I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Chapter 59: Past, present, future and what’s not?

Zafron's eyes narrowed, his jaw set with determination. "We will both pass through. Whatever the cost. I'm not leaving her behind," he declared to the guardian, "I'll face it,"

The guardian nodded, its goat-like features impassive. "Very well then, your final trial shall soon commence. Know this however, only one shall cross the gate unless you defeat your fear,". In a blink, the towering figure vanished, leaving Zafron and Thera alone in the vast whiteness of the plane. For a moment, all was still.

'Only one can cross over, meaning that if we don't beat whatever we are about to face, then there was still the chance that one of us could cross over,' Zafron felt hope from this statement but then it suddenly came to him.

'No! Whatever it is, we will beat it and we will make it to the other side!' he resolved.

Then, in the distance, a shimmering gate materialized. Its ornate arch seemed to beckon them, promising an end to their arduous journey. Zafron's heart leaped at the sight, but as he took a step forward, the air before him began to ripple and distort.

A figure emerged from the distortion, and Zafron's blood ran cold. Standing between them and the gate was a man he'd hoped never to see again: Gustavo.

But this wasn't the Gustavo of his memories. This version was draped in gold, exuding an aura of immense wealth and power. Yet, the scar on his face, the hulking build, and the all-too-familiar dagger at his belt were unmistakable.

"No," Zafron whispered, his voice a mixture of shock and rage. "It can't be."

Thera gripped his arm. "My lord, who is that man?"

Zafron's fists clenched at his sides. "Gustavo," he spat the name like a curse. "The man who killed me, who stole my dreams of becoming more than a slave boy."

The Gustavo before them smiled, a cruel twist of his lips. "Hello, boy," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Still chasing impossible dreams, I see."

Zafron's mind reeled. He knew this couldn't be the real Gustavo, but a manifestation of his fears. Yet the sight of him, resplendent in wealth that should have been Zafron's, ignited a fury he couldn't contain.

With a roar, Zafron charged forward. Gustavo laughed, drawing his dagger with practiced ease. The two collided in a flurry of movement.

Zafron's fist connected with Gustavo's jaw, the impact reverberating through his arm. He felt a flash of satisfaction, quickly replaced by pain as Gustavo's knee drove into his stomach. They couldn't bleed in this realm, but the pain was all too real.

They grappled, each seeking an advantage. Zafron ducked under a wild swing, countering with an uppercut that snapped Gustavo's head back. But his opponent was as strong as he remembered, shaking off the blow and retaliating with a vicious elbow strike that left Zafron seeing stars.

The dagger flashed in Gustavo's hand, a wicked gleam in the White Plane's ethereal light. Zafron barely managed to dodge the first thrust, feeling the blade whisper past his cheek. He grabbed Gustavo's wrist, struggling to keep the deadly weapon at bay.

As they fought, the White Plane began to tremble. Cracks appeared in the featureless expanse, spreading like a spider's web. The void was collapsing around them, adding a desperate urgency to the battle.

Gustavo laughed, seeming to grow stronger as Zafron's fear mounted. "You'll always be nothing, boy," he taunted, pressing the advantage. "A slave, a corpse, a forgotten spirit. That's all you'll ever be!"

The words stung, striking at Zafron's deepest insecurities. For a moment, his resolve wavered, and Gustavo seized the opportunity. The dagger plunged forward, aimed at Zafron - it had the same shiny chilling aura like on that fateful day in the bush.

But this time, Zafron was ready. At the last instant, he twisted, the blade grazing his side instead of finding its mark. Using Gustavo's momentum against him, Zafron pivoted, throwing his opponent off balance.

They crashed to the ground, rolling across the cracking surface of the White Plane. Zafron ended up on top, pinning Gustavo beneath him. His hands found his enemy's throat, squeezing with all his might.

"I am not nothing," Zafron growled, his voice raw with emotion. "I am not a slave. I am not forgotten. I am Zafron, and I choose my own fate!"

Gustavo's eyes bulged, his face turning purple as he struggled for air. The dagger fell from his grasp, clattering on the fractured ground. For a moment, victory seemed within Zafron's grasp.

But then the hulking form of this Gustavo suddenly pushed up, tossing Zafron over and quickly mounting him.

Gustavo's laugh echoed through the crumbling White Plane as he pinned Zafron to the ground, one massive hand wrapped around his throat, the other holding the dagger perilously close to Zafron's eye.

"Still weak, still nothing," Gustavo sneered, his face inches from Zafron's. "You'll never escape your fate, boy."

Zafron struggled with all his might, but Gustavo's weight was immovable. He clawed at the arm choking him, kicked out desperately, but to no avail. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision as he gasped for air.

"My lord! The gate!"

Thera's panicked cry cut through the chaos. With monumental effort, Zafron turned his head just enough to see the shimmering gate starting to fade, its edges crumbling into nothingness. Thera stood before it, her hand outstretched towards him, terror etched across her face.

The White Plane shuddered violently, great chunks of nothingness falling away into an unfathomable abyss. Their chance of escape was disappearing by the second.

In that moment of desperation, clarity struck Zafron like lightning. He couldn't break free. He couldn't defeat Gustavo, not in time. The guardian's words echoed in his mind - only one could pass through the gate unless he overcame his fear. And right now, that seemed impossible.

'There's no point in being selfish,' Zafron thought, a strange calm settling over him despite the dire situation. 'Perhaps on the other side of the gate, Thera will find her purpose. Maybe this was always meant to be her journey, not mine.'

With that realization, Zafron made his choice. Summoning the last of his strength, he shouted, "Thera! Go! Through the gate, now!"

Confusion and anguish flashed across her face. "But my lord-"

"There's no time!" Zafron interrupted, still struggling against Gustavo's grip. "I can't break free. Only one can pass. It has to be you. Go, live the life you were meant to have!"

Tears streamed down Thera's cheeks as she hesitated, clearly torn. But as another violent tremor shook the White Plane, she nodded once, resolve settling over her features.

"Thank you, my lord," she called out, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll never forget you."

With one last, lingering look, Thera turned and stepped through the gate. The moment she passed the threshold, the archway flared with blinding light. When it faded, both Thera and the gate were gone.

Zafron sagged with relief, even as despair clawed at his heart. He had saved her, but at what cost? As the White Plane continued to disintegrate around him, he realized he was now truly alone with his fears, embodied in the form of Gustavo ontop of him.

The man who had once ended his life sneered up at him. "Was it worth it, boy? Sacrificing your chance at life for a girl you barely knew?"

Zafron's grip tightened on Gustavo's throat. "Yes," he growled. "Now just shut up and die already!" Zafron said with a mighty burst of strength, flipping Gustavo over and now on top, he began to rain down punches on him.

As the last remnants of the White Plane crumbled away, leaving them suspended in an incomprehensible void, Zafron felt a strange sense of peace settle over him even as he continued to pummel Gustavo.

He might be doomed to wander as a spirit, like those he'd seen in the fields of Limbo. But he would do so knowing he had faced his greatest fear and made a choice born of compassion, not cowardice.

In that final moment, as reality itself seemed to unravel around them, Zafron looked into the eyes of his fear and whispered, "I am free."

The void claimed them, and everything faded to white.