Bright One | Empire of Blood and Swords Series

Epilogue

-Epilogue-
Seth

The Five came to bid us goodbye. Well, now they could be renamed to The Four, with Athos gone and all. 

Speaking of Athos. . . 

Paul and Sun gathered armies to sweep the town and every corner of Kells, all just to look for traces of Athos. He disappeared like mist with wind. Leaving no trail nor sign. 

Nixon is now in charge of our generals. But even he seemed a little fazed by the news. They were all good friends, including Ryker. Zachary and Rubio were like sons to him. But seeing their faces now. . .

Hurt and betrayed. 

The courtyard was back in business, with a new batch of students from the nearest town coming to train. It would be quieter now, with Saoirse gone. 

My heart ached just thinking of her. She wanted to come home one last time. . . she never got the chance to. 

Sapphire leaned onto the carriage, her eyes cold and dark. I didn't fail to notice her fists, knuckles white. My grandparents were already in the carriage, along with Samson and Odette, who refused to talk to anyone other than me. 

"We will meet them again. So I'm not going to talk to them because I am 100% certain we will meet again before death." She said while we walked down the stairs. 

"Do you have to go?" Sapphire pulled me aside. 

I pursed my lips, knowing exactly why she doesn't want me to go. "I'm sure sister Saoirse. . ." I trailed off, unable to address her without a lump rising in my throat. But I pushed it down, "I'm sure she would love to see you talk to the others."

I offered a gentle smile, seeing her wince. "The last three aren't here. Nor were they in the meeting." She muttered in my ear. 

I looked around me, and clear realising the missing three brothers I have. The youngest three don't join us that much. Ever since at a young age, they've been with Vincent and Grace. And they stay at Persha more often than they lived in our castle. So our relationship has drifted apart. 

"I have to go," I told her. 

She nodded. "Take care, brother."

And with that I climbed into the carriage and sat beside Samson, opposite of Odette. That smile she flashed me in her room lingered in my mind. So bright, as if nothing was disturbing her. I will bring that smile of hers into cultivation. 

My grandparents sat beside her. Mhamó stared at nothing, those greyish held no emotions. I followed seanathair's gaze to Sylas talking with Sam. My brothers' faces were gloomy, though they were talking with passion. At this point, I wasn't sure if they were faking it anymore. 

"I'm worried about him," my grandfather suddenly said and made me jump. Odette turned to him, and Samson raised an eyebrow.

"Who?" I asked, curious to know.

"Sylas."

I looked at my grandfather, for a second, the old man looked younger and more rebellious. My grandfather was the first son of his birth mother. His father had a few wives, and the wives have sons of their own. Of all the sons, my grandfather and his own brothers had a better relationship than the others. When they were younger, they used to steal things on the streets. But as they got older, they started to work.

I didn't know what happened next, but his father fell ill as my grandfather was becoming a grown man. He started to focus on politics and his people. He then understood the importance of keeping his people safe, and that was what he did.

"Why?" Samson asked.

"He would be fighting against his own thoughts and beliefs of love. I see it in him, he's in a battle."

"A battle against his own thoughts," I snorted.

The old wolf gave me a pointed look. "You may see him as a carefree and immature person, but he is mature enough to understand the things around him."

"I know that. It's just he doesn't seem very mature."

For a second he did not answer me. He only looked straight at Sylas and sighed.

"You are like your mother," he said at last. I tensed at the mention of her. "You're loving and caring and you try to understand. But Sylas, like Saoirse, has the exact personalities as your father. Robert was always a person who acts like a fool. However, deep down, they feel a lot. They might've even experienced more than we know."

I let my mind absorb all of this and nodded slowly. My grandfather seldom talks about my parents after their death, especially my father. But when he does speak of them, he uses their example wisely.

"Sapphire is a like your grandmother," he smiled and looked at the sky. "She can be kind and loving, but fierce like fire. Her intelligence makes her more dangerous. Something wolves should be proud of. My point is, Sylas doesn't know what love truly is. . ."

"What do you mean?" Odette asked. 

"Uncle Paul and Aunt Jane aren't people who would shower their kids with affection or love. They think it's embarrassing and useless. So it would make sense why Sylas wouldn't know what love actually is," and under my breath I whispered, "under their care."

Samson was under their care too. But both my uncle and aunt seem to put more effort into taking care of Suzanna and Samson. Sylas has always been an outsider. Even with me. 

"Do you remember that red-head Sylas was once head-over-heels with?" I asked my brother. 

"Aye,. It doesn't look like love though," Samson replied after giving it a thought. "She died. . . " He whispered. A moment of silence passed by before he spoke again. "But after that he never seemed to show any interests in women. Perhaps in men?"

My grandfather kicked him in the stomach and Samson burst into tears. He clutched my stomach and writhed in pain.

"Don't speak of such things. He would never find love again, nor will he accept love for what it brings," my grandfather scolded. "He has to change."

"Seanathair, as everyone keeps saying. However he doesn't seem to be changing. He keeps walking in circles between loving inventions to grieving over her."

Odette cleared her throat. "What happened to Sylas?" 

"I'll tell you in a while," I told her.

We turned to Sylas once more. His face was older than I last remembered. For a moment he doesn't look like the brother I've grown up with anymore. He looked like a complete stranger. The boy who has no intention of falling in love ever again.

But there was something behind those dumb, innocent eyes. A wild fire ready to burst through the coverage. And I saw a flicker of battle in him. 

"He's not walking in circles," my grandfather said, as if hearing my thoughts. 

Those lapis eyes shined. And I saw where he was heading. 

He's walking into a battlefield.

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