Chapter 26 - Darkness
July
Only when I’m sure we’ve put enough space between us and the castle can I find the courage to stop, look back, and face the destruction we barely escaped.
“It’s not safe yet,” Galen suggests, frantically checking the same ear I saw him tapping earlier. “Shit! I lost it…” His voice is hushed by the ground rumbling beneath us and the daunting image of the solitary body of the Wise, shaking and glowing red in the distance.
The tears on my cheeks are cooler than the heat riding the violent wind blowing from the castle, and I let them dry while Galen keeps shouting something at me.
I push sticky locks of hair off my face and my eyes. My hand smells of blood and dirt when I cover my mouth in disbelief. “They have no time left…Whoever was up there with us…What have we done?”
We’re standing on the hill’s highest point, where fresh grass takes over the concrete path and begins its descent to the sea.
“How many?” I look briefly over my shoulder.
Galen’s silence is unsettling. Once again, I’m pulled between the need to run away from a flesh-and-bone red flag and the hope of finding out that there is something he is not telling me just yet.
He takes my hand, and I let him. “Knowing won’t change what happened. I told you, it was their decision.” He sounds resolute despite the mask of pain on his face.
I angle my head and take a step back. The more I dig, the more Galen becomes a different person.
He sighs but keeps his eyes steady on the Wise. The silver in his left eye gleams with the orange reflection of the castle in flames when he tilts his head towards me. “They knew the cost, and the time they bought us will be wasted if we don’t leave now—”
“Now…” I exhale, standing my ground. Perhaps I’m too scared to find out what else awaits.
“Sofia, we must go.” An order, not an offer, even if his hand is gentle on my shoulder.
“If they were there, they knew this was coming— ” I scan his face, the scratches on his forehead, his hair darkened by soot and soil.
“July!” Galen roars, and Libera echoes him, snatching me out of my reverie and throwing me against a wall of panic. Until everything around us goes unnervingly quiet.
I gape in awe, commanding my lungs to start working again.
The alarm in his eyes is enough for me. I flee, careful not to twist my ankles every time I stomp on uneven ground, following Galen when he speeds past me down the path to the shore.
It falls steeper than I remember, but it all becomes insignificant in the blink of an eye—the Blind Wise bellows behind us.
A gust of hot wind thrusts me forward with such strength that I fear my spine will snap if I don’t roll to the ground and down the hill. I wrap my arms around my head to shield my face from the shower of embers, hot stones, and debris that begins to rain after the apocalyptic sound.
Grass and soil, green and dark purple sky spin above me like I’m inside a wheel. When the optical illusion stops, I land face up with one arm braced over my forehead. My chest aches when I try to calm my breath down, but I’m alive.
Someone is tugging at my jumper, ripped in some places after tumbling down pebbles and rocks.
“Are you okay?” Galen coughs next to me.
“I think so—oh... Oh no…” I whimper, scrambling on my elbows to sit up. I should have stayed down, with my eyes to the sky. I should not have looked at the hill—never again.
Even from the hill’s foot, I should be able to spot the majestic building towering over Libera, reddish brown and sturdy against the sky.
Not a pile of ruins and smoke.
Against the fire-lit sky, indistinct dark silhouettes run and scream, confused by what’s just happened.
The islanders must have woken up at the sound of the terrifying explosion and left their houses to investigate.
Some head for the tall wall of dust rising from the sad remains of the castle, while others just stand in front of it, frozen by the sudden tragedy, or swinging like branches, dancing to the sound of their own lament, a constant background, a gut-wrenching, desperate melody.
I crawl away from that nightmare, shaking my head even if denying it wouldn’t make it any less real. When I look at Galen, his clenched jaw and resolute expression confirm I’m not dreaming.
My thoughts race each other, and I can’t control them. I try to get back on my feet, but my hands slip on the drenched soil, and I fall back on my elbows. “We need to go back—we need—” My eyes burn, but I can’t stop staring at the mayhem unravelling so quickly.
“Sof, look at me,” Galen kneels between my legs, obscuring for a moment that image of terror, and cups my face, “The choice is up to you. I’d follow you anywhere, even if that means marching towards certain death.”
Under his damp curls, his eyes skim my face for any sign of significant wounds, like he does every time I come back from a mission, then he gently rubs a thumb on my dirt-covered jaw before lowering his hands to my shoulders.
“Has this got anything to do with that Rogue Roden so desperately wants?” I sink. Deflate.
Galen’s eyes widen, but he quickly regains control. Only a nod as if saying the words will break whatever protection spell has kept us alive until now.
“Those people on the tower… the man who nearly killed us. The…” The word gets stuck in my throat.
“Herionos? It’s not that simple.” He nods, distractedly brushing the exposed skin of my collarbones.
Of course, it is not—especially when the closest threat comes from a myth.
The Herionos were - are - Harvesters who never approved of the way Roden decided to use our powers. They were the leading cause of the riots that forced the Harvesters away from Horigos. But they didn’t let Roden and his followers go without leaving a trail of casualties on both sides.
Or so the books say.
The warmth I felt back at the tower, burning my skin through the stone walls and forcing me down the hill, is nothing compared to what’s brewing inside me now. Pushing my hands and knees against the soft ground and digging my fingers into the soaked soil, I slowly peel myself back up.
I’ve spent years thinking I was alive when, in fact, I’ve only let others impose their purpose upon me. But now I can see clearly what I have to do and what I want to do.
“Ask me again? Ask me why I want to leave this place?” I look Galen straight in the eyes as he kneels at my feet.
He bows his head, and I extend my hand to help him up.
“I think I don’t need to,” he mutters. His eyes scan my face, reading on my scratched, sore skin the list of lies and truths thrown at me in the last couple of days.
“At least tell me,” I squeeze his hand. “How did they get here? How did the Herionos evade our aerial shields and land on the Wise?” My voice breaks on the last word as if mourning a friend.
Galen’s hand tightens around mine, clammy and damp with water and blood. The skin on the back of his hand is rough when I slightly brush it with my thumb.
“Someone let them in…Someone is interested in that Rogue as much as we are and must have gotten to the details of your mission just after Evelyn shared it with you.”
As much as I enjoy the idea of someone wanting to fuck up the Chapter’s plans the same way they did with my life and mind, I can’t ignore the fact that many innocent Harvesters are now involved; their homes and lives irremediably endangered, like after the Great Famine.
“They should go after Roden.” I dig my nails into my palm.
Galen lets go of my hand and remains silent for a moment, observing the fire in the distance as it devours what’s left of the Blind Wise inch by inch.
“This won’t stop Roden,” he mumbles, slowly turning his attention to me. “This wasn’t aimed at Roden…”
Revelation booms louder than the recent explosion. I back up, shaking my head.
“I’m the only one who can destroy that soul. They’re after me?”
Galen sighs, “This is why I wanted to meet you on the tower. I was ordered to fly you from the island before your official crossing. The others with me on the Wise were only supposed to ensure we got away without interference. But—”
“The Herionos got there first. And the shore?”
A feline smile stretches on his lips. “Our people didn’t survive for centuries without mastering second and third alternative escape routes.”
The glaring flames shine behind Galen like a halo. I look past his shoulder. “That doesn’t justify the lives lost up there.”
I can’t shake away the thought of me being here, close to safety, while innocents are battling not just the fire, but also against the Herionos running freely through Libera’s streets.
Screams of war and cries of pain ring loudly in the air.
Galen grabs my wrist and motions towards the bottom of the hill. “People who believe in our cause are at work to save as many as possible. I know you have more questions than ever, and there will be time for explanations. But, for now, I need you to trust me.”
When I hesitate and yank my arm away, he grimaces and grits his teeth, glaring at the blood stain on his shirt, which has spread a little bit more.
I step closer, meaning to lift his shirt to check the damage, but he holds a hand up, pressing the other against his abdomen.
He’s fighting for breath, and it sounds like something small is rattling inside his chest. “I’m fine. Someone will fix me up, but we must now reach the shore. She saw me like this so many times—” He groans in pain, bending over and landing a hand heavily on my shoulder.
I stagger slightly under his weight, but I regain my balance and tilt his head up. “Are you sure this person is still there? Despite everything that’s happening?”
A nod—that’ll suffice for now.
Far whistles seem to follow us.
“Do you hear that?” he coughs.
“It’s the rain extinguishing the fire—”
He shakes his head. “They’re patrolling the area, looking for us.” He grabs my hand, pulling me closer, and I can’t help but gaze worriedly at his shirt splotched with blood.