(Emma)
The next morning, no one spoke much. No one smiled. The war was over, but it didn’t feel like a victory. Not when so many were gone.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Darius get dressed. His movements were slow, careful. His body ached, covered in bruises and healing cuts, but I knew it wasn’t the physical pain that made him feel down. It was the loss.
Fifty-seven warriors. Fifty-seven families left without a son, a daughter, a father, and a mother. Fifty-seven lives that should still be here.
I felt it too. The ache in my chest, the grief hanging over us. Some of them I had known well. Some were just faces I’d seen in passing. But every single one had fought for us. Had died for us.
Darius turned to me, his eyes dark and tired. “It’s time.”
I nodded and stood, slipping m
