Who knew one terrible mistake could trigger a war so quickly. It hadn't even been a few months, and news of the Kinsmen of the Dark gaining grounds constantly reached their ears. Every able body was requested by the Council of Thirds to join the fro...
They didn't even make it through the tent flaps of the infirmary when they all heard two sets of running footsteps coming towards them. One was frantic while the other had longer strides. Nagan turned just in time for someone to grab his shoulder—his good one—as dark eyes peered at him with relief and urgency.
"Nag-g-gan! Y—You're—" Aitor looked at the rest of them, his face falling as he watched Az be ushered into the tent, practically being carried, Milora following behind. Dread filled Nagan when it was apparent Aitor noticed someone missing. "I-Is...h-has—s ev-veyone-one...Where's-s C-C-Carth...?"
"I..." Nagan couldn't bear to face Aitor anymore. He pulled Aitor in for a hug. "I'm sorry..."
Aitor stood still, his arms limp at his sides, but it only lasted a moment before Nagan felt Aitor's hands grip the back of his shirt. A quiet, hiccuping sob escaped the other boy, but to Nagan, it sounded tired. Defeated. Nagan couldn't say he fared much better. He didn't know what he felt anymore. He didn't even remember much of the ride back.
The camp was quiet with only the roaming guards and other arriving squadrons walking back and forth between tents. The moon and stars had been muted by the heavy clouds that rolled in over the last hour. Snow fell. But Nagan couldn't feel any of it, or maybe he didn't care.
Nagan was vaguely aware of another conversation happening to their right. The second set of footsteps that approached them alongside Aitor belonged to a young man with black hair, fair skin, and looked vaguely—almost painfully—familiar. Professor Fai rested his hand on the young man's shoulder as he talked to him lowly. While Nagan couldn't see the young man's face, he saw how he tensed suddenly. He said something back, and Professor Fai nodded grimly. That was when the young man stepped back suddenly, pulling away from Professor Fai's hand and marching in the opposite direction from where Nagan was facing.
Aitor pulled away at that moment, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hand. "H-Hon-n-noria."
"What?"
"C-Carth's old-older b-b-b-broth—ther."
It took a moment for Aitor's words to register, and Nagan whirled on his heel in the direction of where the young man—Carth's older brother—went. He was nowhere to be found. Another slash of guilt carved deep into him as Nagan fully realized what needed to happen now. Letters would be sent to Carth and Gath's families, informing them of what had happened.
"I didn't know he was here," Nagan said instead, firmly locking up his heart. He would take care of it, as this was now his responsibility. This was his burden to bear.
A medic exited the infirmary, one Nagan recognized as one of the medics who followed them back to keep Az stable.
"Sergeant Elvar."
Nagan flinched at the title.
"The head medic would like to see your shoulder," she continued. "There are a couple of potions you need to take if she sees any developing infection."
"Alright."
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