Dolis appeared in his father's throne room, his head pounding. "This is getting out of hand."
Before Xiros could respond, the two of them felt the massive presence of souls appearing before them. It had been like this for weeks, the realm seeing a large intake of the dead. Xiros had predicted this would happen, but not at this alarming rate.
Xiros held a hand out, letting each soul rest in his hand as he judged the course of action for each soul to take in the afterlife. "This is concerning," he told Dolis.
"How did the mortals hear about this? Surely the gods and the council wouldn't have wished for this."
Xiros took care of the remaining five souls before turning to his son. "The gods must've told their followers. Answered their prayers and offered this opportunity to them as well."
Dolis scoffed. "And spark this? Death and wreckage to Estruela?"
Xiros frowned. "It is rather outrageous."
"It's putting a strain on you and the others. It'll be like the Great War all over again. Surely you can feel Dulo's blood stirring?"
Though he knew his father felt the thrumming, he asked to confirm it. Xiros had always been more keen and able to manage the subtle changes in Dulo's curse; Dolis, however, had lost the ability during the war. One simple bout of rage could make Dolis snap, chaos wreaking havoc on whatever was around him.
"Yes," Xiros said meekly. "It is troubling, but we must endure, Dolis."
"Your realm will be overrun." They watched as a dozen more souls appeared. "It's only been a couple of weeks."
Xiros took the souls in haste, acting his judgment over them, before sending them off accordingly. Most were sent off to a peaceful end, signifying that most had been innocent and faced needless deaths. The weight of that information was heavy on both of their shoulders.
Once they had been dealt with, Xiros peeled himself away from the throne, approaching the pacing Dolis, ignoring the incoming souls momentarily to address his son's concerns. "We will endure as we always have, son. This is nothing new for us."
Dolis shook his head. "You know it's different. This is far too much for us to deal with—for me to deal with. I cannot control Dulo's curse like you; you know this. If this continues and intensifies—"
Xiros took Dolis' shaky hands in his, squeezing them tightly before pressing his forehead against his. It had been a gesture Xiros had often done when Dolis was a young god, a cold and calming feeling spread down to his toes. "We will endure," he repeated. "I will not allow the curse to take you again."
"No," Dolis muttered. "Don't..."
He wasn't sure what he could say, but Dolis knew that promises were never either of their fortes. It was impossible with the curse they shared.
"If I were to lose myself," Dolis added with a shudder. "If I were to become like Dulo himself...All I ask is you put a stop to it before I ruin everything."
"Dolis—"
"I swear, father." Dolis gripped his arms, pulling their foreheads apart to stare into his father's obsidian eyes. "If it means facing an eternity of punishment or reliving these events of my past crimes in one of your perpetual time loops, I'd gladly take that over, letting everything burn at Dulo's cursed blood. You are the only one I can trust to stop me—possibly the only one that can."
Xiros, who prided himself in being stoic and steadfast, let out a shaky breath. "It will not come to that, I swear it."
It was an empty promise that Dolis knew neither of them could actualize; Dulo's curse was far more powerful than both combined.
"We both know that this conquest is growing out of control. We both can feel the strain it's putting on the people and the forest. They would decimate Estruela before anyone could find Terah's tree. It won't be long before Dulo's blood consumes either of us. At my current state, we both know it'll be me."
Xiros' eyes darkened, knowing the extent to which Dolis' words held the truth. The rise in death and destruction since the conquest began was a beacon to the darkness of their blood. No matter how diluted Dulo's blood had become over the years, even a drop of it to an average human would send a person completely mad; to a god, sharing Dulo's blood was a recipe for disaster.
"You know it's true." He gave Xiros a firm stare. "If it hadn't been for you and Thova insisting I be saved, I would've been reduced to nothingness, probably follow Dulo to the Void. It would've saved us from this whole thing."
"Dolis—"
"It would've been better if I had gone down with Dulo that day. Let the curse take over and destroy me with it," Dolis said shakily. "Thova should've never helped in healing me."
Xiros stepped unbearably close to him, gripping the sides of Dolis' head firmly. "Do not say such a thing again."
Dolis looked down in shame. Xiros was never strict or harsh to him in the past, but the intensity of his words now was more than enough for Dolis to fear what he'd do if he did say it again.
"I would've given up everything and more to bring you back from that war." Xiros loosened his hold on his son. "I know you did not ask to be brought into this world bearing the weight of destruction. I know how hard it's been on you, but this is who you are. It does not define you, nor should you let others use it as a weapon against you. It is easier said than done, but I promise that there is so much to live for. And that's coming from a god of death."
"It's hard when everything you think you live for gets destroyed."
"Not everything," Xiros said, looking into Dolis' eyes. "You can curse and hate me all you wish, but I'm still here."
Dolis' argument slipped away from him, his father's words hitting him like a tidal wave. He sighed, his eyes wandering to the floating souls that appeared during their argument, waiting for judgment. "What do we do, then?"
"We will do as we always have," Xiros said somberly. "Remain as calm as possible and focus on our duties to the people."
"Calm?" Dolis looked at him incredulously. "I cannot act calmly in such a situation. All I hear every day and night is their screams and pleas that I cannot answer."
"We must remain calm, Dolis. It is the only way to stifle the panic. Refrain from going near the forests, from the people, for now. Putting yourself on their warpath will only call for more destruction, you know this. Endure it."
Dolis knew better than to argue further; the tension in his shoulders fell. "And if I cannot endure it any longer?"
They shared a grim look between them. "We must. If we fail, we fail Estruela. It is not an option."
Dolis nodded, still unsure whether he'd be able to restrain Dulo's curse if things turned for the worst. In small pulses, it was possible to leave a situation and still the vicious taunts the blood had, but this was not small by any means. The rallying and piercing cries were only the beginning of what felt like another Great War.
He couldn't survive another event like that; he shouldn't have survived that time in the first place, not when many primordials vanished into the Void. Even Terah had not gone unscathed, her essence imprisoned in a tree form. It had been a miracle that she had not slipped into the Void with her brethren.
"You suggested searching for Terah's tree was a good idea?" Dolis spoke deliberately, remembering his father's words at the meeting. "That I'd have a chance at this contest?"
Xiros' jaw clenched. "I'm aware that I may have been wrong in my judgment—clouded by my emotions rather than responsibility. Though I still wish it and believe it will aid you, there is too much at stake."
"Too much at stake or a certainty of failure?"
The god of death readjusted his posture. "Dolis, I assure you there is still a chance this could work out in your favor; nothing is impossible. But, I ask you to proceed with caution. Weigh your options as I do for our souls here, and determine whether this is worth the risk."
Dolis let his words sink in, the faint glow from the waiting soul's orbs reminding him of the current situation. It was far too great a risk, too much to ask Estruela to pursue something based on a minuscule chance. And even if he had found Terah's tree and provided Daelia with a remotely beautiful leaf, there was no guarantee that he'd be the first or chosen, let alone earn a spot on the council that hated him.
Let alone Daelia finding him worthy of being called his equal regardless.
Intrinsically, he knew it was futile. Risking the wrath of Dulo's curse, even for something as guaranteed as Sothir's sun rising in the sky, was a terrible mistake.
Sensing the distress, Xiros placed a gentle hand on Dolis' shoulder. "There is always a choice, Dolis. Choose what is right to you, here—" he pointed to Dolis' heart, then up to his head. "—and here. I'll be here no matter what."
Dolis didn't say anything, despite the plethora of excuses and rhetorical questions he had swirling in his head. Sure, there were choices, but if Dolis picked the wrong one, it was more than just the mortals of Estruela that would fall to Dulo's curse.
"I must attend to the dead," Xiros said after a few pats on Dolis' shoulder. He turned up to the stone steps that led to the throne, stopping halfway to spare Dolis a glance. "Whatever you decide, I will stand by you."
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