate hands reaching out through the gaps in prison bars, but stopped before they could reach the river.

“So if I want, I can choose to just leave this place?” said Maitho.

“Sure, if you really want to.” Charon lifted the staff and plunged it into the river with a delicate movement. He rowed once and the boat took on speed. The staff was withdrawn, having served its purpose, and balanced across the width of the boat on the gunwales. He then clasped his hands in front of him. “It’s your desire to want to live or die. I merely approve your request.”

“Why are you giving me a choice?” said Maitho. “You take people into the underworld without question.”

“Except when there are special circumstances.”

“Like mine?”

Charon nodded. “Like yours. You are not entirely dead. But you are standing at the precipice. You can choose to take a step back and put on a fight for whatever little time you have left. Or you can choose to plunge into the darkness, allow yourself to bring your struggles to an end.”

Maitho tried to see if he could discover where the river led to, yet all he saw was a line of glowing water that seemed to stretch towards the horizon. It was the same behind him. In a way, the river made him think about his life. It didn’t matter if he had a few days to live or if he was gifted his entire lifetime. There never seemed to be a destination. It just had a horizon that he could never reach.

This was his chance. He had caused the death of a friend and put another’s life in danger. How much more damage would he end up causing?

“Is it a painless journey?” said Maitho.

“You are not in the land of the living to feel pain,” said Charon. Even now, the entity’s voice was emotionless. There wasn’t a sense of compassion, nor was there any trace of mockery. "To answer your question directly, yes. Your death will cause no physical discomfort."

Many people dreamed about finding a painless end to their lives. Few people ever got a chance to experience it. Oddly, despite the shadows on either side, Maitho felt at peace. He simply wanted to close his eyes and sleep, leaving behind everything that ever sought to destroy his life. No more schemes to threaten him. No more people trying to use him.

He had made up his mind. “Alright then. I think I know where I am going.”

Raiden looked at the sky above. Because he was connected to the very forces of lightning, he could understand the weather. It would rain anytime. Maybe not within the next few minutes, but more than likely within the next hour. He looked down at the sleeping form of Maitho and wondered if Brigid’s healing would be enough. If it was, what next? How are they going to move forward from this point onwards? It wasn't as though everyone would simply shake hands after Maitho came back to them and simply went on their way. No, there was too much bad blood between them. He knew that Charon had intervened and had asked them to rescue Maitho. After that, the ancient ferryman simply disappeared somewhere, probably to take care of other matters. Raiden didn’t get the opportunity to pursue his train of thoughts. Brigid’s eyes had narrowed.

“Good news or bad news Brigid?” he said, cocking his head to one side and looking at her face. He wanted to catch any nuances of her reactions to determine if she might choose to lie to him.

“Bad news,” said Brigid. She wasn’t lying. “His heartbeat just got fainter.”

“An donas dubh,” cursed Epona. Her way of saying ‘damnit’. “Heal faster.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Brigid. Her eyes locked on to her teammate. Well, ex-teammate, thought Raiden. But there was not even the faintest trace of friendliness in her look.

For her part, Epona didn’t return an amiable look as well. She looked ready to retort. Before they started trading blows, Raiden interrupted. “Is it his injuries?”

At first, Brigid didn’t detach from her staring contest. Then she seemed to reluctantly look at Raiden. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s strange because his physical wounds are healing fast. But somehow, his heart rate is slowing down. Right now, I can easily count a few seconds before each beat.”

Something clicked in Raiden’s mind. The sudden departure of Charon and now Maitho’s slowing heartbeat. There was no way that the two incidents were not related. Besides, he knew that Brigid was one of the most powerful healers he knew of. Despite the damage Adahlia had done, it wasn’t enough to prevent the Celtic healer from bringing Maitho back to life.

No, there was another event occurring beyond the mortal realm. An idea formed in his mind.

“Did you say that his heartbeat is slowing down?” said Raiden. He already knew the answer to the question, but he was running a plan in his mind and he simply wanted to speak out loud.

“Yes. I can barely feel it now.” Brigid withdrew her hands from the prone body. “I did everything I could.”

“Dinnae ye stop healin.” Epona practically snarled.

“And don’t you dare talk to me like that ever again.” Brigid spoke through clenched teeth.

“Ladies,” said Raiden, spreading his arms wide and offering a smile to both of them. “Let’s not practice violence when one of our friends needs us.”

“He’s not our friend,” said Adahlia.

Her contribution, just like most times, was of no use. But Raiden would not admit that. “Well, an acquaintance then.” He walked over to Maitho and looked down at him. “Nothing in life is to be feared; it is only to be understood.”

He heard Adahlia’s scoff with so much clarity, it was as though she had used a microphone. “Who said that? Einstein? Newton?”

Sometimes Raiden wondered what qualities gave her the authority she had. Definitely not her intellect. “Marie Curie,” he said. Sparks began to coil around his arm. He focused his attention on Maitho. “You have been running away for too long my friend.”

The clouds above began to circle, as though they were about to form a tornado. “You cannot keep doing that,” Raiden continued. “If you truly wish to die, then you better die a warrior, not a victim. You can't simply choose to quit in the middle of a battle and leave others without guidance. That's not how things work.”

A rumble sounded above like a thousand drums banging in unison. Flashes of energy pulsed in the dark sky above, revealing cloud formations. The chorus of lights and sounds continued to intensify. Raiden pointed his hand at the sky. “You need to stop fearing, Maitho.” His voice rose, as though he was performing an ancient chant. The clouds seemed to move downwards like a beast opening its mouth to swallow anyone below them. “You need to start understanding. Then you need to start moving forward.”

As if a signal was delivered, a bolt of lightning flashed down from the sky and struck Maitho in the chest.