Warriors raced past him, Em shouting orders to them. A sea of red streamed across his vision.
“Aren!” Olivia’s furious voice rose over the chaos around him. He blinked. She stood several paces away, her coat billowing in the wind. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to join me?”
Every instinct in his body told him to run. He’d never wanted to run from a fellow Ruined before.
Iria shot past his vision, calling over her shoulder to another warrior. She cast a frantic look at the advancing Vallos soldiers.
He snapped to attention. If he didn’t fight, too many would die. Iria might die. He couldn’t change what Olivia had done, but he could protect his friends.
He jogged to Olivia. She grabbed his hand and roughly made him turn, so he was facing the army of Vallos soldiers. Warriors scattered out of the road, leaving nothing between Aren and the approaching horses.
The Vallos soldiers were dressed in black, torches bobbing in the darkness. There were several hundred of them.
Olivia squeezed his hand. He swore he could feel her power coursing through him. He’d never felt that with any other Ruined. He didn’t even know if it was possible.
Horse hooves beat against the ground. They were close enough that he could hear the yells.
“Detach,” Olivia said. “I can feel the emotion coming off of you. Don’t make me do this all myself.”
He nodded. He cleared his mind, beating down the swell of guilt.
Two men at the front of the line toppled off their horses. Olivia had started.
“Take the left,” she said.
He narrowed his eyes. He was strong. He felt nothing. He could do this.
Why couldn’t he do this without blood?
Blood sprayed from the men as he tore into their chests. Olivia was so much cleaner. Why wasn’t he clean?
The men on the left side began to fall, one at a time. His Ruined power sizzled in his body, sending fire through every limb.
The men were closer now. He couldn’t get to all of them before they got too close.
A Vallos soldier was right in front of his face. Aren gasped, the world suddenly coming into sharp focus around him. His ability to detach slipped through his fingers.
The soldier made a fist and Aren leaned back to avoid it. It grazed his cheek. He focused on the man’s neck.
Aren had meant to break his neck, but instead blood spurted from it. Everything was red. The soldier clapped his hand to it as he fell to his knees.
Aren’s body felt heavy from using his magic, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He’d lost Olivia’s hand and he had to work harder to detach this time.
“Aren!” Olivia’s voice cut through the chaos and he opened his eyes just in time to see a soldier running straight toward him, sword drawn.
Aren tossed him aside. He forced the noise out of his head and focused only on the soldiers in front of him.
Bones broke. Heads rolled through the dirt.
He could hear Olivia laughing.
He tried to laugh. Nothing.
But there was more blood. Soldiers were running away from him. Olivia picked a few of them off.
He wiped his arm across his forehead. Everything was wet.
He looked down. Blood.
Pain seared across his flesh, and he cocked his head as he watched the new Ruined mark on the inside of his wrist split open. Weakling. They were shooting it at them.
But he couldn’t even feel it. Shouldn’t he have been able to feel it?
Ruined around him screamed, but he and Olivia stood their ground. The Vallos soldiers didn’t have nearly as much Weakling as the fortress did, and pieces of the herb fluttered to the ground.
“Aren.” Olivia pointed to something in the distance. A long line of people on foot, in wagons, on horses. The soldiers were just a distraction to allow the people to get past Sacred Rock. They were probably trying to get to Lera.
Olivia took off running. “Come on!” she yelled over her shoulder.
Aren didn’t follow. Jacobo and a few other Ruined pushed past him to run after Olivia.
Screams rippled through the crowd. Bodies launched into the air and hit the ground with a thud. Olivia didn’t need to use her arms to control her power, but she swung them along with the bodies like she was conducting musicians.
He turned away.
A Vallos soldier was scrambling to her knees, and she froze when Aren spotted her. A piece of dark hair fell from her bun, her heavy breath blowing it away from her bloodied face.
“Run.” His words were barely a whisper and he wasn’t sure if they were for her or himself. “Run.”
She took off at a full sprint, dodging bodies. Ahead, a soldier held his hand out, and she grabbed it and they ran together. A warrior watched them go, raising her eyebrows at Aren. She took the bow off her back and looked at him questioningly. He shook his head.
Behind him, the screams slowly died out. The warriors around him sheathed their swords. Some of the Ruined were laughing. The few Vallos soldiers left alive were disappearing the way they came.
He blinked at the bodies around him. Last time they were dressed in blue; this time in black and yellow. No matter what kingdom they came from or what color they wore, they all ended up like this. Dead at his feet.
Em was in front of him suddenly, her forehead creased. She said something he didn’t understand.
He muttered something he hoped sounded like “what?” The world was growing dark around him, his vision reduced to a tiny spot in front of him.
“I asked if you’re all right,” she said.
“Hmm.” What a stupid question. “I told her not to.”
“You told who what?”
“I told Olivia not to kill those people. They came because she killed them.”
“Wait, what? Olivia killed who?”
He shook his head. He was tired of answering questions. He didn’t want to be standing in front of the people he’d killed.
“Olivia!” Em yelled. She took off. “Olivia!”
Aren sidestepped a few exhausted Ruined. He wiped his hand across his face. Red. He looked down at his shirt. Red.
He wanted to run. He was telling his body to run, but it wouldn’t listen. He was surprised he was even still walking. His legs seemed to be moving on their own.
He finally reached the bakery, and he started up the stairs to the little apartment above it. Was someone calling his name? It was too much effort to turn around.
He pushed open the door. He stopped over the threshold.
What was he supposed to do now? It seemed like he had come to his apartment for a reason.
“Aren.”
He knew that voice.
“Aren?” Iria appeared in front of him suddenly. “What’s …” She trailed off as she took in his appearance.
He looked down at his hands as he walked past her. Lots of blood.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“What?” Iria’s footsteps were near.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, but not to her. “I don’t know if that’s what you would have done, but I think …” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”
His parents didn’t answer. They never did.
He looked up. Her face was drawn, like something was wrong.