Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Aftermath ❯ Chapter Seven ( Chapter 7 )

a/n: Chapter seven, ahoy!

 

A note of caution to readers. This copy of the story is actually the rough draft, and it's self-edited. There's another edit in the works that fleshes out the fic by a good few more chapters and explains a lot more things in depth. So comments on stuff that seems lacking or a bit out of nowhere would be really helpful as I plow through the really detailed editing. After all, this story was written in fifteen days thanks to NaNoWriMo so it's definitely going to need some polishing.

Thanks for taking the time to read!

 

Aftermath

Chapter Seven: Culpability

 

The tray rattles as Rai tries to hold it in one hand, turn the knob with his elbow, and push the door open with his hip. It is a careful balancing act and one cup nearly topples over before he is successful, and he dashes cautiously into the room before the door automatically closes on him. Muffled laughter emerges from the bed, echoing Maro's amusement.

 

“That door is a hazard to my health,” Rai grumbles, regaining his equilibrium and stepping further into the lavish room. The tray rales minimally, but no longer seems in danger of tipping anything from the silver platter.

 

“I think Rynneth put it there specifically to thwart you,” Maro responds drolly, in slightly better spirits than she had been previously. Her color has improved - at least as much as it can for a bonelord - and the bruises on her face are already fading.

 

Shaking his head, Rai threads his way through the obstacles scattered about the room and finds his way to Maro's bed. He sets the tray on the nightstand, and she immediately reaches for the tea, the herbal scent spreading strongly through the room. Rai invites himself to visit, pulling up a chair and plopping down into it.

 

Maro lifts one brow as she blows on the tea to cool it before sipping carefully. “You and Haiden aren't together? Strange things do happen it seems.”

 

He shoves back in his chair, shifting around to get comfortable. “Regardless of what you think, I don't need Haiden to survive.” Rai props one elbow on the arm, balancing his chin on his knuckles. “He's with Rynneth, somewhere I'd rather not be.”

 

“Really?” She sips on the tea and then sets it back on the saucer in the lap, her long, white fingers rubbing along the fine porcelain. “I was under the impression that the engagement had been ended.”

 

“It has.” He shrugs. “But I didn't ask. Their business, not mine.”

 

She inclines her head distractedly. “I see.”

 

Rai watches her for another moment longer, before the curiosity tries to bubble out of him. He's kept his questions to himself for the past several days out of concern for her health. But now that she is recovering, he feels he deserves some answers, and shifts in his seat.

 

“Maro,” he begins, gathering her attention first. “Why did you come back to Umbra? I thought you never wanted to return here.”

 

Her eyes widen slightly and she lifts the cup to her lips, as if trying to hide behind the porcelain. He can see the debate in her gaze, whether to tell him or not. Before she sighs, and lowers her lashes. “How much do you know of the bonelords, S'raiya?”

 

The fingers of his free hand tap against the arm of his chair. “Bits and pieces here and there. It's not like there's a lot of information available. Especially information that's not tainted by speculation and prejudice.”

 

“That is to be expected.” A flash of pain crosses her face, but it isn't physical, and she returns the cup to the saucer. No longer caring for a taste of it. “We do not like humans, that much is obvious. But it is so much deeper than that.”

 

“I think the feeling is probably mutual,” Rai returns dryly, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his belly. He has his suspicions now, and wonders if Maro's story will only confirm them.

 

She snorts, her expression growing more sorrowful by the moment. “I suppose, to keep this pathetic tale short, I will answer your question as simply as possible.” Her eyes drop to the elegant comforter. “I have been exiled for the extent of my lifetime.” She pauses, knuckles straining as she grips her cup a bit too hard. “And we bonelords live for a long time.”

 

Rai winces, his suspicions confirmed. “Why?” he demands, perhaps a bit more harshly than he intends thanks to a surge of anger that floods his veins. “What could you have done that was so terrible.”

 

Maro looks at him sidelong. “Isn't it obvious?” Stomach suddenly churning, she returns the tea to the tray. “I've been tainted by the humans. And worse, I took part in your war.” Her eyes turn hard, cold like black ice. “A war that you humans are now trying to blame on the bonelords.”

 

“The ignorant don't know the true story. The place the blame where they will,” Rai responds quietly, rubbing a hand down his face. “Why did you?”

 

“What? Help fight?” The hardness turned flat and her gaze shifts away from him, to the faraway window where it is surprisingly bright and cheerful outside. A complete contrast to the raging emotions within the room. “They took something from me. Something I can't get back.”

 

He could only gather that this something was a person, and an important individual by that. She has the eyes of someone who has lost a most precious person, very dear to her. Rai knows those eyes. He held them for several years after his mother's death. It is as much as Rai has always suspected, that the person she often spoke of no longer being present, is the very same special person.

 

Silence stretches between them, Rai himself knowing that no words are a comfort. At least for Maro there is a perpetrator that she could look to, someone to blame for her precious one's death. Rai hadn't had that consolation when he lost his mother.

 

“It was revenge,” he states quietly, more to fill the silence than to seek confirmation. And really, what better reason could there be. “Did it help?”

 

Her thin lips firmed, making the veins visible beneath her pale flesh that much more visible. “Not a whit. But at least she's stopped accusing me in my sleep.” Long fingers touch at her forehead, rubbing gently. “When I actually do sleep.”

 

He knows that feeling all too well. “That first attack,” he begins carefully, a thought occurring to him. “When we all met that first time. Was that when...?”

 

She nods, her other fingers curling against the comforter tightly as she lays her head back against the pillow, swallowing thickly. “I never should have convinced her to come to Umbra with me. If I had known about the ruhin...” she trails off, swallowing thickly and closing her eyes. “I thought I was strong enough to protect her.”

 

It is somewhat discomfiting to see Maro like this, when she is usually so strong and closed off. He supposes he understands however. She has lost everything in such a short time, and for her own mistakes. The bonelords rarely come to Umbra, but occasionally, the younger and more bold did slip over as a sort of daring escapade. Sometimes simply for sheer curiosity. And Rai suspects that Maro's reason was the latter. She is still young for her kind.

 

“S'raiya,” she begins after a moment, voice thick but still remaining in control of her emotions. Maro is far too prideful to cry in front of a human, even one she respects as much as Rai. “Your friendship with Haiden... treasure it.”

 

His eyes widen slightly at the request, because it is obviously one. Not a command or a suggestion. It is a petition borne from painful experience. He nods slowly and politely looks away, giving her a moment to regain control of herself. Maro hates to lose restraint and Rai will respect that.

 

Behind them, knocking echoes loudly on the door before it promptly swings open without so much of an invite. “Rai?” Haiden calls out, poking his head through the small opening. “You in here?”

 

Sighing to himself, he tosses a glance over his shoulder. “Can't you see that for yourself?” he says pointedly, gesturing vaguely with one hand.

 

The door creaks as Haiden fully enters, letting it shut behind him. “I thought I'd find you here. I can't believe Maro minds your company for this long.”

 

“He can be quiet,” the bonelord replies gruffly, surreptitiously swiping a hand down her face to regain her composure. “Which is more than I could have said for the rest of you noisy humans.”

 

“You say that like you hate us but I know that's not true.” Haiden grins, striding up to the bed and standing next to it, looking between Rai and Maro as if trying to find something to tease them about. One brow arches. “Did I interrupt something?”

 

Rai snorts and rises to his feet, stretching his arms with a crack of his back. “Hardly, but you did barge in. What did you want?”

 

Haiden holds up a handful of papers, looking to be letters judging by the envelopes and scribbling attached. “Ryn gave me these,” he explains. “Seems Mama and Pa are tired of waiting for me to come visit.” He scratches his chin with his free hand. “Which might have something to do with the fact that my trip to Alliele should've ended about six months ago.”

 

Rolling his eyes, he waves off the letters. “So go,” Rai replies, fighting back a yawn. “We can meet up somewhere else if you want.” Though why Haiden would ask him for permission to go to visit his own parents is beyond his understanding.

 

Haiden exhales loudly, shooting Rai an exasperated look and sharing one with Maro. “Rai,” he begins slowly, making sure he has his best friend's attention before continuing, “I told you because you're going with me, not because I just wanted you to know.”

 

Digging a finger in his ear, Rai turns away from the bed and Haiden, moving across the floor towards the door. He pretends that he hasn't heard Haiden's suggestion because honestly, he has no intentions of returning home. There was a reason he left more than five years ago and it wasn't just so he could satisfy his wanderlust.

 

“Have a safe trip,” Rai calls out over his shoulder.

 

Haiden twists his jaw in annoyance, but it isn't him who speaks and calls Rai back. It is Maro, her voice slithering across the room and dragging him back by the ear.

 

“I didn't realize you were such a coward,” she taunts, and when he turns to look at her, the grin on her face is smug. “Is home truly that terrifying?”

 

“Hardly.” He crosses his arms, suddenly looking stiff and wooden. As if he'd rather be anywhere else. “I simply have no desire to return there.”

 

Haiden snorts and tosses Maro a sidelong look. “Don't believe him, Maro. This guy ran away five years ago and hasn't stopped running.”

 

He feels his eyebrow twitch, developing a certain tic. Haiden is trying to goad him into going, by bringing his pride into play, and damn if it isn't working. Rai has never had any intentions of returning to Lathe, has never even considered it. And yet, one simple request and he finds himself hard-pressed to deny. Damn him.

 

“Lathe is a dying town. What purpose is there in returning?” Rai demands logically, trying to pin reason onto his own irrational grounds. He is not a coward; he just has many other things he would rather be doing.

 

Maro smirks, looking far too pleased with herself as she settles into the comfort of the bed. “Then there is nothing to be afraid of, is there?” she poses, hands folding into her lap.

 

He works his jaw for several long moments, fingers gripping the inside of his arm. And then Rai is whirling on one foot, stalking back towards the door. “We'll leave in the morning,” he mutters under his breath. “I can't stand being here anymore.”

 

He is gone before either of them can reply. Therefore he misses their exchanged, knowing glances and their equal grins of manipulative success.

 

The thought of returning to Lathe does not bring a single bubbly feeling into Rai's conscious. In fact, he dreads it with a ferocity that matches his nonexistent enthusiasm for the next ruhin attack. And a part of him wants to strangle Haiden by his not-so-scrawny neck for even mentioning it.

 

Damn him.

 

* * *

 

Lathe is as far north as north gets for Umbra, and Rai is reminded of this the further they trek. It gets colder, the nights chillier and wet. His one cloak is no longer sufficient against the chill and they have to stop in a passing town to acquire thicker clothing and coverings.

 

He looks ahead of them, and sees the white-capped blue mountains - the supposed home of He-That-Rules, or so his mother's fairy tales once told him. She used to whisper that to him before he went to sleep. That they lived in the shadow of the gods, and there was no safer place for them to be. He had believed her wholeheartedly and unlike his fellow friends, he never feared the dark or creatures beneath his bed.

 

Funny how fairy tales were just that, nothing but fantasies in the end.

 

A hand nudges his shoulder and Rai turns to see Haiden holding out a steaming cup of something. “Mulled, warm cider,” he informs Rai, pushing it towards him. “Takes you back, hmm?”

 

He accepts the drink, and the warmth it infuses into his cold hands. The aroma floats up to his nostrils, spices and apples. “Something like that,” Rai answers, and sips at the hot drink. “Where is this place anyways?”

 

Haiden shrugs, bringing his cup to his lips. “Some place called Archidona.” He turns and follows Rai's gaze, flickering his eyes over the mountains in the distance.

 

Frowning, Rai feels a stirring of recognition. “Why do I know that name?” he murmurs to himself, the flavorful cider splashing over his tongue. He endures the burn simply because the warmth it brings is what he wants most of all. “It sounds familiar.”

 

“You're right.” Haiden pauses to consider it, brow furrowed in concentration. He sips at his cider. “Was it... no, Loka said she was born in the south.”

 

Rai inclines his head. “Not Loka,” he agrees, his porous memory providing the answer for him.

 

“I'm sorry,” Suerte whispered, fingers grasping at the soil as he hung his head. “But my intentions were not ill, I assure you.”

 

Loka stormed forward, her green gaze hard and unforgiving. “Is there anything about you that isn't a lie?” she demanded, her voice sharp and biting.

 

Suerte flinched, hunching even further in his position on his knees in front of the lot of them. He looked to be close to bowing his head to the ground to seek their forgiveness. “I lost track of the... misdirections.”

 

“Lies, you fool,” Maro replied with a snort, disgust wrinkling her nose. “Those were not misdirections, but lies.” She brushed fingers over her shoulder, as though wiping away a fleck of dirt or an annoying insect. “Pathetic.”

 

“Enough,” Haiden hurriedly inserted, stepping between the kneeling boy and the others before they became even more vicious. His sharp gaze flickered over the six of them. “I'm sure we all have our own secrets. Who can blame the boy for hiding his shame? Let him speak.”

 

Silence greeted his declaration and Haiden seemed satisfied by this. He turned towards Suerte, crouching so that he could look him in the eyes. “Tell us everything this time,” he ordered, leaving no room for argument. “Leave nothing out.”

 

Suerte nodded, misery practically floating from his body as he sat back on his ankles, looking up at them. Haiden rose to his feet, but Suerte remained on the ground. Rai couldn't help but think it was better that way, what with the anger that rippled through their party.

 

Swallowing thickly, he reached for his sword and slowly began to unwrap the bandages that he had been keeping tight around the hilt and pommel. Something that Rai had always wondered about. As his fingers moved mechanically, so did his mouth, his story falling very disjointed.

 

“I wasn't lying about serving in the castle,” he began slowly, his voice cracking. “But I wasn't born in Weirth. My parents and elder sister actually live in Archidona. I wanted to be a member of the guard so they allowed me to leave for Weirth. All of us started out as servants in the castle before we were accepted as initiates to the guard.”

 

Blood and dirt-stained bandages drizzled to the ground, revealing a cross guard and hilt that was suddenly very familiar. The symbol for the castle guard stood prominently in the center, the curling outline of a purple columbine. And then, it started to come together in S'raiya's mind, every bit of Suerte's behavior and his desire to be the hero.

 

He dropped his gaze to the younger man. “You were there, weren't you?” he asked, eyes narrowing faintly. “The day the ruhin came.”

 

Suerte fidgeted, his fingers tightening in their grip around his sword's hilt. Thumb rubbing constantly over the etched flower, a symbol of resolve.

 

“Suerte?” Haiden prodded, a growl of warning in his tone.

 

“I was scared!” he suddenly blurted out, and when he looked up at them, his brown eyes reflected that fear. So deep that Rai couldn't imagine what he must have seen. “I was still just an entrant. I hadn't even gained my first badge.. What could I do?” His free hand settled on his knee, squeezing tightly. “I had to run.”

 

Maro cursed under her breath, something in her own language and very likely derogatory. “And discard your fellows?” She sneered. “Abandoning your comrades is the worst cowardice.”

 

Suerte flinched as though her words had been a physical blow and his head hung again, almost as if baring his neck to the executioner's strike. “I was powerless,” he muttered, biting his lip in an effort to contain the emotion. “I watched my king die because I was frozen in fear. And then I watched them come, one after another, pouring out of that damn portal.”

 

He dragged in a shaking breath, dropping his sword to the ground with a clatter and reaching up to grip the back of his neck, squeezing and rubbing as though remembering some wound or terrible event. Suerte looked perfectly miserable, kneeling in his shame and guilt.

 

Rai forced his own gaze away, unable to bear the sight. It was tugging inside of him. Nothing quite like sympathy, but closer to understanding, like a distant cousin. Suerte was the youngest of them outside of Gaelin. Idealistic and naïve, wanting to believe in the good of mankind and the heroes of his grandfather's stories. And maybe, Rai could understand why he would hide the shameful truth.

 

It didn't excuse the lies, especially in the eyes of their companions, but he could understand it. And Rai wasn't absolutely certain that he wouldn't do the same in that situation.

 

“Suerte,” Rai answers with a faint sigh. “This is his hometown.”

 

Haiden blinks and turns to survey the town, as though he could spot something that would remind him of their fallen companion. “The letters. I should've realized.”

 

Moving to hold his cider in one hand, Haiden begins to dig through his saddlebags and finally produces a series of crumpled papers. He flips through them, dropping one to the ground in his haste. Sighing, Rai crouches to grab it for him.

 

The document is a folded piece of thick paper, probably used for an envelope. The writing on it seems familiar to him, tight and incisive, each letter practically etched into the paper. In fact, it is very similar to--

 

The paper is snatched out from under his fingers and hastily stuffed into Haiden's saddlebags. “Suerte's parents wrote to Ryn. Apparently, a survivor of the guards had wandered out here spilling all kinds of tales. They wanted answers.”

 

He eyes Haiden from the corner of his vision. “And what did you tell them?” he asks, refusing to shiver when a particularly chilly gust of wind buffets at his body.

 

“Nothing yet,” the other man admits, and promptly follows the acknowledgment with a heavy sigh. The burst of air ruffles at his dark hair, making the choppy strands flutter.

 

Rai knows that sigh and stares at his best friend. “You want to visit them, don't you?” he accuses sharply, just a bit irritated.

 

When Haiden doesn't immediately respond, it is all the answer Rai needs. He resists the urge to throw his hands into the air as it would waste good cider. “We might as well find the nearest inn then,” he grumbles, immediately scanning the rather thin crowd.

 

Stormy eyes blink. “What? Why?”

 

“Because I'll be damned if I'm stuck tending horses outside again,” he mutters, grabbing Flynt's reins with his free hand and looking around for a sign or something. His glare scares off anyone he could potentially ask, not that Rai is in the mood to tone it down.

Behind him, Haiden follows just a bit sheepishly. “It was hard to write the details down in a letter,” he explains, despite Rai's complete disinterest in an explanation. “Besides, it's not really something one wants to hear impersonally.”

 

Rai is too busy muttering under his breath to pay any attention to what Haiden is saying and his friend eventually gives up. He focuses on finding them an Inn, and soon enough, they leave their horse in the care of the stable and set off into Archidona, seeking out Suerte's childhood home. Haiden's smile and politeness locates several helpful individuals who point them in the direction of the east side of the village, where they must cross a small stream sluggishly moving within its banks. An occasional piece of ice floats by.

 

“Charming,” Rai remarks as they step over the creaking wood, barely wide enough for them to walk beside each other and completely lacking anything resembling a hand rail. The crevasse beneath them is rather deep, even if it only harbors a shallow stream. And he doesn't relish the thought of dropping down into it and breaking his neck.

 

Haiden says nothing, doesn't even shoot him a look. And Rai chances a glance over his shoulder to see what has the dark-haired man so distracted. He is fiddling with something, and his gaze sights of something that catches the sun every other moment. It is threaded onto a leather string, long enough to be worn as a necklace, and Rai vaguely remembers seeing something similar around Haiden's neck. Though the charm had always been safely tucked beneath his tunic.

 

“What is that?” he asks once they are safely on the other side, gingerly stepping around a questionable puddle of likely freezing and sticky mud.

 

Wordlessly, Haiden lets the leather slip through his fingers as he holds it up for Rai to see. “You don't recognize it?” he prompts, the charm now in full view.

 

It is a crystal, unshapen and never formally hewn, roughly attached to the string of thick leather. And if he remembers correctly, it is something that used to constantly adorn Suerte's neck. He would occasionally take it out, rubbing a thumb over the rough quartz. Something given to him by his grandfather, he had told them with a sad smile, who always had stories of brave knights and heroes to share.

 

“They deserve to have some piece of their son,” Haiden continues quietly, watching as the quartz captures the light and sends it sparkling in all directions.

 

S'raiya tips his head to the side. “What else did you keep of his, you grave-robber.”

 

Stormy eyes instantly glare as Haiden closes his fingers around the necklace and puts it in his pocket. “He gave me that sword, asshole.”

 

Rai smirks, pulling his cloak tighter around his frame as they step into a section of Archidona that seems primarily residential. Homes are crowded into the small area, back to back and side to side, smoke curling from every roof.

 

“You didn't answer the question.”

 

“Che.” His peers around, trying to find some indication of where they should be heading next. “This is all I have. And for your information, I claimed it from Ryn with the intention of giving it to Maro. I know you remember how much Suerte admired her.”

 

Rai snorts aloud. “He wanted to fuck her. There's a difference between admiration and lust, Haiden.” He tips his head to the side. “You probably didn't know that though. Considering you were going to marry Rynneth.”

 

“Don't make me hurt you,” Haiden counters, brow furrowing dangerously. “I doubt anyone will answer our questions if we start brawling in the street. That was crass, Rai.”

 

He shrugs, not particularly caring for courtesy when it is the truth. “Where are we going anyways?” he demands, changing the subject before Haiden gets his trousers in a knot.

 

Haiden glances around, trying to get his bearings, and then gestures vaguely to his left. “That way... I think.”

 

Rai rolls his eyes. Dragged along on another of Haiden's insane ventures, he should have known better. But if he hasn't learned his lesson by now, he also doesn't think he will ever.

 

Luckily, they don't end up spending countless hours wandering around Archidona searching for Suerte's childhood home. Haiden manages to charm some passing woman carrying a load of washing and she directs them in the proper direction, giggling all the while. Soon enough, they are standing before a modest looking house with what appears to be a carefully tended garden in the front yard. For some reason, Rai's spine crawls just looking at it.

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” he grumbles skeptically, though it does seem to fit in with Suerte's optimistic view on the entire world. He isn't sure if he should be frightened or skipping merrily through a field of daisies.

 

He prefers the former.

 

Haiden doesn't bother responding to his statement, striding towards the front door with determination painted across his shoulders. He is no more than two steps from the portal when it suddenly flies open and two children come tumbling out, laughing as they chase each other. Only to promptly crash directly into Haiden, whose first and proper “big brother” response activates, and he catches them before they hit the ground.

 

Two pairs of matching brown eyes look up at Haiden in awe, a few shades darker than what Rai remembers of Suerte.

 

“Sorry, mister,” the smaller child says, probably a boy beneath the dirt that dusts his cheeks and clothes from playing outside. He hurriedly disentangles himself from the other child -- girl? -- and the two give proper sheepish expressions.

 

“We didn't mean to,” the other kid insists, and Rai confirms female, though with children it is always difficult to tell. She lifts her fingers, twisting them in her curls

 

Haiden smiles down at them, ruffling their dark hair. “No harm done,” he replies pleasantly as Rai catches up to him, his pace much, much slower than Haiden's had been.

 

“Gabriel!” The call comes from within the house, sounding maternal and aggravated. “Adela, you too. Get back here ri--!”

 

Both Haiden and Rai lift their gazes to their door in time to see a woman appearing in the doorway, frustration etched into her rather youthful features. She draws up short at the sight of them, one hand fluttering to her chest before her eyes harden.

 

“Who are you?” she demands, striding down the walk and reaching for the children with both hands as though to protect them. “I don't recognize you as being from here.”

 

Rai lets Haiden handle her confusion, knowing that his friend's charm is far more suited to the occasion than his own attitude.

 

“We're not,” Haiden quickly explains, trying to trace the fear and concern from her eyes. “We came because I received a letter from.”

 

She tips her head to the side, pulling the children closer against her as they watch the two older men. “You... you're the ones from the rumors?”

 

Haiden nods, his smile sad and apologetic. “I am Haiden, he is S'raiya. And you?”

 

“Nieve,” she answers carefully, still not assured of their identity. “Suerte's eldest sister. You said you received a letter?” she continues, turning back towards the house and ushering the children ahead of her. It is clearly an invitation to follow.

 

“From your parents.” Haiden moves after her, exchanging a quick glance with Rai as he does so. “They wanted to know about Suerte and I felt that it was the type of information that could not be given through writing.”

 

Nieve pauses, her hands falling slowly from where they were urging the children into the house. Dark hair brushes over her shoulders and into her face, obscuring her expression.

 

“Mama?” Adela questions as the boy heads into the house, no doubt lured by the odors wafting from the interior.

 

She shakes her head. “Go wash up,” Nieve commands quietly. “I'll join you in a minute.”

 

Adela doesn't seem perfectly convinced, wise for her obviously young age, but she slowly nods and scampers into the house. Leaving the adults to their conversation. Silence passes all too heavily, carried by the burst of chill wind.

 

“Such methods of delivery often bode ill news,” Nieve begins, half-turning to face them. Her eyes are rimmed with sorrow, tears glistening but not falling. “Tell me the truth, so that I am better equipped to handle the grief of my family.”

 

Haiden takes a breath and reaches into his pocket, crossing the distance between them in a small step. His fingers emerge with the necklace, and reaching for her hand, he carefully pools the leather string into her palm. Her eyes watch the motion, filling with tears as the quartz falls into view. Haiden closes her fingers around the memento, his words falling in the sorrowful silence.

 

“I am sorry,” he begins, his voice catching as he holds her hand in his. “He fought well, until the end, and fell as he would have it. As a hero.”

 

She swallows thickly, jaw trembling, and the love for her brother is truly conveyed in her eyes. “He was brave, I'm sure,” Nieve responds, and Rai thinks that yes, Suerte was in the end. His family needs not know of his shame.

 

Haiden releases her hand, lets her take it back with the necklace within her hold. “He was always so enamored of our abeulo,” she remembers fondly, head tipping towards the ground. She doesn't even seem to notice the tears slipping down her cheeks. “It was all he ever dreamed... wanted.” She sniffs, fingers trembling, and for everything, it is as if this is the first she has ever suspected of her brother's passing.

 

Rai is certain that she had to have seen this coming. That after six months, she surely must know what has happened to her brother. But he also thinks that she must have been clinging to a faint hope that he would return to them. That he was alive and well, serving in the castle. That he had been heroic to the end, as he had always dreamed.

 

Dreams. Inwardly, he sneers to himself as Haiden moves to comfort the young women, patting her hand consolingly.

 

When was the last time he has dreamed? And has he ever, he wonders. He thinks of himself as a child, and tries to recall what fantasies once painted his future. What had he ever seen himself doing? And all he can remember are harsh memories, blocking out his youth. All he can see is the “back then” as it colors everything.

 

He might envy Suerte for that dream of his, even if it was nothing but naiveté and the foolishness of youth.

 

Sighing to himself, he turns his attention back towards Nieve and Haiden, the former having regained control of her emotions. She is surreptitiously wiping at her eyes, and gesturing towards the house with her free hand.

 

Rai thinks to himself that there are countless more family members that they have to explain this to, and a part of him squirms with discomfort. He curses Haiden inwardly for dragging him into this, issuing comfort not part of his expertise. And then he follows them inside, steeling himself for the encounter to come.

 

He is certain it will be far from pleasant.

 

* * *