Kharam remembered how being young felt. He remembered the strength of his limbs and the prowess of his mind. Yet now all was lost, and when death finally came, it was a relief.
"Ready to talk now?" Lith said out loud, snapping Kharam out of the illusion.
His smug expression crumbled, his confidence fled his chest, and his breath became fast and shallow as reality reasserted itself.
"I’m alive." He said. "I’m young again!"
For the rest of the bandits, the merchants, and the soldiers, he just sounded insane. Less than a second had passed, yet Kharam’s attitude had flipped, and he spouted nonsense while crying with joy.
’I’ll take that as a no.’ Lith dragged his prey back into the Mindscape and traced the First Chaos rune, Ekrasu.
The pristine white of the Mindscape disappeared, replaced by an absolute blackness. Kharam was the only thing left, but not for long. He could feel himself die, and his skin fell off in dry flakes, leaving the muscles underneath exposed.
His body fell apart layer by layer, and unlike Vikara, Ekrasu made it clear that Kharam didn’t have the luxury of time either. He had seconds at best, and then his life would be over.
Everything he did or thought would mean nothing. Protecting Mak from the mysterious man would become meaningless since Kharam wouldn’t be there to rejoice. His life would end, and nothing and no one was waiting for him on the other side.
’Please, no! I’ll talk!’ But Kharam’s time had already run out.
His muscles stopped moving, and suddenly he was nothing. In his final instants, he could see life on Mogar go on. Kharam had died as he had lived, for nothing. No one remembered him. No one called his name.
He had left nothing behind, and now it was as if he had never been born. His existence had been as relevant as a rabid dog. Something dangerous, but that could easily be put down and whose death would only make the world a better place.
After that, even his mind faded, and what remained of Kharam’s consciousness was trapped in an eternal, silent darkness. Unthinking, unfeeling, and unblinking, his soul was forced to relive every moment in his life when he could have made a difference.
The moments when he could have amounted to something, yet his actions brought him one step closer to oblivion. Kharam couldn’t sleep, dream, or act. He had no imagination, only memory of what he had done and lost.
There was no changing the past, and every time the same events played out the same way in an endless loop. Kharam could only face the failure that his existence was and how he had chosen every day of his life to be a man no better than a flea.
"Okay, then. Let’s talk." Lith said as Kharam bawled his eyes out.
"I don’t know who the informant is. Mak is afraid one of his lieutenants might replace him if they know enough to conduct business without him." The bandit cried with joy, feeling the sun on his skin and knowing that he might still live.
He might still change his life and mean something to someone. Be remembered even if just for a silly thing. Be more than human garbage quickly tossed away and forgotten.
"What I know is that we were just a bunch of nobodies until Mak got a new friend. Suddenly he acted all smart and had brilliant plans and thoughts that were not like him at all.
"He always knew when and where the caravans would be, and even the contents of their cargo. Yet if you questioned his source, he would remain silent. A few lieutenants tried to discover his secrets, and Mak cleaved them with his axes."
"I’m not a biographer. Just tell me where to find him." Lith said.
"Do you have a map of the county?" The bandit asked, and Lith took one out of his pocket dimension.

’Or rather, Solus will. She has an eidetic memory. I barely remember Gelm’s face.’ He actually thought.

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