Maraño kneeled on the ground, his hands shaking as he stared at the bodies lying in front of him. They were safely piled, each one covered with cloth. The smell of blood still lingered in the air. His people—his warriors, his family—were dead.
His heart felt like it was breaking.
Tears formed in his eyes, but he held them back.
“Leon,” he whispered at first. Then louder, “Leon, why?” he added.
Leon stood a few steps behind him, his head low.
“Why did you lock me in?” Maraño asked again, pain in his voice. “Why did you stop me from fighting?” he added.
Leon clenched his fists tightly. His jaw tightened. He had been waiting for this question.
“Leader,” he said softly, but the leader wasn’t done.
“Leon!” Maraño shouted and stood up. His eyes were burning with grief and anger. He wal
