“Andor wasn’t just where our council met; we had friends and allies, more than we knew about that lived here. It was one of the first places liberated since the Berserkers’ rise to power. On our journey back it had been raining for two solid days, and all I could think about was how much I was looking forward to drying my socks and boots.” Ethan lifted his head from his hands. “That’s when we saw the smoke – smelled the tang of charred meat and burnt hair...”
Ethan faded off and Ric filled in the gap. “Andor was gone, and every person in it; even the children.” He looked around. “We still don’t know how many Berserkers were actually here, but we never underestimated our enemies again.” Something about the way Ethan stared at the wall in front of him made my chest hurt. There was more to the story, I was sure.
“Sometimes coming back here feels peaceful, like today. Like the bones of this place can still remember its heart, and though we can’t see them, our friends are still here.” Ric looked around again, searching. “At the same time, sometimes it feels suffocating for the same reason. A village as wonderful as this one was snubbed out like a matchstick because we left them unprotected. All of the funny, sweet and loving people were just…gone…and the heart stopped beating. Silent. Empty.”
From the corner of my eye I saw something move. A familiar chill worked its way up my spine as my locket throbbed. Its hair blew in the same gentle breeze that made the shreds of old curtains flutter. I turned to look and it stared back at me from behind a corner of old wall. A woman.
Ethan loosed a breath I hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Perhaps one day they can forgive us.” He exchanged a look with Ric and stood. The woman looked at the two sadly before she turned her attention back to me. “Until the day of our redemption all we can do is fight and prevent anything like this from ever happening again.”
“In that sense, having you here is a bit of a blessing, Ava.” I turned to Ric at the sound of my name. “It keeps the Berserkers’ eyes on us instead of everyone else.”
“Lucky me,” I said. “How long has this war been going on?” When I looked back the woman had gone. Did they see her?
“Longer than either of us has been alive. Berserkers didn’t even exist until after the slaughter of Lord Adrian’s household. That was several hundred years ago,” Ethan said.
“Even so, Ethan’s been fighting battles far longer than any of us – not all of them Berserker either.” Ethan shot Ric an exasperated look.
“Who else do you fight?”
“This was before – before anything; before I even knew what Berserkers were. As long as there is power to gain there will always be war.” Ethan looked toward the ruins once more.
He was done talking, that much was clear. Slowly, he walked over to the broken-down house where the woman stood minutes ago and placed his hand on the stone. I caught Ric’s eye in question but he shook his head sadly and followed after him. Ethan brushed his finger across his palm and something red appeared beneath; blood. Though they’d explained this all earlier it still surprised me somehow. Ric followed his lead and both of them let the blood collect in their hands before pressing it against the building, leaving a bold, red handprint behind.
“One day,” Ric said, so quietly I could barely hear him, “we’ll make up for everything that happened. We’ll make them proud.”
I looked at the ground for a moment. For some reason to look at them silently comforting each other in their grief seemed…intimate; too intimate to watch. But when I lifted my head, I had to silence my cry as hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring back at me. People leaned out of windows and over broken walls, some stood beside me and others away from me, and when I looked at Ric and Ethan nothing had changed. They couldn’t see or feel the people standing with their hands gently on their shoulders, including the woman from before.
The people next to me followed the others’ actions and placed their hands on my shoulders. They were light as feather grass and I could barely feel them. Everyone’s eyes were focussed on the two of them with such expressions of understanding, that’s when I realised; they were the souls of their precious dead. Beside me a little boy smiled up. He couldn’t have been more than seven years old. To have such a short life – it was cruel, but there was no malice within him. There was nothing keeping the spirits trapped there out of anger or disappointment. I had a feeling they weren’t trapped there at all.
They are proud, I wanted to say as the boy turned back to face me. They are-
My eyes stung and the little boy frowned, motioning me to come closer. I knelt slowly, as if any sudden move would scare him away, and felt the cool touch of his hand hovering above my cheek. He lifted them higher and placed them both gently over my eyes, and my tears stopped. When I opened them again, however, he was gone, they all were. I wiped my cheeks and blinked again and again.
The boys eyed me curiously as I looked for any sign they were still there. When I let my eyes drop to the floor, I stopped and smiled, motioning the others to come over. There between us all was the handprint of a child, no older than seven, and a polished, perfectly round stone. Ric picked it up with such aching delicacy and clutched it in his hand.
“I gave him this,” he said, before bending to touch the handprint.
There was one final breeze; one final energy that wrapped itself around my hand, before the boy disappeared for good. I could feel Ethan’s eyes on me as I looked back up and grinned. Ric’s eyes were glassy but nothing came of it.
“Show me,” I said quietly to them. “So I can know more about the place you loved.”
They smiled at that; a sad, sweet smile each, and they got to work building up their image of that fallen town and everyone they loved in it.
BY THE TIME they’d finished the sky above us rumbled as the growing-dark clouds finally burst. Rain battered us and in a matter of seconds we were completely soaked. Ethan yelled something but I couldn’t hear it over the belt of thunder and lightning that made the ground beneath my feet shake. He whistled as Ric shot off ahead of us and the great, black horse came to him. He leapt onto it, reached out for my hand and time seemed to slow as I looked at him.
The thick callouses on his hands from years of fighting and battles had long since scarred. His eyes were a soft grey at that moment, just lighter than the thundercloud above him and the expression on his face was gentle as he shot me a small, slanted smirk. I reached out for him, sliding my hand into his and I felt his strong fingers close around it pulling me up behind him. He took my hands and wrapped them tightly around his waist. His touch lingered a moment longer than it should have before we set off at the same dizzying speed as before.
The rain was so intoxicating that it made me laugh from the sheer force of it as it pounded against our bodies. The sky lit up as another belt of lightning forked across it and I cheered. Above the crash of thunder Ethan was laughing too. I’d never felt so alive or afraid, and it was there, in the ruins of Andor, that I realised how much I hated the idea of leaving him; of leaving all of them; and that it was possible that feelings of friendship could someday turn into feelings of love.
CHAPTER NINETEEN