The Heretics

Bonus Chapter

There were a great many feelings that rushed through me when I regained consciousness. 

The first one was a crushing sense of utter loss that made tears spring to my eyes as soon as I was awake. 

Though I kept them closed, I tasted the salty liquid in the corners of my mouth. My chest was tight and though physically everything seemed fine, nothing actually was.

Breathing felt unbearably hard. I registered a hand find mine, holding it as the skin contact brought warmth and a small feeling of comfort. But there was too much loss and pain that raked through my entire body that raw guilt cut through me with a bleeding force.

"What happened?" A throaty croak followed and somehow in my gut, I knew what happened without needing the details. 

I could feel Dante's pain like it was my own and it was unimaginably unbearable. 

It was as though everything good was no more and all that was left was a dark void of utter grief. It crushed me in every way. And it wasn't just Dante's agony. It was Reagan's and Tyrion's. My own. 

Reagan took a deep breath, I could hear him sit right next to me. It was the only sound that filled the room I was in. I couldn't bare to open my eyes and see the faces of those that felt this gut-wrenching misery.

"You did it," Reagan said, though it wasn't what I needed to hear.

I remembered falling to the ground out of exhaustion. I'd been prepared to die—to give my life, the last of my energy—so the Ancients could survive. A wail escaped my dried lips which burned as they moved when another recollection came back to me.

Reece.

It was as though Reagan had felt it coming and instantly moved closer to me.

"Reece is fine," he muttered, though there was only little comfort behind his words. There was more. Despite instant relief flooding my system, there was too much pain in this room to let me feel at ease. No, it wasn't Reece.

It was someone else.

"Ryker," I whispered.

And as if merely whispering his name had triggered an avalanche, it came tumbling down. It was as though the slope had been built in tears, in agony and grief, with his name making the avalanche break off from it and moving it downhill with pain and suffering just to pick up mass the further down it went.

As if speaking his name suddenly made it real.

I cried. I shed Reagan's tears, Tyrion's and worst of all, I carried merely a fraction of Dante's grief.

Dante had broken into a million pieces. I cried for him, most of all.

☼

There was a peacefulness to the land that felt surreal as I gazed upon the golden fields moving in front of me. A soft breeze travelled across the scenery as an eerie silence stretched itself over it, reaping the wayward souls scattered across the battlefield. I felt a strange emptiness inside of me as I saw the arch, marking the western entrance to Polla'Nisia. It was here that an arrow had sailed through the air, signalling the beginning of a devastating fight that cost hundreds of souls their lives. 

I had come to learn that no war ever fought, was a war won. 

In war, there was only loss.

Kendra came up behind me, quietly approaching. Her emotional signature was vibrant, and I could sense that today was a good day for her.