Chapter 12 #2
“Eighteen children weren’t enough, maybe.” The scarred one spits into the fire. “The Falcon Unit delivered twenty-three from their village. Maybe we should have found more—”
“There weren’t more!” The older knight’s voice cracks. “We took every child in Feywildra that matched the criteria!”
My blood goes cold. Beside me, Garrett has stopped breathing entirely.
“The Falcon Unit,” the scarred elf says slowly. “Have they gone silent too?”
“No. Last I heard, they were still operational. Posted in the southern territories,” the older knight answers.
“And the Serpent Unit?” the young one follows up.
“Still active. It’s just our unit being hunted,” comes the answer.
“How many villages were there in total?” the young one asks quietly.
“I don’t know. Our unit did Feywildra. The Falcon Unit did Rivermere.
The Serpent Unit had... what was it? Ashdune?
” The thin nervous knight counts on his fingers.
“Dozens, maybe more. I was part of the unit stationed in dwarven territories before this. That was much better. At least we didn’t have to see our own kind die. ”
Multiple villages. Hundreds or thousands of people and dead children.
I look at Garrett. Even in the dim light, I can see his face has gone white. His hands are clenched so tight his knuckles are bloodless.
“Why Feywildra? Out of all the villages in Aelfheim, why that one? Could the hunter be someone from Feywildra who survived?” the scarred knight suddenly snaps. “Maybe this is revenge.”
“The Aeonians chose them,” the nervous knight continues. “Every village, every ritual. They selected the targets, provided the specifications for the sacrifices.”
“Orders to murder children,” the older knight says quietly. There’s something broken in his voice. “We knew what we were doing. We knew the children’s essence would be harvested to sustain the Aeonians.”
“It doesn’t matter if they’re old or young,” the thin one mutters, staring into the fire. “As long as the essence is strong. Maybe we should have spared the children.”
“The Aeonians feed on the pure spirit of the vessel. Pure spirit burns brightest in the young,” the scarred knight’s voice is barely a whisper now.
The veteran exhales shakily into the silence.
“We burned children alive and listened to them scream. We held them down when they tried to run. We—” He breaks off, his voice catching. “We’re damned. All of us. Whether this hunter kills us or not, we’re damned.”
“The Aeonians promised protection and power and glory. Where is it?” The thin elf’s voice rises, approaching hysteria. “We’re hiding in a cave like rats, waiting to be slaughtered! We fed them and they’ve abandoned us!”
Silence falls over the chamber. The fire crackles. Somewhere deep in the cave system, water drips with steady rhythm.
“We should run,” the young one finally says. “Leave Aelfheim entirely. Go across the sea, start over somewhere where no one knows what we did.”
“And abandon our families? Our lives?” the thin elf scoffs.
“What lives? We’re dead if we stay here.” the young knight whispers back.
They continue arguing, voices rising and falling. But I’m not listening anymore. I’m watching Garrett.
He’s completely still, staring down at the five knights with an expression I’ve never seen before. The full terrible understanding of what he’s stumbled into is written across his face.
This isn’t just twelve guilty knights… It’s a fucking system.
The Aeonians, immortal rulers who sit above even the Queen and the Council of Aldarelf are orchestrating the murder of people to sustain themselves. These Valorians are just the tools. Disposable and ultimately meaningless in the grand scope of it.
Thousands of people murdered and fed to beings who are supposed to protect the realm.
I don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to comfort him or help him process this. So I just watch him, waiting for him to break or rage or do something.
Instead, he stands.
Before I fully understand what he’s doing, Garrett is already moving. He slips down from the ledge with impossible quiet and reaches the edge of the firelight in seconds. His movements are soundless despite his speed.
“Good evening,” he says calmly, stepping into the light.
The five Valorians scramble to their feet. Swords clear scabbards with metallic rings that echo through the chamber. They freeze when they see who it is.
The Valorians stare at Garrett in stunned silence.
For a long moment nobody breathes.
“Commander Clayborne,” the older elf breathes. Recognition and terror war across his face when he realizes Garrett could have heard them. “Sir, we can explain. We were following orders—”
“Yes, I know.” Garrett takes another step forward. The Valorians back up instinctively. “The Aeonians ordered it. You were just doing your duty.”
The scarred knight finds his courage. He straightens his spine and lifts his chin. “We served the realm! We sustained the Aeonians who protect Aelfheim!”
“You murdered children to feed parasites.” Garrett’s voice remains calm, but there’s ice underneath now. “Tonight you answer for that.”
Shock settles heavily across the chamber.
“They’ll be looking for us,” the thin nervous one says quickly. “Captain Marcian will send reinforcements when we don’t report—”
“He’s dead,” Garrett says simply.
The older veteran stares at Garrett like he’s looking at death itself and the scarred knight takes an unconscious step backward. Absolute horror ripples through the group.
“You killed them.” The scarred knight stares at Garrett, realization dawning slowly across his face. “The ones who’ve gone missing. That’s you.”
“Yes.”
“They’ll stop you,” the young one says, but his voice shakes. “The Aeonians—”
“Aren’t here.” Garrett smiles, and it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen on his face. “No one is coming to save you. So I suggest you keep talking.”
I move then, dropping down from the perch and landing silently behind the Valorians. They spin, startled. I see the moment they realize they’re surrounded and trapped.
“Wolf,” Garrett acknowledges without looking at me. “Thank you for finding them.”
“What do you need?” I keep my voice neutral.
“A perimeter. Make sure no one runs.”
I move to block the main exit. The Valorians are now boxed in with Garrett in front, me behind, and solid stone walls on either side.
“You’re going to tell me everything,” Garrett says, staring at them. “How many units. How many villages. How the system works. Every detail.”
“Or what?” The young one’s voice cracks. “You’ll kill us? You’re going to do that anyway!”
“Yes, your lives are already over,” Garrett agrees simply. “What happens before the end depends entirely on you.”
The older knight swallows hard. He looks at his companions, then back to Garrett. “What do you want to know?”
“Start with the Falcon Unit. Where are they stationed?” Garrett’s gaze sweeps over him coldly.
“Southern garrison,” the older knight answers quickly. “Near the Feywild border.”
“Names.”
“I—I don’t know all of them…” He sees something in Garrett’s expression and speaks faster. “Lieutenant Farren commanded the Falcon Unit. Along with Sergeants Dovrun and Kellan. Those are the only names I know for certain.”
Garrett doesn’t blink. “What about the Serpent Unit?”
The older knight licks his dry lips. “Eastern territories. I don’t know their names. They have a different command structure.”
“Tell me about the rituals. How they work.”
Once the words start coming, they don’t stop.
Fear tears everything loose inside them until guilt and desperation spill out together in a relentless flood.
They explain the rituals piece by piece.
Children taken at night while families slept.
Fires constructed to exact specifications so the spiritual essence released correctly during burning.
Aeonians feeding from the deaths like parasites drinking from an open wound.
Every detail turns my stomach colder.
The young knight vomits midway through his explanation, doubling over beside the fire while bile splashes across the stone floor. None of the others pause speaking. If anything they talk faster afterward.
I force myself to listen carefully and commit everything to memory. Which villages burned. Who gave orders. How the rituals worked. The scale of the horror keeps widening until it feels impossible to fully grasp.
Eventually the chamber falls silent.
There is nothing left for them to confess.
The five Valorians stand around the fire waiting for judgment while Garrett slowly draws his sword.
“Wait—” the young one starts.
Garrett strikes in one fluid motion. The young elf’s head separates from his shoulders before he can finish the word. His body crumples, blood spreading across ancient stone.
The others try to run and fight. But they’re exhausted, demoralized, and trapped. Garrett cuts them down cleanly, one after another until only two are left, the older knight and the scarred one.
The older knight drops his sword. Falls to his knees. “Please. I have a family. Children of my own—”
“So did the parents in Feywildra,” Garrett says and kills him.
The scarred knight is last. He backs against the wall, sword raised in a futile defense. Blood from his companions pools around his boots. “You’re damned too now,” he gasps. “You’ve become just like us, a murderer. A monster.”
“I know,” Garrett says quietly.
Then he kills him.
Silence falls over the chamber. Five bodies lie in pools of spreading blood. The fire still crackles cheerfully, indifferent to the carnage.
Garrett stands among the dead, breathing hard. Blood spatters his clothes, his face, his hands. His sword drips red onto the stone floor.
He’s shaking.
I approach slowly, carefully. “Garrett.”
“There are more.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “So many more. The Falcon Unit. The Serpent Unit. However many other units they haven’t named.”
“I know.”
He looks at me, and his eyes are wild, desperate, and lost. “The Aeonians are the ones behind it all. The highest power in the realm. They’re immortal and untouchable.”
I step closer, reach out to take his shoulders. He’s trembling under my hands.
“I don’t know how to stop this,” he says. His voice breaks. “I don’t know—”
“Garrett.” I pull him away from the bodies, away from the blood pooling across stone that once housed my people. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”
He follows numbly, letting me guide him back through the passages. It’s easier going back. I memorized the route on the way in, every turn and junction. We emerge into the late afternoon sun, and Garrett stops at the entrance, blinking at the brightness.
“They’re feeding on people,” he says, staring at nothing. “The Aeonians are feeding on our children.”
“Yes.” I have no comfort to offer.
“And everyone just... accepts it. Participates in it,” he trembles, his voice hollow with disbelief.
I truly don’t know how to make it better or softer or more bearable for him. So I just stand with him in the fading sunlight and let him process the horror he’s uncovered.
He turns to look at me finally. “Forgive me, Wolf. I can’t keep my promise to you.”
I feel the disappointment but can’t blame him. Some part of me knew it would end this way.
“I told you this would end with the twelve. That I’d stop after I’d avenged those children.” He swallows, jaw tightening like he hates the next words. “I told you I’d stop after the twelve. But I’m not done. I can’t be done. Not when I know what I know now.”
I choose my words carefully. “Makes sense.”
“However many other units. Behind them, the Aeonians themselves.” He runs a bloody hand through his hair, leaving red streaks.
I reach out and grip his shoulder.
“You should go. Get away from this while you still can.” It comes out quiet, resigned.
He’s giving me an out.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say flatly.
He finally looks at me. “What are you saying?”
“I’m telling you that whatever you decide to do next, you’re not doing it alone.” I’ve made my choice.
Silence holds between us.
“You’d help me?” he asks quietly. “Go after the Aeonians? After beings who’ve ruled Aelfheim for thousands of years?”
“Yes. Probably.”
“This could take years. It could take my whole life and it might never end.” His voice drops. “It’ll probably kill us both.”
“I know that.” The answer feels heavier once spoken aloud.
“Then why?” He sounds desperate to understand.
I don’t have a good answer or the words for what’s happening in my chest and the certainty settling into my bones. So I just say, “Because someone should stop them.”
We walk back to where we left the Noctrals in silence. The creatures greet us with soft nickers, unconcerned with the blood on our clothes. We settle them for the night, then collapse in the same sheltered spot we used before.
Garrett is quiet as we prepare a small fire. Darkness falls as we eat rations. The temperature drops and stars begin to emerge overhead. I’m cleaning blood off steel when he speaks.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I pause in my work. Look at him across the fire. His face is drawn, exhausted, haunted by what he’s learned.
“For seeing the worst of me and staying anyway,” he says after a long stretch of quiet.
“We’ve both seen each other’s worst now,” I point out. “Seems only fair we stick together.”
He almost smiles at that.
We settle into our bedrolls and like last night, Garrett pulls his close to mine. This time I don’t turn away or put my back to him. I let him curl against me and press his forehead to my shoulder. His grip tightens, pulling me closer.
I hold him back.
“Wolf,” Garrett breathes faintly, still dreaming.
My name falls from his lips quiet and vulnerable in the dark.
I realize then I’m never going to survive this contract. Not because I will fail or someone might kill Garrett. But because by the end of it, I might not want to leave.