The creature stood before them, breathing heavily in the dark, moonless night. Its eyes, red and glowing, scanned the room until they landed on Eamon. It stared. Unmoving. Unblinking.
Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then another. Silence.
And then—
tears.
Thick, glistening tears rolled from the creature's monstrous eyes. It took a step forward and spoke with a broken, trembling voice, a voice that somehow still carried the warmth Eamon knew so well.
"What did you do, my child?" the creature whispered. "What blasphemy have you befallen upon yourself?"
Eamon felt his heart sink. He stepped forward.
"Why couldn't you just let me go?" it asked, now weeping. "Why did you pull me back into this world... like this?"
Eamon's throat tightened. He wanted to cry, to scream, to run into his grandfather's arms, even if they were now monstrous. But as he stepped forward, the creature held up a shaking clawed hand.
"No, my child. Please. Don't come any closer," it warned, its voice filled with agony. "I... I can't control the bloodlust in this state. I might... I might kill you."
Eamon froze, eyes brimming with tears.
"I don't have much time," the creature said. "There's something important I must tell you."
"What, Grandpa?" Eamon cried. "Please... tell me."
The creature, Aegon, groaned and sank to one knee. His body twitched and pulsed, fighting the transformation he had never asked for.
"Listen closely, my boy," he began. "You've unknowingly committed a grave mistake. The magic you used to bring me back... it is no ordinary spell. It is a forbidden rite. A dark art lost to time, known only to demons and and even among them, only to a few."
Eamon's lips parted, but he said nothing.
"Among their kind," Aegon continued, "this magic flows like water. But in human hands, it becomes poison. It does not obey. It corrupts. And it always comes with a cost."
He coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth.
"The spell you used was not just any dark magic, Eamon. It is called 'Revenant's Embrace.' In the demon world, it is reserved for only the most powerful of rituals. Even they fear its cost. For mortals, it is a death sentence. Worse, it is a curse."
Eamon's legs buckled beneath him. "But Grandpa, I only wanted to bring you back. I couldn't... I couldn't live without you. You were all I had."
Aegon's eyes softened, if only for a moment. "And I understand that, my beloved child. But you must understand me now: I cannot exist like this. As a twisted mockery of who I once was. If the royal army sees me, they'll call me an abomination. They'll strike me down without hesitation."
Eamon looked at him helplessly. "But Grandpa... I can hide you. I can protect you."
"No, Eamon," Aegon said firmly. "You must let me go."
The wind outside howled, as though the world itself mourned with them.
"I don't have long," Aegon whispered. "But before I go, I have one request."
Eamon looked up, eyes swollen with grief.
"All your life," Aegon said, "you lived for me. You never made friends. You never played in the fields or learned in the town school. Every day, all you wanted was to be near me, learning magic, keeping me company."
Eamon nodded. "You were my world."
"And that breaks my heart," Aegon replied. "Because I fear... the world I leave you in will not be kind."
He struggled to rise, one knee planted, his body failing him.
"This curse, Eamon. It is cruel. It is deadly. It will haunt you until it is broken. The entire realm might become your enemy."
"What? But why?" Eamon asked, voice shaking.
Aegon's voice dropped to a whisper.
"On every night of the new moon... when the sky is darkest... entities from the Dark Realm will cross over. They will seek you out. They will chase you. They will want to end you. And they won't stop until you're dead."
Eamon staggered back, horrified.
"But not just you," Aegon said. "Anyone close to you. Anyone who dares to love you. Friends. Family. All of them will be in danger. The curse thrives on closeness. On bonds. On Love. It makes the cursed one live a life of despair."
Eamon clutched his head, overwhelmed. "Then how do I stop it?"
Aegon coughed violently. "There should have been a letter with the scripts you used. That letter... it holds the answer. Take it to Arvin. He will understand what's written on it. He will guide you."
Tears streamed down Eamon's cheeks. "Please... don't leave me, Grandpa."
"I wish I didn't have to my child," Aegon whispered. "But I can't live in this form. I'm losing my sanity with every breath. Soon, there will be nothing left of me. Just hunger. Rage. Blood."
He reached out, trembling. "But promise me this, Eamon. Live. Truly live. Make friends. Love. Laugh. Break this curse, and live the life I couldn't. Live freely my child. Live happily"
Eamon sobbed. "I will. I promise."
Aegon smiled through the pain. "Thank you... my beautiful boy. You were the best gift of my life. More than magic. More than glory. You were my peace."
His claws gripped over chest.
"Forgive me my child. I love you so much. You are my world. And I will always be watching over you."
And with a final breath, Aegon drove his claws into his chest, ripping out the dark heart that pulsed with corrupted life. He crushed it in his fist and died instantly. Before he touched the ground, the tears falling from him eyes hit first.
Eamon screamed and collapsed, crying like a child. His tears wouldn't stop.
Even Derek was crying to see the pain of the grandfather and the grandson.
He held Eamon, wrapped his arms around him and consoled him.
And they wept together in the silence that followed.