Conquering the Stars with the Undead
Chapter 79: A Play’s Meaning

Chapter 79: A Play’s Meaning

The lights dimmed, and the stage was now empty. Faint whisps of smoke and orange sparks lingered, occasionally popping into view as if the final memories were chasing after their brethren.

Silence reigned over the audience, no one making a noise, not even a whisper. It was as if their ability to speak had been ripped from them with the Lantern Bearers’ age, replacing it with an eerie emptiness.

Charon didn’t move.

His eyes were locked on the curtains, roaming them for any sign that he had been mistaken. His breath released, cold and shallow, as if his life was fading.

’I wasn’t there.’

He wanted to deny it, to find a justification for his face not being part of the crowd, and yet none came. It was as if the troupe had forgotten him specifically, leaving him out of their collage.

Around him, the others began to stir.

First, it was a sniffle from Annie, followed by her rubbing her eyes to clean the tears. Liam hunched forward, his hands folded and his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. His foot tapped nervously, the rhythm matching the endless ticking of the watch.

Darius had yet to move, his arms crossed and his expression set in steely determination, as if contemplating something serious. Red was unreadable, her posture perfectly controlled.

If Charon hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed she missed the entire performance.

Emerius then leaned in, his voice low.

"Where were you?"

Charon blinked, jarred back to the present. Turning to face him, he frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Emerius nodded towards the stage, his eyes hard.

"I did not see you among the ghosts. I was able to find everyone, but never you, despite how many times I searched."

Charon stiffened.

"I noticed that too. I kept looking, but nothing."

A cold pit formed in his stomach.

"Maybe they forgot about me. There are lots of audience members."

He knew it was wrong the moment he said it. The production details were too controlled. Forgetting something, such as a single person, went against everything else they showcased.

Emerius just shook his head.

"I could not say. Regardless, it does not bode well. We should leave."

With those words, he stood and looked down at Darius, the handsome man turning to look back. He didn’t speak immediately, his thoughts impossible to read, but eventually gave in.

"Let’s go. We can find something else to do."

As if awoken from a stupor, Liam, Annie, and Red all stood at once, each one lost in their minds. They all walked out in a daze, barely noticing even as they stepped into the fresh air of the outdoors.

Emerius guided them to a nearby park, the group sitting at a circular bench.

His eyes remained locked on Charon throughout, unspoken questions obvious on his lips, and yet he left him in peace.

’That whole thing felt so real. I swear I was there, like I met the Lantern Bearer myself. I could feel the fear, the suffering. My very existence felt in jeopardy.’

He had never experienced anything like it. The masterful level of skill he witnessed was once-in-a-lifetime.

It was something he would never forget.

Liam broke the silence, his usually loud voice strangely strained.

"Watching all that made me hungry. I feel like I could eat an ox, maybe two."

Annie glanced at him, her eyes red for reasons unknown, before letting out a chuckle.

"I swear to the gods, you’d eat food at a funeral if you felt hungry. We all just watched something heartbreaking, and you’re out here wanting to eat!"

She spoke with mock insult, no harm intended by her statements, yet it still made Liam frown.

"Heartbreaking? The play wasn’t sad at all; it was about testing yourself and growing! That’s why the kid kept at it! The point was dedication!"

Darius raised an eyebrow.

"I disagree with both of you. It was about protecting others. It was a bit hidden, I will admit, but notice the themes of the people who came to him. A mother wanting to save her child, a noble who wanted to help his people, even the Lantern Bearer himself sacrificed his life to add the memories to the flame."

The others turned to face him during his explanation, all of them confused, especially when Emerius added a fourth perspective.

"I believe it was about loyalty to your purpose."

All eyes snapped to him.

"Even when things grew difficult, he stuck with his given task. He knew not where it came from, or why he was chosen, and yet he still gave it his all, even when it was killing him. There was no doubt in his mind that it was his calling, proof be damned."

Charon’s eyes narrowed in thought before widening in uncertainty.

As if expecting him to speak, the others faced him, acknowledging that he was the only one who had yet to comment.

’Except for Red, but I don’t really anticipate her deciding to talk normally now.’

Rubbing his chin, he reflected on their entire thing from beginning to end and formulated an opinion.

"I think it was about legacy. That was the whole point. Everyone wanted their memories to be taken, but not everyone’s could. Just like how some people are remembered, and others forgotten. It was a reminder about how strict the future is; only the best can be taken."

As he was speaking, he realized that the difference in opinion might have been the true lesson, a realization that the others seemed to make at the same time.

Emerius tilted his head to the side, his blonde hair refusing to move even as the wind fought it.

"Perhaps that is the true lesson; everyone will interpret things differently. When the people came to the Lantern Bearer, they all wanted their uniqueness to be preserved. How that manifests will never be the same."

Liam grimaced.

"What about the end bit? The faces. I hadn’t thought I’d see myself, but there I was."

Charon shifted nervously, preferring not to talk about that particular scene.

’I don’t know what it unsettles me so much. For all I know, they put me in the back, and I was behind someone tall.’

A chill went down his spine, as if his body was telling him there was more to it.

To make matters worse, the Warden of the Acheron chose that moment to speak, his cold voice booming across Charon’s mind.

’Unusual.’

The statement chilled him to his core, an ominous affirmation that there was more to it than his paranoia.

’You think I should be worried, buddy? I feel like I should be, too, I just can’t figure out why!’

Darius gave Charon an affirming look, his eyes tracing from his robes to Liam, as if concluding a query.

"Charon may be more correct than the rest of us. The faces confused me as well, but if the goal was the exclusivity of legacy, then it would fit that all of us were on stage. We are the people vying for remembrance, and the historians are the ones who will decide who passes on and who gets obliterated by time."

Annie scoffed before smiling widely. She leaned back on the wooden bench, doing her best to lounge leisurely.

"That sounds about right. All of you better watch out, I’ll be the one choosing you if you live on or explode like a tomato! Fear my endless might!"

Liam threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the park and drawing countless glances. His chest bounced with the action, shaking their seating.

"That’ll be the day! I’d be the one picking who went on or not! You saw the amount of bravery that took!"

She shook her head and crossed her arms.

"It took wisdom more than anything! He had to know who to accept and who to refuse! You would pick based on how much someone could bench press rather than if they deserved it!"

He feigned anger and jabbed a meaty finger at her chest, making sure not to press too hard.

"That’s an important method! If someone can’t lift, they don’t deserve to be remembered! If history were just about the strong, then it might actually be fun to read!"

She rolled her eyes and smirked, opening her mouth to retort when Darius stalled her with a hand, his gaze locked on Red.

Turning to face her, Charon noted that she was leaning forward, her eyes narrowed and her shoulders tensed.

She took a deep breath, some of the tension leaving her as she exhaled, and yet much remained. She looked like a spring ready to explode into motion.

Darius reached out and nudged her, his face full of concern.

"Red?"

With uncharacteristic emotion, she jerked away from his touch, her legs raising as she held them to her chest.

Everyone watched and waited, expecting some kind of explanation. Minutes passed as the girl slowly uncoiled, her legs lowering back to the ground as she shivered.

Then, as if finally ready, she looked at the rest of them.

One sentence left her lips, full of the usual cryptic messaging.

"A weed has entered the garden."