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“It forced me to do all those horrible things. But, but now I’m free,” Belos pointed to Luz with innocent, glistening eyes.
Belos felt he knew the sympathies of this girl, he had played upon her insecurities once before, centuries ago. He focused on his first form, weak and helpless, entirely human, Philip. Before he learned the light glyph and found the conduit to contact the Collector. Her trusting and kind nature helping a poor human wanting to go back home was what he needed to set his plan in motion. This act should plead to the corrupted girl’s good graces.
Out of nowhere, a droplet of rain singed Belos’s gloved hand. He yelped and recoiled his arm. Grasping his wrist, he noticed the speck of green slime leaking from the wound. A downpour of the acid rain was melting his fake flesh and reveals the once powerful monstrosity possessing the Titan’s heart as nothing more than a pile of sludge and bones. Belos dropped to the ground as the pain was too much for him to bear.
“Ah! Quickly now! Don’t you want to make peace, Luz? Caleb?” he crawled toward the girl as more sludge oozed from his melting skin.
Luz only stood there with a cold glare in her eyes. Why wasn’t his plan working this time? This brat was supposed to be on the side of purity and kindness. Taking on this weak form, blaming his actions on a non-existing curse so she'd equate his suffering to that of her appointed mentor, and pleading for mercy should have her walking to him and lending a helping hand to him. Yet, she just stands there and looks down at him.
“Don’t just stand there,” he groans as more skin melts off and slumps onto the dirt ground.
Why did this feel familiar to him? His plan was failing, but it wasn’t the searing pain or failed ruse that disturbed Belos within his core.
His disguise washed away with the boiling droplets pouring down on him. The whites of his scleras melted away into hollow holes adorning only glowing blue irises and swampy green sludge which was barely holding together his weary old bones. Slime sizzling away with each passing minute the Boiling Isles continued the slow assault of deadly rain.
Neither of these forces deterred him from dragging his monstrous and oozing body towards Luz. The digging of his desperate fingerbones into the foul mud pulled his torso along all the better as he seemed to have lost his pelvis at some point.
“You’ll be just as bad. They are bad! Just as conniving. They’ve corrupted you! Just as evil. They are evil! And just as unforgivable as those witches! You can’t forgive these witches Caleb!”
Belos realized what felt familiar. His taunts at Luz’s affiliation with witches reminded him of his confrontation with Caleb. The distant memory resurfacing with recollections of that horrid day.
—
Philip was finally alone with Caleb after convincing that witch to leave.
Caleb asked to meet with Philip and Evelyn in the woods to discuss something important. Whatever it is, it must be about finding something “wondrous” in this land tainted by magic and sin. God knows what that witch has done to corrupt his brother’s poor soul.
No matter how many times Philip tried to convince Caleb they didn’t belong here, his brother wouldn’t hear it. He babbled endlessly about the beauty of the Boiling Isles and the kindness these witches showed him. What a load of rubbish!
To make matters worse, he has to witness Caleb and Evelyn having … a sacrilegious relationship. It was already horrible for Caleb to befriend witches, but being in love with one made his blood boil. He was taught and shown how despicable these vile creatures were back in Gravesfield. Philip will not stand by and watch any longer.
It took some careful maneuvering, but Philip was able to convince Caleb he wanted to spend quality time with his brother alone. Evelyn had been skeptical of Philip since their first meeting and tonight was no exception. Luckily, Caleb’s obliviousness and familial love proved fruitful for Philip as the foul witch left when his brother asked. Although his senses were subjected to more flirtatious gibberish from the two, he gritted his teeth knowing his plan will commence once she is gone.
Philip observes Caleb placing the lit lantern on the ground and walking around the surrounding area. He keeps eyes on his brother without moving from his position and waiting patiently. They knew this clearing in the woods outside of Bonesborough thanks to … Evelyn. She would often take Caleb to perform magic and other sinister rituals becoming of a witch. This secret spot brings disgust just thinking about what Caleb witnesses. But he did scope the area and realized it would make a perfect venue to privately converse with his brother.
Looking satisfied with his work, Caleb returns to the spot opposite of him. This was his only chance to speak freely without Evelyn interfering.
“Alright Philip, what did you want to talk about?” Caleb asked.
“Caleb please reconsider my previous offer,” Philip coldly demanded without flinching from his position.
Caleb’s smile curved into a frown. Philip wasn’t surprised by his brother’s reaction whenever the topic of leaving the Boiling Isles entered the conversation. He was relentless in trying to take Caleb away from this rotten world and back to their home in Gravesfield. Even though he rejected the idea numerous times, he didn’t want to give up the only family he had. Neither of them did after all they'd been through.
“I am not going back. This place is wonderful. Why would I want to leave?”
His last statement struck Philip to the core. Philip’s knuckles turned white under his gloved hand as he gripped the dagger tighter and tighter. How could Caleb think there were no reasons to leave this nightmare? Anger and betrayal boiled within him while keeping his appearance stoic and unfazed. He could only think of one answer to his brother’s ridiculous question.
“Because they are witches, Caleb. They are evil. You remember the horrors and tales of the wickedness of magic. It taught us they are untrustworthy hands of the devil himself and this corpse we walk on proves it. We don’t belong here.”
“Why can’t you get past this? Have you not interacted with any of the residents here? I’m a human but they welcomed me with open arms,” Caleb raised his own arms and motioned them to the forest surrounding them. “I love it here and I love –.”
“Don’t you dare utter her name!” Philip snapped.
The mere thought of his brother consorting with witches and even laying with one was … abhorred and filthy. Enough was enough.
“You can’t forgive these witches Caleb! Remember they are evil incarnate created by the devil to purge goodness from humanity! You can not purge the sins from these witches! Their magic sullies even the purest of good souls. Just like you.” Philip moved his arm and raised his dagger towards his brother.
Philip saw Caleb quickly reaching for a dagger hidden in the hem of his trousers. He didn’t want to harm his brother, even if he was deranged. But it was too late to help Caleb and this was the only way to release him from the vile clutches of those horrid witches.
“Ph-philip please. Let’s calm down and just talk?”
“They’ve corrupted you! That witch has cursed you to perform these wicked atrocities. I’m doing this to save your soul,” Philip kicked the lantern.
The beacon flew in an arch to shatter against a tree trunk spreading flaming seeds of oil in all directions. Embers bred where they fell, dancing in the wind and spreading to bright red leaves which the wind carried further yet from the blaze’s origins. A forest fire engulfed the lands and trapped the brothers in a ring of hellfire.
Taking advantage of the blaze, Philip lunged at Caleb. Raising his dagger to strike down the brother he no longer recognizes. Righteous fury overtaking his usual patient and calculating methods.
Caleb dodged to the left with the blade barely missing his neck. His feet nearly lost balance, but he quickly stopped himself from tumbling to the ground. He looks up at his brother from a defensive stance . His eyes still held the same blistering anger from his previous outburst. The fire didn’t waver his conviction of completing his current mission.
“Philip, please stop this! I don’t want to fight you!” he pleaded.
Philip could feel his breath getting heavy and his eyes drooping. The heat and smoke from the forest fire was affecting him. But he cannot stop his mission. He has to save his brother’s soul from the wicked clutches of those detestable witches.
But his legs started to shiver and could not hold him any longer. Philip dropped to the ground and started coughing. He used his left arm to stop his body from hitting the ground while his right hand pressed on the ground to prop him. His fingers lay flat on top of the handle of his dagger and his head bowing down as he continues to cough roughly.
Moments later, Philip felt something on his back. But he wasn’t afraid as he knew it was Caleb trying to soothe his current condition.
“Philip, are you okay?”
He couldn’t even raise his head to answer. The coughing soon turned raspy and his body was starting to quiver. If nothing is done, they will surely die from the blaze and smoke surrounding them.
“Come on we have to –,” a swift slash cut him off.
Philip calmed his breathing and raised his head to gaze at Caleb’s eyes. He could see the horror and shock from the look his brother gave him. But that matters not to Philip as he has finished the task of freeing Caleb’s soul from falling more into depravity. He has saved him from those savage witches.
The wind pushes Caleb’s wounded body to the ground and groans fill the air as the motion ignites a searing pain in his back. Philip hoists himself up, but drops the dagger. He heard a thump from it hitting the dirt, but he didn’t care. The crooked blade had fulfilled its duty.
“W-w-wh-h-y?” were his last words before sinking into the cold unconscious.
Philip tried calming his breaths. Although he faked his condition to lure his brother, the fire still had an effect on him. Once his lungs are restored, he brushes off the ash on his coat and returns to his brother’s, now dead, form.
He didn’t want to do this, but he had no other choice. Caleb was too far gone and killing him was the only way to free him. He felt no remorse, no pain, no anguish from what he had done. Witnessing what this world has done to even the purest soul like his brother was more horrifying than slaying him with his own hands. He had done no wrong compared to the evil atrocities the witches committed.
Although dead, Philip wanted to answer Caleb’s question. He turned to the dagger with the tip colored by the blood of betrayal and stared at his own eyes from its reflection.
—
“We’re human. We’re better than this!” Belos grasped Luz’s ankles as he gazed up at her, having finally closed the distance between them.
He tried tightening his grip, but she easily broke his hold as she backed away. His body was eroding more as the boiling rain kept pouring down on the Isles. The green muck melting into the ground and his borrowed bones sizzling away as their protective cover disintegrated. But his skull still remained, though just barely as his jaw kept swaying loosely in its sockets.
Something felt wrong to Belos as he kept staring up at her golden hues. Luz’s unfazed expression of coldness looked familiar. She hasn’t spoken a word since the end of their battle and that unnerved him. But why was this familiar?
Suddenly, as if summoned by his nagging mind, the spirit of his dead brother appeared behind Luz. The same ghost with a diagonal slash on his shirt and a blood tipped dagger hovering above his head as always attended his memories. Caleb was skin and bones and his eyes adorned dark rimmed circles as they had been in death. He looked exhausted and frail, but his gaze wore the same cold disdain as Luz’s.
Belos realized the true haunting familiarity of Luz’s actions. It was never about the past of killing his brother for the sake of saving him. It was never about the past still tormenting as his body falls apart. I was never about what happened back then. What horrified Belos was the unity of two humans whomever met. Two people who had embraced the idiosyncrasies of this Hell he’d try so hard to escape from for centuries. A fallen soul who never left his sight and a child he assumed would never amount to more than a thorn in his side. They stood looking down on him with the same halo of golden light rising around them with the morning sun.
His eye sockets harbored disgust and anger.This wasn't supposed to be his end. Magic corrupts the soul to do wicked horrors upon humanity. He was the savior to protect humans from the tainted clutches of those vile and deplorable witches and demons from this plane of hell he’d been sucked into. Once his mission was victorious, he would return to the human realm a hero to the masses.
Caleb’s soul dispersed as Raine, Eda, and King walked past Luz. A giant leaf covered them to protect the three as they bent down and got closer to Belos, now little more than a skull covered in melted goop that stains the ground below him.
“Well we ain't!” Eda shouted.
Belos’s anger turned to fright as he saw them raise their feet off the ground. Fear engulfed him as he figured out what they were about to do. He didn’t want to end like this.
Two boots and a claw swiftly stomped the last remaining remnant of Belos. They didn’t stop until slime and bone were completely eradicated from the Boiling Isles.
“That was extremely satisfying,” Raine admitted.
“Ew it’s in my claws. Weh,” King wiggled his leg to dislodge the green slime and bone fragments from the fur between his digits.
The former Emperor of the Boiling Isles was now just as much rotting filth in the mud, finally free of his self appointed mission.