Daniel didn't bother looking back. The resounding rumble from the frog's leap gave him a pretty complete idea of what had happened behind him. Then came the screams; they sounded distant, smothered. Had it landed on top of someone? Sounded like Sofia. Was everyone helping her crushed too? Damn it, he'd risk it.
The boy turned back for a brief instant, just in time to witness the air come alive in the shape of some terrible video game elemental. Before he could lament on what a bad idea pausing for a moment was with that thing joining his pursuer, the living cyclone reached down and... turned on the frog? Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to appreciate his savior, as the frog belched it away with a screech that shook the trees. The Brazilian kid, apparently emboldened by the display rather than rightfully disturbed, began tossing rocks at the beast, as if that would suffice where the giant wind monster had failed. Shame about Maive - Danny assumed she was the one dangling from the frog's tongue, given what Orlando said - but he certainly wasn't going to join her just to look like the hero.
So, in true heroic fashion, he turned back and resumed his desperate sprint. That was at least two people the frog had to content itself with before it'd get to him; maybe it'd be full after that and leave him alone. Not that it gave him a way off the island, but it bought him time. He'd been doing nothing but buying time lately. This dream was quickly turning into a psychoanalyst's wet dream, and he'd really appreciate the opportunity to wake up soon. When Daniel crossed the treeline and emerged back onto the shore, the full weight of his powerlessness came crashing down on him at last. Sure, he could dive into that weird water, but there's no way he'd outswim a giant frog. Without another island in sight, he wouldn't have a feasible escape even if he could, and it wasn't like he knew how to make a raft.
Trying to cross at last? Ah, but thou hast picked the wrong shore.A voice whispered through his head, driving the building stress headache from earlier into an explosive crescendo near instantly. A hand shot up to clutch at his forehead reflexively as he drilled his eyes shut, now more focused on the voice than the frog behind him for some inexplicable reason. It sounded much like his own, but parched and raspy, as if it hadn't been used in a long, long time.
Unkind fate after unkind fate findeth thee.
Thinkest thou 'tis not weirdly fucked up?
But alas, the threshold may only be crossed one way, whether fairly or unfairly traversed.
Acceptance remaineth as the sole path.
Passivity shan't create a way back to what hath been lost.Daniel had no idea what the hell his mind-voice was talking about, struggling as he was to remain on his feet while waves of pain throbbed through his head with every syllable it uttered, but the words resonated with his soul nevertheless. It wanted him to do... something, but he couldn't begin to fathom what.
Thine old self is dead and buried, beneath falsehood and castigation and shame, yet thou lingerest still before the ferry.
Canst thou not muster but a single coin for passage?
Or dost thou still believe a return is possible?
Art thou too afraid to pass on for fear that Elysium awaiteth not on the far shore?
Surely any destination appealeth more than this purgatory.Purgatory? Was he dead? His brain went in circles; every line of thought he could manage through the pain nonsensically circled back to what the voice had said, and he had to admit, any destination
did appeal right now. If he had a goal, a destination, a light in the distance to follow, he could at least say he'd tried. But he had nothing to give; no coins, nothing.
Dwell not upon thy former wealth, thou shalt have no need of it.
I ask for merely an obol, a drachma, a danake; a paltry sum to pay the toll.It came to him at last.
"I don't know the way forward anymore," Danny mumbled ruefully to himself,
"Not just here. Not just on this stupid dream island. I try not to think about it because it just makes me angry, but- but I have no idea where I'm going in life. I'm sixteen and it's already over, because I was stupid." The confession left his lips sourly, washed away by the sounds of the tide and the rattling of trees and chaos of a demon frog wreaking havoc upon the island, yet to Daniel the words seemed to hang in the air over him tauntingly.
"And I know it's stupid because I could be so much worse off, but I hate it. I'm selfish and spoiled and I don't care; I hate it."The invisible talons of pain relented of their grip on his head at once, replaced with a penetrating chill that crept up his spine like grasping hands intent on tugging him down into the grave. It was ominous, dangerous even, but Daniel felt no fear. It posed no threat to him; his way forward had already been secured.
The toll is paid. Let the contract be sealed.
I am thou, thou art I...
No matter how harrowing the waters, there is no river that cannot be navigated.
The ferry departeth, and thy faithful guide waiteth patiently for thee to step aboard.
If thou seekest passage, thou needst only call my name.The name in question came to him as surely as he knew his own.
"Kharon!" Danny shouted as he staggered back into the brush. Mist coalesced in his wake, as if the icy chill that had seized him now extended to the air itself. A shadow loomed from within the cloud that grew taller at the boy's back with every step as his stride grew more steady and resolute. By the time the frog was back in sight, the wisps of shadow had solidifed into the soiled tatters of a rotting garment, floating in the sea breeze with ethereal languidity. A desiccated hand breached the veil of mist, holding within a gnarled oar of petrified wood that the figure swung with uncanny speed for its decrepit appearance, dissipating the curtain of fog.
The figure, now revealed, raised his cowled head to look upon the giant frog, his features still veiled by darkness aside from his unkempt beard. Another decaying hand rose, pointing at the frog in admonishment.
"Fuck your rocks, I'm killing this thing," Danny snarled, and Kharon mirrored his rage. Twin flames of eerie blue sparked to life beneath the Persona's hood, like two eyes burning with fury. Shadows coiled along its outstretched finger like flowing ink, which congealed at the tip of the extended digit briefly before they leapt off and wound through the air in a serpentine coil, intent on striking right into the amphibious enemy.