Chapter 36 Hard Truths
Hard Truths
Kyron knelt beside Sorcha, her body curled in on itself, her sobs so deep and raw that no sound escaped her lips, as Cat lay pressed against her, refusing to leave her side.
Kyron reached for her and hesitated, his hand hovering just above her shoulder.
He wanted to comfort her, but his guilt rooted him in place.
The weight of his own failures and regrets clawed at him, threatening to crush him.
Memories surged unbidden and unforgiving as he thought back to when he was sent to track Lugh and his wife.
The sickness Vaelric had unleashed twisted them beyond recognition, resembling Fomorians in a way, grotesque, monstrous and yet there had been a glimmer of something human buried deep beneath their cursed forms. He had spent months chasing whispers, tracking signs, holding on to the faintest hope that they might still be alive. But he had been too late.
When Sorcha’s arrow struck them, it had already been too late. Now seeing Sorcha in this state, he wondered if he had failed her too. If all he’d done had been enough.
He opened his mouth to speak but words stuck in his throat and his eyes burned from the tears he was holding back.
In the faint glow of the firelight, he could see the brokenness in Sorcha’s shattered heart and knew that anything he could say would fall short.
Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself and sat beside her, his arms falling by his side as he silently offered his presence.
He would stay with her for as long as she needed, until she told him otherwise.
Beside him, Sorcha’s mind and body were locked in a battle to accept the unchangeable. The hard truths she had no choice but to face. Vaelric’s twisted smile flashed in her thoughts again and again, his hideous, void-like eyes burning into her memory.
It wasn’t her fault, it couldn’t be. It was his. He had taken everything from her, stolen any chance of a future with her parents, any hope of peace. He haunted her in both sleep and waking hours, and he was the reason the realm was crumbling. All of it, every bit of it, was his fault.
She curled into herself the tears spilling until she had none left to weep, till the sobs fell silent and her body ached.
Lying there on the cold floor, Sorcha shuttered and her runes flickered, reverberating onto the floor, causing a reaction with the runes etched into the stones to answer as warmth slowly emanated from them, warming her bones.
The early morning light began to chase away the shadows casting threads of light into her eyes causing her to stir.
She slowly rose to her feet, her chest throbbing and head pounding but careful not to disturb Kyron and Cat, both fast asleep on the floor beside her.
Kyron’s breath was steady, and Cat cracked one eye open, watching her with quiet curiosity before settling back down.
Sorcha stepped over them carefully as she made her way to the bathroom.
Inside, she began to wash herself, scrubbing at her skin as though she could wash away the guilt and tears that clung to her.
The water was warm, but it didn’t quite reach the cold ache that had settled deep in her heart.
Still, she scrubbed, as if cleansing her body could somehow cleanse her soul.
After her bath, she stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection.
She’d grieved them once, years ago, when they hadn’t come back.
But there had always been a thread of hope, frayed and foolish though it was.
It hadn’t broken her. Not in the way people expected.
She turned everything off, because what else could she do?
This wasn’t the kind of life that allowed for breaking down, not when people were watching.
Not when people were counting on her to lead.
The person she had been before, before she knew the truth…
she was gone. A resolve hardened in her as she lifted her chin.
She let tears fall down her; she let herself feel the losses of her family and friends.
Standing there, her heart broke wide open once more.
Tears struck the sink below as she leaned over it, the only thing keeping her upright was the white-knuckled grip on its edge.
She cried until there was nothing left to give—until the ache inside her emptied.
Her thoughts circled around Vaelric. She would be the one to stop him. No matter the cost, no matter the blood, she would make certain no one else suffered as she had. He would not haunt another soul.
Wiping her face with a towel, she dressed quietly. The simple rhythm of smoothing fabric and pulling sleeves straight steadied her hands. By the time she moved to make tea and a light breakfast, her face was calm again, though the quiet inside her felt heavier than before.
When everything was ready, she walked over to Kyron, who was still sprawled on the floor, and gently shook his shoulders. “Kyron. Kyron, it’s morning.”
He cracked open one eye, his expression groggy. “What?” He blinked slowly, glancing around the room. “Is it really morning already?”
Sorcha’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Come get something to eat.”
At that, Cat stretched lazily and waltzed over to the table, hopping onto a chair and sitting upright, as if he were expecting a formal invitation to breakfast. The sight made Sorcha’s smile widen.
She grabbed some scraps and placed them into a small bowl for Cat, who purred contentedly as he began to eat.
Kyron groaned as he pushed himself up off the floor, clearly stiff from sleeping on the hard surface.
He rolled his shoulders and stretched, muttering about needing a proper bed.
Sorcha couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as she set a plate on the table for him.
Kyron met her gaze, his eyes heavy with grief, mirroring her own.
Sorcha felt a rising urge within her, a need to tell him what she’d come to understand.
It wasn’t his fault. He carried so much guilt, and she could see it etched into every line of his face, in the way he held himself.
She didn’t need saving. She needed someone who saw the fire in her soul and chose to burn beside her, Kyron had chosen just that.
The pain of everything they’d endured wouldn’t fade overnight; she knew that.
It might not even fade in years. Perhaps it would always linger, a dull ache in the background of their lives.
But what she was certain he needed to hear that none of it was his fault. And none of it was hers, either.
She leaned forward slightly, her voice quiet. “Kyron,” she began, her tone steady despite the storm raging inside her. “You made me a promise. We’ll stop Vaelric, together.”
For a moment, Kyron didn’t speak, his gaze fixed on hers.
Slowly, his posture shifted shoulders straightening just enough to lift the weight that had been pressing him down for so long.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough. His eyes, heavy with grief held hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a flicker of something else: hope. Or perhaps determination.
He nodded. “Together.”
It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough.
Enough to remind her that they weren’t alone in this fight. Enough to give her a sliver of strength to hold on to. They had no guarantees, no easy path forward, but they had each other and for now, that was enough.