MOTF Book II: Ascension Chapter 15

Arthur walked calmly through the Tranquility Spire, silently pondering a simple question; why? Why had the Jedi Council summoned him to the most sacred site in the entire Jedi Temple? For what purpose were they assembled in the Tranquility Spire? Why was he to join them? As he neared an archway, he suspected his questions were about to be answered. Arthur had never been to this part of the Jedi Temple before, and the room beyond the arch looked dark and cold, but he could feel his master’s presence.

Grand Master Mongooku’s presence was a blazing light in the darkness, bright and warm, a beacon to Arthur in his confusion. There was one detail in the entire situation that Arthur, despite his best efforts, could not fail to notice however. It was only Mongooku’s presence that he felt in the room beyond. He could not feel the presence of any other member of the Jedi Council in the room, only his master’s.

“Welcome Arthur,” Master Mongooku said as he stepped through the archway; out of the darkness and into the light. “I sense you are wondering why you have been summoned here.”

“Thank you my master,” Arthur replied with a bow. “But I doubt anyone who knows me would even need the Force to know that.”

“Indeed!” the Grand Master chuckled. “You were always a curious and inquisitive Padawan Arthur,” Mongooku observed. “It is one of the reasons you have come so far so fast as my Padawan, and you have failed to disappoint me in the past couple of years.”

Arthur always enjoyed hearing praise from his master. It reassured him that his efforts to be a greater Jedi were not in vain, but something was different here. The Grand Master’s words had a different weight and meaning to them than his usual praise. Mongooku was going somewhere with this, and Arthur still did not know where.

“You have been the greatest Padawan I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and these past two years have been some of the most fulfilling years of my life, but that time must come to an end. Time is defined by change, and as such, the passage of time will bring us across the twists, turns, choices, and paths within our destiny,” Mongooku explained. “With that in mind, it is time for you to conclude your journey as a Padawan, and become a true Jedi Knight.”

Arthur was speechless for a moment. Was this what he had been awaiting? Was he about to be knighted? “I am honored Master,” Arthur managed to say after a few seconds of being awestruck. “But what of the Jedi Trials?”

“You have already proven yourself to be worthy in so many ways Arthur!” Master Mongooku explained. “You passed a trial of the flesh when you lost your parents and left your old life behind for a new one. You passed a trial of insight when you chose your own lightsaber crystal among countless others. You passed a trial of courage when you leapt up into that storm after me to deflect lightning away from my body. And throughout all of your training and battlefield experience, you have passed a trial of skill, with the eyes of the Grand Master upon you, observing one of the most talented Jedi Padawans in the history of the order. You already proven yourself a dozen times over for many of the qualities needed in a Jedi Knight.”

“So I am to be knighted?” Arthur asked, letting the full weight of what he thought was about to happen sink in. It was because of this that the Grand Master’s next word surprised him.

“No,” the Grand Master said. “Not yet. You have one last trial to face my Padawan.” With that statement, the Grand Master entered the dark room, and Arthur followed behind him through the archway.

The room was dark, save for a single glow in one of the room’s corners. It was an enigmatic, soft white glow. In the dim light of the glow, Arthur could make out the shape of the Grand Master extending his right arm, and the glow began to float towards the center of the room, increasing in intensity as it neared closer. Soon, the source of the glow was so close and illuminated that Arthur could make out what it was, and what it was surprised him. Arthur recognized the dodecahedral shape as that of the Great Holocron, the greatest of all the Jedi artifacts. Arthur had never before seen the Great Holocron moved from its spot in the recesses of the Jedi archives, but here it was before him, suspended in the air a few feet away from his eyes.

“This is the Jedi Order’s most prized possession,” Mongooku explained, his mismatched blue eye and green eye glowing in the light of the holocron. It contains the complex intertwining of multiple levels, each capable of storing an infinite volume of information and knowledge. Even I cannot comprehend the full depth of the knowledge that lies within this singular object.”

Arthur had always been beyond fascinated with the device. As a Lightor, Arthur had been the witness to many technological wonders, but he had neither seen nor considered it possible to create something with an infinite storage capacity for information, much less multiple levels of infinity interlaced as naturally as the roots of a tree in dirt. Arthur had asked his master about the device before, and had learned that both he and Mongooku shared a very interesting theory about the device. They had both reasoned that whatever mind fashioned the Great Holocron was not bound by the parameters and restrictions of mortality.

“Through this holocron, you can see the edges of the Galaxy,” Master Mongooku continued. “You can travel through time and space itself to view this history of our order. You can expand your mind outward, wrapping it around more knowledge that would’ve otherwise been further away from you. But the Great Holocron doesn’t only allow us to perceive the outside world. The Great Holocron can also allow us to view that which cannot be viewed by looking outward. It can also help you to see who you truly are.”

The Great Holocron floated up through the air in the center of the room until a stone claw protruded from the ceiling to hold it. The room began to brighten as sections of the ceiling were lit up, by light surging forth from the Great Holocron. The light then began to crawl down each of the walls, still following patterned lines. When sections of the ground started to illuminate, the paths of light began to trail closer and closer together until they converged upon the center of the room, completely illuminating a hexagon on the ground. Mongooku motioned for Arthur to step forward, and Arthur responded by entering the hexagon. “Welcome to your Trial of the Spirit Arthur,” Mongooku announced.

“This holocron is going to tell me who I am?” Arthur asked in disbelief.

“The Great Holocron can only show you what lies within your soul,” Mongooku replied. “What you choose to do or believe about what it shows you is your own choice and responsibility.”

“It is time for you to face the mirror Arthur,” Mongooku announced just as half a dozen mirrors began to protrude from the ground, each tracing the length of one edge of the hexagon Arthur was standing upon. The mirrors slowly began to rise, sliding upwards from the ground to Arthur’s ankles, to his waist height, and further still.

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,” the Grand Master recited from the Jedi Code.

Arthur let a sense of calm and tranquility flow over him as he mentally prepared himself for the task ahead. “What am I supposed to know master?” Arthur asked.

The Grand Master had the time to speak two words before the mirrors rose to block Arthur’s view of him. “Know yourself.” And with that, the mirrors continued to rise and rise until the edges reached the very ceiling of the room, cutting Arthur off from his master. In the small area in which Arthur was now enclosed, there was himself, six mirrors for walls, and the Great Holocron overhead. Just as Arthur was wondering when something was going to happen, a blinding beam of light jutted out from the bottom of the Great Holocron and enveloped him. For a moment, Arthur felt his physical body go unconscious, but his mind, his spirit remained perfectly active and aware. In Arthur’s mind, he perceived himself in that very same enclosed space beneath the Great Holocron, surrounded by six mirrors. Were it not for the feeling of his physical self losing consciousness, Arthur wouldn’t be aware he was in a vision, a trance, a dream.

Arthur glanced into the first mirror. Hope a powerful feminine voice spoke in his mind as the simple reflection of himself in that first mirror began to change. Instead of his fifteen year old self, Arthur instead saw himself as a man in white robes under heroic plates of golden armor. He saw himself as a hero, a leader, a true champion of the light. Arthur felt his mind drift from whatever mental projection of his body his conscious mind inhabited in this vision and into the mirror as the reflection began to change.

Arthur realized he was now in the body of his ideal self, leading the charge of hundreds of Jedi, wielding a blade of pure light. He felt stronger and more important than he had ever felt in his entire life. He felt the weight and power of the entire Jedi order behind him. He felt the light side of the Force pouring from the center of his being back through the ranks of hundreds of Jedi before an equally powerful surge raced from the Jedi behind him back into himself. He felt power, meaning, destiny, fate, and purpose, and found himself greatly enjoying what he saw and felt. This is how I am meant to be, Arthur thought to himself, strangely calm and content in this visionary experience. If this was Arthur’s introspective journey, then it was far less trying than he was expecting it to be.

Suddenly, Arthur felt his mind suddenly drift back into the body form between the six mirrors, the mental projection of Arthur’s physical self in this dream world. He then felt his body turn slowly to face the next of the mirrors. Love the powerful female voice resonated within his mind again. This time, Arthur saw only his reflection as it was; a fifteen year old boy in Jedi robes with the hilt of a lightsaber at his waist. Again however, the image changed to Arthur leading a charge, but this time there were far less Jedi behind him, and it was him as he was. A teenage Jedi in the typical robes of the Jedi, charging forth with an emerald blade held in front of him.

Arthur again felt his mind drift into his visage in the mirror. He felt the sensations of battle and leadership take hold in him as he charged the front lines of the Sith ranks. With his blade, he personally hewed down several Sith soldiers and Acolytes. As he continued to lead the charge through the Sith ranks, he felt a sense of accomplishment and purpose as the other Jedi followed him. The vision in this mirror wasn’t as grand as the vision in the first mirror, but as Arthur felt himself travel through it, it felt as if the vision in the first mirror was growing closer and closer, that his idealized self was becoming more and more of a reality.

Suddenly, there was a brief break in the conflict as the line of Sith and line of Jedi halted several meters away from each other. Between the two groups stood one lone figure. Her eyes glowed a deep radiant blue, and her brown hair seemed to sparkle in the light of the sun. The small patch of luscious vibrant grass Jaira was standing upon was the only beautiful patch in an otherwise devastated and scorched battlefield. Just the sight of Jaira immediately captivated Arthur’s attention. With the rest of the battlefield frozen, Arthur began to approach Jaira. As he drew nearer and nearer to her, she began to look more beautiful, and the patch of vibrant grass she was on expanded further and further, creating a paradise for Arthur to step onto.

By this point, the conflict around them had resumed, and Jedi and Sith continued to spill each other’s blood upon the ground. But none dared cross onto the paradise upon which Arthur now stood. Already as beautiful as he could imagine, his view of Jaira changed in a different way as he continued to draw closer to her. Her clothing shifted. With each step Arthur took towards her, her clothing became more revealing, leaving less to the imagination. The paradise continued to expand, pushing the battle further and further away from them.

The sounds and feel of battle grew further and further away as Arthur continued his approach, but he did not care. He could feel his vision of his ideal self, his desired destiny, slipping further and further away, but still he did not care. All that mattered to him at this point was the feeling. Finally, with nothing on his mind but amorous intent and sexual fantasy, Arthur extended his hand forward to touch Jaira’s naked but inviting body. As soon as his hand touched her flesh however, Arthur felt his consciousness drift back into his projected self between the mirrors as his mind returned to its natural equilibrium.

Once again, Arthur’s body turned to face a third mirror. Ability the female voice spoke to him. Again he saw himself and felt his mind drift into the vision as he sat within his workshop back on Innamorta. His various tools and materials swirled above head as if dancing to his will before assembling in whatever ways he willed. Eventually, the environment changed, revealing him to be studying in the Jedi Archives. Datapads and manuscripts swirled overhead, a constant stream of knowledge enveloping him. For a third time, the vision shifted to the familiar environment of him lead a charge in battle against the Sith ranks. This time he was neither an idealized version of himself, nor was Jaira on the battlefield.

This time the focus was entirely on him as he was now, hewing through Sith after Sith with his blade, scattering groups of soldiers with blasts of telekinetic power, breaking cartilage and bone beneath his fists. As the battle progressed, the focus of Arthur’s vision centered more and more upon those he was killing. Arthur watched as his green blade bit into the neck of a Sith before skewering a nearby soldier. He felt a man’s skull crack beneath his fist and a ribcage crack beneath his boot. He saw a soldier’s body twist at unnatural angles from the telekinetic power unleashed upon him. Soon the vision devolved into one brutal or casual death followed by another in an endless montage. At the beginning of the vision, Arthur was feeling pride in his abilities, but now he was revulsed by the sight of man after man dying before him. It was then that he felt his mind drift back to his form between the mirrors and rotate towards the fourth mirror.

Hate the female voice echoed through Arthur’s mind. In this mirror, Arthur again saw his own reflection, but something was off. The face of his reflection slowly twisted into a hateful glare, his green eyes almost glowing with an inner furious fire. As the reflection of Arthur’s face grew larger and larger in the mirror, Arthur started to notice the reflections in his reflection’s eyeballs. These reflections soon grew to encompass the whole mirror, clarifying and focusing until you could no longer see the eyeballs. What stood before Arthur now in the mirror were crowds of Sith, clad in dark robes brandishing crimson bladed lightsabers. Among them were an equal number of groups of Shadikill soldiers, each clad in armor with a long range and close range weapon on hand. The Shadikill and the Sith; these were the beings who represented everything Arthur stood against, and just seeing them made Arthur feel anger, disgust, and hatred. This time, Arthur’s mind did not enter the mirror. Instead, he just watched as those he hated sneered and laughed at him. None, however, had a particularly defined or prominent appearance about them however.

To Arthur, the Shadikill and the Sith were groups, not individuals. He hated everyone a part of those groups no matter who they were. None of this hatred was personal, or so he thought. It was then that Arthur’s gaze fell upon a single figure, distinguished from the rest by stature. It was a boy whose feature’s were obscured by a black cloak he wore around his body, the hood of the cloak enveloping his head in shadow. Suddenly, the boy threw his hood back and revealed his face. A new intensity of anger and hatred swelled within Arthur’s being as he recognized the boy’s face. It was Dylan, prince of the Shadikill, whom Arthur had killed two years ago. As Arthur glared into the thirteen year old’s eyes, the Shadikill prince glared back through the mirror with just as much hatred. You killed my family the boy’s glare seemed to say. And you killed mine Arthur’s own glare said right back.

Once more, Arthur’s mind was pulled away from the mirror as he began to rotate towards the fifth mirror. Guilt the voice spoke within his mind. The reflection on the fifth mirror was almost the same as the reflection on the fourth, but instead, there were no other Shadikill or Sith. It was only Dylan, prince of the Shadikill. As soon as Arthur’s gaze fell upon him in the mirror, he immediately threw up his hood, turned around, and started running. Filled with raw fury, Arthur charged straight into the fifth mirror, shattering it as he dashed into the visage before him, racing through a dreamscape to catch his hooded foe. Corpse after corpse lay strewn across the ground as Arthur began to catch up to his enemy. It was the trail of bodies used to find the murderer.

Finally, after minutes of sprinting, Arthur finally caught up to the hooded boy, now standing in a large room in a castle with dozens of bodies strewn about the ground around him. With one simple tug, Arthur pulled the cloak off of the boy with the Force to reveal… himself. Arthur saw his own twelve year old self beneath the cloak, and as he glanced around, he noticed that the bodies strewn about the ground were Shadikill. As the vision sequence progressed, Arthur found himself staring at his twelve year old self’s immediate reaction to stumbling upon the corpses of his father. Arthur watched as his past self screamed then turned his attention towards his father’s killer; Dylan. In a split second, Arthur’s mind drifted into the projection of his past self. Again, Arthur felt the release of raw power from his hands that obliterated the balcony and watched with satisfaction as Dylan fell towards the pit of lava, almost in slow motion.

As his body hit the top layer of magma and created a large splash however, everything around Arthur crumbled and dissolved. The entire dreamscape reshaped itself until it was split in two by a single massive mirror, though the reflections were so different both ways it was more like glass. Arthur stared at the other half of the dreamscape and saw Dylan, dressed in black clothing standing over the twisted and crushed corpses of both of Arthur’s parents. As Arthur scanned his side of the dreamscape, he saw corpses on the ground on this side of the mirror as well. Each corpse was a Shadikill. Many of them were members of the Shadikill royal family, and four of them were members of Dylan’s squad. Each and every corpse had been one of Dylan’s friends or part of his family.

What terrified Arthur was not the sight of his parents’ corpses, or the sight of so much blood and death. What truly terrified Arthur was the inescapable fact that there were far more corpses on his half of the dreamscape than there were on Dylan’s. Suddenly and without warning, the mirror separating the two halves of the dreamscape shattered, and Dylan charged towards Arthur with a black combat knife in hand.

Arthur could’ve moved, run from, or dodged what was coming next, but for some reason, he stood still. When the Shadikill reached him, he punched Arthur in the chest with a loud resounding boom. As soon as Dylan’s fist made contact with him, Arthur watched his Lightor armor explode into thousands of shards flying off in different directions, leaving him in a pair of red shorts and a green shirt. Unarmored, surrounded by bodies, and with a Shadikill prince standing before him with a knife, Arthur felt suddenly exposed.

Suddenly, the Shadikill’s arm flew towards Arthur in a black streak of motion, and an instant later, Arthur let out an outcry of pain as the black blade of the combat knife stabbed into his left side. “That was for my squad,” Dylan said, a flash of yellow in his eyes. Arthur watched as a black viscous fluid began to leak out from his wound, spreading across the surface of his body like a shadowy veil. It felt like his very body was burning and corroding beneath it. Again the knife blade pierced his flesh, this time upon his right shoulder. Again the shadowy substance oozed out from the wound and spread across his body. “That was for my family.” A second later, Arthur screamed as the blade pierced his heart. The shadowy substance leaked from this wound far faster, and sections of Arthur’s uncovered flesh began to bubble up as the substance broke the surface of his skin, surfacing from the very core of his being. “That was for my parents.”

By this point, Arthur’s mind and body were filled with sheer agony. The pain of every strike Arthur had levied in cold blood against Dylan’s loved ones poured through him. Though the sheer agony he felt was almost overwhelming, there was also another feeling that was even more overpowering; guilt. “And this… this is for her.” His body almost completely enveloped in the shadowy goo, save for his eyes, Arthur watched as the knife flew towards his face in slow motion. Her. The Shadikill girl he had captured. The one Dylan had rescued from him. He had made the choice to capture and imprison her. The same choice that had resulted in the deaths of every dead body he saw strewn around him now. With that final thought, the knife drove through his skull, and the darkness swallowed him.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open. It took less than a second for Arthur to realize where he was. He was sprawled across the floor of the hexagonal chamber, with mirrors as walls and the Great Holocron looming overhead. Still staring at the ground, Arthur heard one last whisper in his mind. This one however was not the female voice. This one was male, creepy, and ominous, yet Arthur had heard it before. He had heard it back on Innamorta, and in this very vision in fact. “You can never escape me.” As Arthur looked up into the sixth and final mirror, he screamed in horror. Instead of his own reflection, he instead saw Dylan, his eyes blazing yellow, smirking in triumph, his body position a perfect reflection of Arthur’s. “I’ll always be a part of you.”

In his terror, Arthur acted on instinct, lashing out at all six of the mirrors with the Force. They all shattered into a shower of shards, falling away from Arthur onto the ground. Breathing heavily, Arthur saw the Grand Master standing a few feet away, observing him with interest.

“I’m sorry Master,” Arthur apologized. “I didn-”

“It’s perfectly fine Arthur,” Mongooku said as he dismissively shook his head. Arthur watched in amazement as the mirror shards spontaneously melted into a silver fluid and poured into the slots in the floor from which they had emerged. “This happens more than you’d expect. Whenever somebody looks within themselves, they are bound to find something they don’t like.”

“Did I fail?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Mongooku said after a brief pause. “You faced yourself and looked into who you were as a person. Because of this, you have passed your Trial of the Spirit. How you choose to cope with what you found is a choice you have to make and a path you must walk. I cannot do it for you.”

After a brief silence, Arthur asked the question that lingered on his mind. Hope, Love, Talent, Hate, Guilt… “What is the sixth mirror Master?”

“Fear.”

Fear, Arthur thought to himself. That was what had shaken him. But what was it about Dylan that frightened him so much?

“Now come Arthur,” Master Mongooku said as he turned to exit the room. “It is time for you to become a Jedi Knight.”

Arthur followed his master out of the room, and through the passages of the Tranquility Spire. For a few minutes they walked slowly, the apprentice led by the master, until they reached another dark room and entered. Arthur could barely see his master in the darkness of the room as he stepped into its center.

Suddenly, the dark room was illuminated by a dozen different lightsaber blades. Arthur recognized the various Jedi Masters on the High Jedi Council standing around him in a circle their lightsabers pointed upward. Most of the twelve Master’s held either a blue or a green blade. Arthur did recognize Amoye Ilu and Nalaniel among the dozen masters. Master Ilu was holding his all two familiar amethyst blade, and Nalaniel was holding a pink bladed lightsaber, something Arthur had never even known she possessed. Then of course, standing directly in front of him was his own master, Mongooku, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, his sapphire blade instead pointed at the ground.

“Step forward, Padawan,” Mongooku said, his eyes gleaming with pride. As Arthur stepped forward and kneeled on the ground, Mongooku raised his blade while the other eleven Jedi lowered theirs in one synchronized motion.

“Arthur,” the venerable Grand Master said as he began to lower his blade above Arthur’s right shoulder. “By the right of the council.” The Grand Master raised his blade again and lowered it over Arthur’s other shoulder. “By the will of the Force, dub thee I do Jedi…” With that, Mongooku raised his blade back up as he stared down upon Arthur. “Knight of the Force.”

It was done, Arthur realized. He was now a Jedi Knight. Arthur felt elated, overjoyed. He realized that he had not been this proud or happy in a long long time. After two years of training, he had made his master and his order proud. But amidst that happiness, there was one thought he simply could not shake. He could not help but find his mind replaying the events of his Trial of the Spirit over and over again.

Fear, it was the emotion that had overwhelmed him at the end, the part of himself that truly unsettled him. Fear of Dylan. Fear of his past. It then dawned upon Arthur why he feared Dylan so much. Even back on Innamorta, his hope had been to be a hero, a leader. He had hoped to be the salvation of his people, to save the world he knew and make it a better place. Of course, before he was introduced to the rest of the Galaxy and the Jedi Order, Arthur had recognized Dylan as the greatest threat to that future he so desperately hoped for. There were those he loved, such as his parents, and Dylan had taken them away from him. Arthur was becoming a more talented warrior, and thus a more talented killer, and Dylan had certainly been both in his lifetime. Dylan had also been the one being Arthur truly hated on a personal level, despite all Jedi teachings of avoiding hatred. No matter what he did, he could not let go of that deep hatred he felt for him. And that anger, that hatred, had led to him killing those Dylan had cared about, something he could not help but feel guilt over.

Arthur feared Dylan so much because when he saw him, he saw everything wrong with himself. To Arthur, Dylan represented his hopes and dreams not coming to fruition. He represented the pain of loss resulting from the attachment of love. He represented a talented killer, something Arthur feared becoming, but was growing closer and closer to being every day. He represented the depth of Arthur’s capacity for hatred, and he represented the guilt Arthur had buried with vengeful justification. When Arthur saw Dylan staring back at him through the sixth mirror, he saw the darkest parts of his own soul. The mirror wasn’t truly the mirror after all, and Dylan was not the reflection. Dylan was the mirror, and what Arthur truly feared, was inside of himself. There was darkness and doubt in various crevices of Arthur’s soul, and Dylan had been the only person able to awaken and animate so many of them, to give them life and draw them out, to grant them power over him.

“I sense your mind is still troubled,” Master Mongooku said softly. Arthur glanced up and realized the other masters had already left the chamber. “Your thoughts dwell on whatever it was you saw in the mirrors.”

“I saw something from my past,” Arthur replied. “Something I thought I had left behind me.”

“The past cannot ever be erased Arthur,” Mongooku responded. “It is the path that has and will always lie behind us. But it is who we are, not who we were, that truly defines us. You would be wise to keep that in mind.”

“I will Master,” Arthur replied as he drew meaning from the venerable Grand Master’s words.

“Now go Arthur,” Mongooku continued. “Seek solitude and reflection, enlightenment in the archives, companionship with your friends, or even a day off if you so desire. You are a Jedi Knight now. You cannot alter the path that lies behind you, so you must walk the path that lies before you. Your apprenticeship has come to an end, and I believe you will one day be the greatest of all the Jedi.”

“Thank you Master,” Arthur said as he turned to exit the chamber.

“And Arthur!” Mongooku called out as he was leaving. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you Master,” Arthur responded as he left the room.

Mongooku was right. Arthur was a Jedi Knight now. He was a step closer to being the man he wanted to become. Now that he knew the very depths of who he was and what his flaws were, he was wiser and more wary. He would avoid letting his flaws get the better of him, and he would do his best to ensure he continued to become more and more like his ideal self. One day, Arthur swore internally, I will save the Galaxy.

And as for Dylan, Arthur realized the truth in Master Mongooku’s words. It was not his past self that was who he was now. Mongooku himself had killed his own brother in revenge, yet centuries later, he was perhaps the wisest most pure-hearted man in the Galaxy. Dylan was fuel for the darkest parts of Arthur’s soul, but he was dead now, and so Arthur decided it would be best not to dwell on him. Since Dylan was dead, Arthur decided to let much of the darkness associated with Dylan in his very soul die with him. He had always hated Dylan, and he had felt guilt for the actions he had taken against those he had loved, and he feared what Dylan had revealed about himself, but Dylan was dead now, and Arthur would not such emotion to seize him for that which no longer existed in the Galaxy. He would not carry his guilt or hatred with him onto the path in front of him, he would leave it behind with Dylan’s ashes.

Arthur did not know if taking Dylan’s life had been the right or wrong thing to do, but because of that choice, Dylan was dead, and so Arthur could choose to leave many of his greatest flaws behind with him, as Dylan, on account of being dead, was not a part of the path that lay in front of him. Arthur was uncertain of how or if he could handle his flaws if he had to confront Dylan, but due to his choice, however uncertain he was about the morality behind it, Arthur was grateful he would never have to face him again…