The oracle's visions brought them to strange places.

A lone grave on a dried plain, the only light the dim cloud-masked stars and the soft violet glow of Tiresias' magic. It was a remarkably open space, and it had Charon on edge. Why they'd been drawn here, he had no idea. He couldn't claim to understand how the prophet's mind worked.

He supposed it wasn't his job to puzzle it out. He was just a sword.

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i'm never sure how i feel about crunchy lines. hm. also why did you make me make charon so big, it feels like he's the focus now GHJKDL