Riona shook her head violently, her body curling protectively around Emry. “No,” she said, her voice cracking. “No one touches him. No one.”
Sorcha’s throat tightened as she forced herself to speak, her voice quiet, pleading. “Riona… Eirin’s right. We can’t leave him here. Please. We’ll take care of him. I swear it.”
Riona’s head snapped up, her tear streaked face twisted with anguish. “No! No one touches him!” she cried, her voice raw with desperation.
Eirin knelt beside her, his expression solemn, his honey-colored eyes glistening with unshed tears. Rhosyn and Drystan joined him, their movements slow and deliberate, their faces etched with understanding and grief.
Eirin placed a hand gently on Riona’s shoulder, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll carry him. All of us.
Together. I promise you, Riona, we’ll honor him.”
For a moment, Riona said nothing, her body trembling as she clung to Emry. Then, her sobs broke free, wracking her frame as she lowered her head to his chest.
The group stayed with her, silent and unwavering, their shared sorrow binding them together in the darkest of hours.
Riona kissed Emry one last time, her lips trembling against his cold skin. She whispered somethingmeant only for him, her voice breaking as the words fell softly between them. Gently, she placed his head down, her fingers lingering for a moment before she stepped back.
She stood trembling, her entire body shaking as she looked at him, lifeless and still. The sight broke her all over again. The scream filled the air and seemed to shred the world to pieces.
Leaders from other Circles, townspeople, cadets, and officers alike turned their gaze to her, their expressions heavy with shared understanding. They stood amid the battlefield, now a mass graveyard, their grief palpable in the quiet that followed.
Eirin, Drystan, and Mason knelt beside Emry, their movements slow and deliberate as they lifted his body with great care. Sorcha moved to help, her hands trembling as she reached for him, her face streaked with tears.
Behind them, Riona stood motionless, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Rhosyn placed a steadying hand on her back, standing with her.Once at the medical ward, Sorcha remembered that Commander Nethran was dying, and panic seized her. She turned to the others, her words tumbling out in a rush as she explained that she needed to find a healer immediately.
Without waiting for a response, she bolted through the ward, her voice echoing as she screamed for a healer. A young woman, barely sixteen, appeared in her path. Sorcha didn’t have time to ask questions or assess her qualifications, only if she practiced healing. The urgency of the situation left no room for doubt.
The healer understood immediately, disappearing behind a door and returning with a pack filled with supplies. She spoke calmly but firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Lead the way quickly.”
Chapter 27
The Weight of Loss
Sorcha watched in awe as the young healer knelt beside Commander Nethran, her movements purposeful and precise. She placed the runes in a careful circle around him, murmuring softly. The runes responded to her voice, emitting a gentle hum as their light grew brighter. Swirling patterns of glowing energy appeared above each rune, weaving an ethereal glow over the scene. Sorcha felt a flicker of hope. The healer’s calm demeanor and deliberate actions gave her confidence that the Commander was in good hands. As much as she wanted to stay, Sorcha’s attention shifted to Kyron. His body had given way after the battle, making sure to give his distance from the others, as to not intrude. Sorcha glanced at the healer one last time before stepping outside to check on him. The scent ofstrong earthy herbs lingered in the air as the healer continued her work.
Sorcha found Kyron leaning against the side of the building, his face pale and drawn but his eyes scanned the remnants of the battlefield. He straightened when she approached, placing a firm yet reassuring hand on her shoulder. “He’s going to recover,” Kyron said, his voice low and filled with conviction. “I can feel it.”
The certainty in his tone left no room for doubt.
Sorcha nodded.
Kyron’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “Your friends need you,” he said quietly.
The words hit Sorcha harder than she expected as the air left her lungs when her thoughts turned to Emry. She forced herself to turn toward the town square, steeling herself for what she knew awaited.
As she walked the memories of Emry and Riona surged forward painting vivid and painfully clear pictures. Huddled together at the outpost where their hands brushed so subtly that anyone else might have missed it. She’d seen
the way Riona’s eyes softened when she looked at him, the way Emry’s guarded smile broke free so easily when Riona was near. All the assignments together, school study sessions and sparing, they always pretended they weren’t together but she had known for a long time they were in love.
Everyone did. But she never pressed Riona about it. Riona was private, and Sorcha respected that. It had been enough to witness the quiet moments they shared, like the time she stumbled upon them in the meadow. She could still see it now: the way Riona’s head rested against Emry’s shoulder, his hand tracing lazy patterns along her arm, their laughter mingling with the hum of summer crickets.
By the time she reached the town square, the sight that unfolded was shattering. The city she knew felt like a faraway dream now. The streets were littered with bodies; people and creatures alike all twisted and broken. The scent of blood hung thick in the air, mingling with the sound of muffled sobs that came from all directions. Sorcha stood silentwhere Emry had fallen, unable to look away from the spot where his blood still stained the cobblestones.
Riona stood there too unmoving, staring at the same place. Her eyes were bloodshot, brimming with tears that refused to fall.
“Riona…” Sorcha’s voice cracked as she stepped closer. She hesitated, her hand faltering mid reach, unsure what comfort she could possibly offer.
Riona didn’t speak. Instead, she turned her head slightly, her tear-streaked face twisting in anguish.
