Falling to his knees, Rawn filled the hills with his ragged screams. He screamed until his throat was raw and he had no more tears to give.
Then he hunted.
He didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat.
Rage drove him as Rawn down every Force Sentry he could find before they ever reached the East Wall. Each one suffered the pain his sister suffered threefold. Their blood seeped into his pores. It coated his armor and soaked his cloak. To the point, his people now called him Isemrac Arabmos.
The Red Shade.
For all of Rawn’s efforts, Anon had slipped through his fingers, and he never found Sylar. Perhaps it was a blessing not to see what they had done to his best friend. The mission was an utter failure. He didn’t protect the princess, and it cost the lives of the only two people he had in the world. Rawn could never forgive himself for this.
“You have honored your kingdom,” King Leif said. “Now I will bestow an honor on you. Whatever position you wish to have here in the castle or in my army, it is yours.”
Rawn didn’t look up from where he knelt at the steps of the dais. He felt Aerina’s eyes on him, but he stared blankly at the runner.
Honor?
Whatever shred of honor he had was lost during his rampage of vengeance. He was filthy. Rawn felt it in his soul. He wasn’t worthy of any honor.
The distant chimes of bells came from outside, where all of Greenwood feasted and reveled, celebrating their victory over Red Highland. All the while, his sister and best friend rotted. What kind of victory was this?
“The king awaits your answer,” his father said.
Even the sharp edge was missing from his tone. Shadows lined the General’s face. The only signs of any grief he felt for his lost daughter. Eldred had taken a leave of absence to mourn his son.
“I ask for nothing, sire…” Rawn murmured.
“You have completed your mission and deserve a reward. Ask of me any position. Be it a knight or a Ranger, even a Crown Sentry as my Red Shade. Whatever you desire will be yours.”
He had no more desires. They died with his sister.
Sighing at his silence, King Leif rose from his throne and came down the steps of the dais. “Well take some time to think about it. You have been through a trying time, soldier. Greenwood’s princess is alive and well, thanks to your efforts. We are celebrating your great deeds tonight. Go and enjoy yourself.”
Rawn bowed as Leif and his father headed for a side door, followed by his Kingsguard.
“Are preparations underway?” Leif asked one of his attendants.
“Yes, sire. Lord Karheim has chosen a spring date for the wedding. That is enough time to…” Their voices faded as they went into the hall, leaving him alone.
Or so he thought until a small pair of slippered feet came to stand in front of him.
“Rawn…”
His weary eyes closed at the sound of Aerina’s soft voice. Her dynalya scent stirred around him. Rawn stood, but he didn’t lift his gaze.
“I … I had a chest made for Nisa and Lowenna ... for their ashes.” Aerina handed him a polished box made of fine wood. It shone under the chandelier lights. It was gilded in gold, exquisitely carved with a horse galloping in a field of flowers. “They rest together now.”
The emotion in her voice made his throat clamp and his vision sting. He accepted the small chest.
“I am sorry Nisa’s life was cut short. It was not right.”
It was the first lament that sounded genuine.
Not “Sorry for your loss,” or “She is in a better place.” But sorry that she didn’t live the life she was meant to.
Silence filled the throne room again as he waited to be dismissed, but she wasn’t finished.
“Rawn…”
