Page 76 of Where Darkness Falls

“I’m not sure that’s a story you’ll want to hear, Rosey,” he mumbles.

I placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I murdered the soldiers in Aurelius,” I reply. “I assure you that I can handle your darkness.”

He’s hesitant as he looks at me, but I offer him the most sympathetic smile I can muster, even though the thought of what he could tell me weighs heavily on my heart. After a moment, he releases a sigh, nodding his head before returning his gaze out to the ruins.

“This,” he begins, his tone full of sorrow, “is the first place I was ordered to kill someone.”

An audible gasp escapes my lips.

“It was my first assignment for the king,” he continues. “I was seventeen, and I didn’t have a choice. This place is a reminder of what I’ve become, and how far I was willing to go to please my father.”

His voice hitches on the last word, and I feel such sympathy for the Galrosan High General. “I can still hear their screams in my slumber,” he whispers.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “Who were they?”

“A family,” Emyr replies. “Tiernan believed that they were hiding something important from him, and that—in his mind—is high treason. So, my soldiers and I killed the father and mother first. When it came time for me to punish the children, I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.”

“What happened to the children then?” I ask.

Emyr’s eyes close briefly as a single tear slides down the part of his face that’s not obscured by the helmet. Perhaps the High General is more tenderhearted than I originally gave him credit.

“That’s another story entirely,” he replies. “Not a day goes by that I wish I hadn’t becomethis, but I can’t escape. My actions that day led the king to believe that I defied his direct orders, which is why this place is still in ruins, and it wasn’t rebuilt. It’s my punishment and reminder that I became what he wished for me to be.”

“You were just a child, Emyr,” I say. “You never should’ve been put in that situation. You became what you had to be in order to survive.” I look around at the other members of the Cadre. “You all had to. I see that now, and for that, I’m so sorry.”

My heart hurts for the man behind me, and what he was forced to do as achild. It aches for his faithful friends that have stood by his side through it all—even if they became devils in the process.

My dear, devils shroud their sins in the darkness,Saoirse interjects.The Cadre have brought theirs to light—taking responsibility for their actions. They’re not devils so much as they are pawns.

I believe you’re ri?—

“You do not have to apologize for our choices, Maeva,” Laisren interrupts. “We might not have wanted to become trained killers, or “demons” as the Malvorianslovinglyrefer to us, but we’ve been able to stand together through the darkest of storms. This place is the dreariest for Emyr, while mine is on the battlefield. Virgil’s is the day he watched his sister die, and Riordan’s… well… I’m not really sure when his day occurred.”

“The day I was lumped together with you, mates,” Riordan jests, making us all laugh. “In all sincerity, though, it’s the day I had to stand by and watch Virgil being beaten to a bloody pulp by his father. He was the last one to join us in our training, so his father was ruthless and tougher on him than he ought to have been. We’d been training for at least four years before his arrival.”

“Indeed,” Laisren replies. “We didn’t even know Lord Kitt had a son until he presented Virgil to Tiernan to join our cadre.”

“What a happy addition it ended up being,” Riordan says, reaching across to slap Virgil on the shoulder. “Got my best mate out of the deal.”

“Because you annoyed me to no end until I agreed to be your friend,” Virgil answers in his usual stoic tone. However, from the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, it leads me to believe that he’s just as fond of his friend.

“Always so grumpy, mate.” Riordan tsks.

Virgil’s eyes connect with mine, and I smile at the Galrosan commander. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your sister, Virgil?” I ask.

The Galrosan stiffens, fidgeting with the reins. He’s quiet for several moments and none of the others cut in. He seems to be somewhere else in his mind—as if swept away to another time and place, perhaps reliving that moment again?

“She’s gone,” he whispers.

My smile falls at his declaration.

Well done, Maeva.

“I-I didn’t mean to cause you any?—”

“No,” he interrupts. “It isn’t you, Maeva. She’s been gone for a long time. It was before I joined the Cadre, and I actually ended up joining because of her.”

There’s so much heartache and grief reflecting from Virgil that feels like a complete mirror to my own. I suppose that’s why we’ve become friends. We recognized what a shredded and broken soul looks like in another person.