Morgan called out to Xol from behind, urgency bordering on panic in his voice.
"Wait, wait!"
But Xol kept walking, calm and composed, with that particular kind of tranquility that sometimes felt more like a statement than mere indifference. Morgan quickened his pace. Xol did too, just slightly, enough to keep the distance without making it obvious... although it was. Completely.
Xol was smiling without even looking back.
Several minutes passed before Morgan finally caught up to him, falling into step beside him with a heaving chest and ragged breaths. Xol glanced sideways, took note of the state he was in, and let out a short laugh.
"Is that really all you've got, kid?"
"Wh... why did you do that?"
(Morgan said between breaths.)
"Hahaha, how pathetic. Getting tired from walking a few meters is pretty lamentab—"
Xol cut himself off.
Something stopped him. It wasn't Morgan. It wasn't a sound. It was a thought that appeared out of nowhere and lodged itself there, silent and uncomfortable.
He got tired from just that?... But a few days ago he ran several kilometers without stopping to reach the gates of this place. And now... a little walking leaves him like this? Something isn't right.
(Xol thought silently, without stopping.)
Before he could dwell on it any further, Morgan was already speaking again.
"Hey, hey, is what you told me really possible? Can something bad actually become something good?"
(Morgan asked, his eyes wide.)
"Is it really possible?"
Xol frowned. The question wasn't the problem. The problem was that it kept him from thinking about the other thing, what he had just noticed and still didn't understand.
"Damn it, what do you want? Let me think!"
Morgan stopped for a moment. Xol almost never answered like that. With sarcasm? Sure. With distance? Always. But with that rough, genuine irritation, as though something inside him was being squeezed too tightly... that was different.
"Is something wrong?"
(Morgan asked, more quietly this time.)
"Nothing's wrong. I just can't stand being questioned nonstop."
(Xol said without looking at him.)
But Morgan knew him well enough to tell the difference between an answer and a door locked shut.
"No, no, no. Now you're the one hiding something. Tell me what's going on."
(Morgan said, this time without hesitation.)
Xol exhaled. He turned his head slightly, as though weighing how much to say and how much to keep to himself. Then he puffed out his chest with that usual confidence of his—part exaggerated, part genuine.
"Damn it... fine. I told you it's nothing. But since you insist so much, be happy, kid, because I'm going to answer your question. Yes. It is possible to turn something negative into something positive. And I'm going to prove it to you with a story."
"A... a story?"
(Morgan asked, his exhaustion suddenly replaced by curiosity.)
"Yes, kid. A story about two brothers. The story of two gods. The virtuous god... and the envious god."
---
Morgan was even more impressed when he heard that Xol was going to tell him about two gods. Not heroes. Not monsters.
Gods.
"Brothers? Gods?"
(Morgan asked, and there was something in his voice that even he didn't fully recognize—a curiosity that felt older than himself.)
"Tell me. Please, tell me."
Xol laughed. Not mockingly, but with the calm amusement of someone who knew he had already won, that the hook had been set and the fish had bitten on its own. Morgan noticed and didn't care in the slightest. There was something about the weight of that promise—two gods—that made everything else seem less urgent for a moment.
"Then listen carefully, bastard. Because this isn't a story about battles or greatness. It's a story about envy and resentment. About what happens to something immense when it learns how to feel small. And about everything it becomes, everything it transforms into, when it can no longer look upward without feeling pain."
(He paused briefly.)
"And you're going to understand every part of it."
End of Chapter.
Next Chapter: The Serpent and the Jaguar.