The young boy shivered as the screams slowly gave way to the roaring flames. His hands clung to the top of his head, trying to drown out the sounds, trying to make things go back to the way they were before. All he wanted was his family.

Despite the fire roaring in the distance, he still shivered in the cold. Snow had worked its way into his short boots, and he couldn't feel his toes anymore. He remembered what his father had said. He needed to be strong. He needed to protect his mother. But where was she now? Tears pricked his eyes as he remembered her running from him, away from safety. She'd followed his father into the glaring red.

But they would come back. They had to. They wouldn't leave him. Not like this.

He looked up, but only darkness met his eyes. He'd hidden in a tree, felled long ago by disease or old age, hollowed out by time and various vermin. But right now, the log was frozen in the bitter winter chill of the north. Turning to his right, he saw the white snow beyond the entrance, and the orange light dancing around, like little floppy dolls in a ballet.

A loud boom sounded in the distance, and he huddled closer to the wall of the tree. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't leave. His mother had told him to stay safe. And nowhere outside the tree was safe.

He stayed there, shivering, muscles tight, until morning came. He grew numb as the fires died down and the cold fully overtook him. Although he dozed once or twice, he grew alert when the sun began to glint off the snow. He stayed quiet and listened; nothing stirred.

Was it over?

Crawling to the end of the log, he peeked out but saw no movement. Slowly, he stood, his little feet crunching the snow. He turned to the right, saw the footprints leading away, and followed them. He didn't know where else to go.

As he made it over the hill, he stopped, and his bottom lip pouted as his eyes welled with tears. He knew that this was where his village was, but it didn't look like it anymore. Where there had been big buildings, homes, the church, the markets, there were now only blackened frames, a ghost of what was. He stumbled down the path, feeling as empty as the town looked, until he walked past the nearest building.

He recognized it, faintly. A little girl had lived here, one of his friends. They had played together only a few days ago. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Moving forward, he tried to understand what had happened. But nothing made sense. Where were his parents?

"Mommy?" he called into the void. His voice sounded impossibly small. He took a few more steps forward. "Daddy?"

He could see their faces, but they weren't with him. But they would come back. They wouldn't leave.

Putting one foot in front of the other, he made his way to the center of town, wiping his face and nose again. The church was a heap of ashes, and only fragments of its stained glass lay scattered across the square. The little boy walked closer and saw the familiar shapes of the demon and the angel, perpetually at war.

Was this destruction the work of the demon? If so, where had the angel been? Why hadn't it protected them?

Turning left, he walked down the main road. The path was wider here. The stillness of the small town settled over him like a suffocating blanket, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He began to sob and ran forward.

Between breaths, he screamed, "Mommy! Daddy!" He cried out as long as he could until his foot caught on something, sending him tumbling to the ground. He lay there for several minutes, crying, wishing for the pain to stop. Not the pain in his arm, not the scratches from his fall, but the unknown, unfamiliar, piercing pain that filled his heart. Whatever it was, he wanted none of it.

But no matter how many times he called for his mother, she didn't come. She didn't wrap him up in her arms and kiss his wounds. She didn't come and take the pain away.

When the wound to his soul finally dimmed to a dull throb, he pushed slowly off the ground, lifting himself to his knees. Was it worth trying one more time, he wondered? Weakly, he called out to them: "Mommy... Daddy..."

But no one came.

A glint of red light caught his attention, and for a moment, he feared that the fire had come back to take him, too. For a moment, he wanted it to. But the light didn't come from a fire. He looked down and saw the glint again through the rubble. Crawling forward, he lifted some rocks and boards away, revealing a red gem. He recognized it and snatched it up. Holding it tightly, he watched the red glow slowly fade until the gem was clear and colorless in his hands, reflecting the sunlight overhead.

He looked up at the sky, so peaceful and ignorant of the massacre surrounding him. And he realized: his parents weren't coming back after all.

"Dart," whispered Rose as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He said nothing but shook his head, clinging to the lifeless body draped across his lap.

"Dart, you have to let go," she said.

Shana and Albert cried quietly to the side, although Shana was now running healing hands over the worst of the king's wounds. Haschel stood solemnly by the stairs.

"I can't," Dart choked.

"He isn't here anymore."

"I don't care!"

"We can't stay here. There are guards downstairs, and he needs to be buried."

Slowly, Dart lifted his head. He could no longer bring himself to look at Lavitz's face, and instead he focused on the void where Lloyd had stood minutes before. Then before he could stop it, a seething rage mounted in his heart.

Setting Lavitz's body down, he jumped to his feet and rushed to the edge of the tower, holding a pillar as he looked over the edge. There was no body in sight, but the distant earth made his legs feel shaky, and he backed away.

"Lloyd!" he screamed at the horizon.

With this one word, the bottle uncorked, and his wrath spilled out of him as he fell to his knees. He roared in his pain and anger, and a wave of fire rushed out, only to be extinguished by the wind. Once his lungs had emptied, he fell forward onto his palms, and grief tried to overtake him again.

"Your Majesty," said Rose behind him, and he turned to see her holding Lavitz's dragoon spirit. King Albert looked up at her, bleary-eyed.

"What are you doing?" asked Dart, jumping up.

"It has chosen its successor," she said simply, casting him an irritated glance as she held the dragoon spirit out toward the king.

"What?" breathed King Albert in confusion.

"You can't just give it away like that," insisted Dart.

"Dart," interrupted Shana. "In the dragon's nest—"

"I don't care!" he shouted. "That belongs to Lavitz!"

Shana stood and eased toward him, holding out her hands. "Lavitz is gone," she said as her voice cracked. "He would want this."

"Shana is right," affirmed Rose.

Dart turned angry eyes on King Albert, and the king shirked away.

"Fine," spat Dart. "I have something I need to do, anyway."

Then he marched over and charged down the stairs.

The next thirty minutes were filled with slaughter. Dart systematically cleared each prison floor of wardens, and Dart exercised every bit of magic that he could imagine as he did so. He seared their skin with a hot touch, he burned their clothes with fire, and he gutted them with a burning blade. In the end, tears streaming, he trudged back up the stairs to the others.

Without a word, he gathered up Lavitz's body, armor and all, and carried him downstairs and outside. With a stony expression, he took the shovel that Haschel had procured from the prison and dug a six-foot hole. When the others gathered around him, he ignored them. Then with Haschel's and King Albert's help, he lowered the body into the grave.

A feeling of numbness came over Dart as he replaced the dirt. Then he stood aside, covered in blood and earth, and waited.

The king, already visibly recovering from his wounds, stood before them with sorrow in his eyes. For several minutes, nothing was said. The morning breeze rustled the trees. Birds chirped the songs of a new day. Dart stared fixedly at the ground, and Shana reached out and took his hand. He neither resisted nor encouraged. Her fingers entwined with his, and he did nothing.

At last, King Albert spoke.

"In this solemn affair, we grieve. With the survivors, we mourn. In the face of death, we unify. As service demands, we fulfill."

Dart recognized the words. Lavitz had spoken them two days ago.

Two days ago.

He glanced around. Shana stood beside him, and Rose a few feet away on the left. Haschel was across the mound of earth, and King Albert on his right. Despite the number of them, he couldn't help but feel an immense void.

What was this feeling? This feeling of despair tore at him, and yet, he knew that he'd felt it before. But this time, it was so much heavier. He thought that if only he took a moment to breathe, that he would collapse under its weight and never be able to move again.

"I'm sorry," whispered the king. "There is no one who can replace you, my friend."

Then he knelt, picked up some of the dirt, and ruffled it between his fingers. As it fell back onto the pile, he added, "May your soul find peace among the lilies and joy among the streams."

Rose sniffed, and Dart wondered if he'd imagined the tear on her cheek.

A horse whinnied nearby, and Dart closed his eyes to recall the last time he'd been here. He'd torn into these very trees to retrieve his steed so that he and Shana and Lavitz could escape. Lavitz had been so strong, so resilient in the face of what he'd suffered in Hellena Prison. And yet, his scars had never really healed.

Turning his eyes up, he watched the outline of the leaves dangling above him as the morning sun highlighted them with tiny little halos.

After a moment of silence, Dart shook his head. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wrenched his hand from Shana's and turned away to head back toward the horses, not daring to cast his eyes one more time to the lumpy grave. He heard someone call out after him, but he ignored it and kept walking. As he reached his horse, he swung onto him with one swift movement, urging the beast to the edge of the woods. Lavitz's horse followed him, but Dart could not bring himself to look at her.

What was her name? He tried to remember, combing over the memories, and sighed in frustration as nothing resurfaced. He stopped at the edge of the trees.

"Dart!" someone called. He didn't turn.

"Dart, you have to wait for us," said Haschel, jogging up beside him.

"Do I look like I'm moving?"

"It's hard to know that you've stopped when you just run off like that!"

"Then get everyone ready. We need to leave." Dart's eyes remained focused on the glint of the ocean far to the east, and the bright reflection of the sun off the water.

"And go where? We need to talk about this."

"Fine!" shouted Dart before hurriedly dismounting. Then rounding on Haschel, he said, "What are you waiting for? Call a meeting, O wise one." He gave a mocking bow, then sat on the edge of the road, legs crossed, staring off into the distance.

"Dart—" began Haschel.

"Save it," he retorted, cutting him off. He heard Haschel shifting uncomfortably behind him before turning and walking back into the woods.

Deep within, Dart knew that he was being cruel. He wasn't upset with Haschel, but he didn't care. Rage felt better than grief.

Several minutes later, everyone emerged from the trees and gathered near him. Shana and Haschel sat down on the hard earth, but Rose and King Albert stood. Dart felt a twinge of pleasure to see the king limp slightly as he walked. He wore leather armor and a green cloak, and Dart scowled at the color. He knew that somewhere in the king's pocket was Lavitz's dragoon spirit, lending its strength to him as if Lavitz had never existed. Despite his limp, color had returned to his cheeks, and his shoulders were higher than before. Dart shook his head.

Shana cast many a worried glance toward Dart, but he didn't meet her gaze. She sniffed several times, and the sound grated on his nerves.

"As I am sure you are all aware," began Albert with excessive pomp. Dart held back a snort. "We cannot linger here much longer. Hellena has fallen, but we have no way of knowing if a messenger escaped to request military support from Kazas. Our next step is to determine just where we will go."

He let the serious statement hang over them for a moment. Rose sat.

Then he continued, "This has been a costly day, and I give my condolences to each of you. I understand that Lavitz was one of your close friends. I... I, too, feel the pain of his passing. He was my most loyal knight, but more than this, he was my friend. I must express the deep gratitude I have toward each of you for giving of yourself, both to this country and to him. Never has a man been more deserving of loyal friends like you."

Feeling the king's eyes boring into him, Dart dropped his gaze and picked blades of grass, ripping them to calm the swell of emotions.

"It's my fault," said Rose quietly, and all eyes turned to her. "I should have stopped him. I almost did. But after his display at the barricade—" she gestured into the distance, where the remains of the wooden structure were just barely visible "—I decided that he would be fine on his own. It was too late when I recognized that Lloyd had the Dragon Buster."

"The what?" asked Haschel.

"The Dragon Buster," she repeated. "Creative name, I know, but the name didn't translate well. It's a weapon, apparently lingering from the Dragon Campaign, that was created to kill both dragons and dragoons. Its magic is unparalleled. Even dragoon armor is a mere shroud in front of the Dragon Buster. If I had known..." She stopped and turned to Dart, her eyes piercing him like knives. "I'm sorry."

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"We cannot sit around and blame ourselves for Lavitz's death," said Albert. "To ensure that it was not in vain, we must instead move forward."

With a meaningful glance at Dart, Shana said, "He wouldn't want us to sit and do nothing."

Abruptly, Dart stood and said, "Then let's do something. He wanted to end the war, so let's do it. We make for the Black Castle."

A stir rustled over the group. Dark tales of the Black Castle, the seat of Doel's empire, had been spun throughout Basil, and no one was too eager to jump at the opportunity to go there.

"And do what?" asked Albert.

"Kill Doel." Obviously, Dart thought. "That would end the war, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes," fumbled Albert. "There would be no one scheming for the throne, but—"

"But what? The good king is too noble to sneak into somewhere he doesn't belong?"

"Dart!" scolded Shana, but he ignored her, keeping his eyes trained on the king.

"Dart, it's not that," interrupted Haschel, standing and easing forward. "You're talking about assassination. Killing a reigning monarch."

"Doel is just a man," Dart retorted. "And he sent his lackey to kill Albert here, so I don't see the difference. He got Lavitz instead, so I say we repay the favor."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Doel heard rumors about a group of travelers entering Lohan from the east, right after the dragon was killed. So, he sent in Lloyd to scope us out. That's why he entered the tournament, and that's why he was so interested in me. Then after we left, he was sent to Hellena to kill the king, and Lavitz just got in the way."

"That does seem to be the most plausible explanation," said King Albert.

"See?" said Dart.

"But," continued the king, "He was not just there to kill me."

"The stone," said Shana, and Dart remembered the glowing object in Lloyd's hand.

Albert nodded. "The Moon Gem is its name. It holds a strange magic power, and it marks the true king of Serdio. It is said that it was a relic from the Dragon Campaign, an artifact of the ancient winglies. For generations, it has been sealed inside the body of each monarch, until it was taken just this morning."

"How does that even work?" asked Haschel.

"They say that the winglies' magic still clings to the object," explained the king. "On the day of my coronation, Servi and Noish explained its significance to me, and when they held it out, it glowed and seemed to enter me willingly. It has never left until this day."

"How did Lloyd know about it?" asked Rose.

"He was… one of my advisors. I regret it now, but I hired him a year or so ago so that he could help me navigate the escalating rumors of war. When Lavitz told me that Sandora was seeking the Moon Gem, I informed my advisors – the heads of knighthoods and Lloyd – so that we could be better prepared to protect it. I see now how foolish this was… And I wish… it had not been so. Clearly, he has been playing both sides for some time."

Dart shook his head. The king was more responsible for Lavitz's death than he had supposed.

"Makes sense," said Rose. "Doel wants the Moon Gem to stake a real claim to the throne, and he used Lloyd to find out where it was."

"Yes."

"But Lavitz got in the way of killing you," said Haschel. "Even if a messenger didn't get away, Lloyd did. Doel will send an army to get his hands on you. You're the only thing stopping him from being king."

"Exactly, which is why we must leave soon," said Albert. "Our enemy is, as of yet, unaware of our movements. Because of this, we have a fighting chance to get to Kazas, and possibly into the Black Castle, if that is what you truly wish to do."

Stepping forward, Dart said forcefully, "I do. No need to wait around here."

"Is everyone in agreement?" asked King Albert.

Rose, Haschel, and Shana nodded.

"Very well. Our target is Emperor Doel, in the Black Castle. We should leave soon and take a roundabout path. Otherwise, we will be sure to encounter enemy troops aiming to reinforce the prison."

Turning away from the open road, they hurried back to their steeds, and in just a few minutes, they were heading out. As much as Dart hated being here, leaving the grave felt like leaving a part of himself behind. Despite all his efforts, he could not expel his memories of Lavitz from his mind, and they constantly plagued him as he jostled with the trot of the horse beneath him.

What would you do without me? he'd said. That white smile and blonde hair flashed before Dart's eyes, and he sniffed, trying to smother the emotions. He wasn't sure what to do without Lavitz. Somehow, the world seemed darker, colder even. It was as if the fire inside him had been extinguished, and a cold frost crept through his soul.

As they passed through the wreckage of the barricade, Dart held his breath, staring ahead blankly. He couldn't bring himself to look at it. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore it, but instead the image of Lavitz's wrath filled his mind. As they entered the rocky passage, Dart glanced to his left and spied Shana's arrow that had shattered against the hard stone. It was beyond repair, shaft splintered and head fragmented.

"Dart," said a voice, and he jumped.

He turned to see King Albert riding up close to him on Lavitz's horse. His heart twisted into a knot when he saw the lance at Albert's back, the very same lance that Lavitz had wielded. Rose had been the one to remove it from Fruegel's body, and then insisted that the king use it until he could find another. It made a sort of sense, but it felt horribly wrong, insensitive, deceptive. Just like the horse. Just like the dragoon spirit. It was as if Albert thought that he could replace Lavitz with no trouble, no loss or remorse. Was this king the man who had fought with his people in Hoax? Was this king the one who'd slain Greham? Assisted in the battle with the dragon? What was this king, but someone who holed himself up in his castle, keeping safe and warm while his people, his good knights, were slaughtered throughout his kingdom?

"Your Majesty," he returned.

"Allow me to begin by offering my sympathy."

Dart quirked an eyebrow.

"First, I understand that Lavitz meant a great deal to you, and I know that his death comes at a terrible price. I also understand my role in it, however limited one may argue it to be, and for this, I am deeply regretful and sorry."

Glaring ahead of him, Dart felt an almost overwhelming desire to reach over and land his fist forcefully on the king's perfect jawline, but he remained still.

Albert continued, "But I also would like to express my thanks. Lavitz made your friendship very clear to me, even all that time ago in Bale. He has been a friend to many, but being yours appeared to have been the highlight of his life. You gave him great joy, even in the dark times of the Serdian War. For this, I will always be grateful to you."

The king paused, waiting for some kind of response. Mulling over the words, Dart once again felt the cold chill creep over his heart, and he feared that answering would only make him weep before a monarch. His fists tightened around the reins until his knuckles were white and his fingernails dug into his palms.

The highlight of his life. And what was the point of it all? Lavitz was dead.

When Dart did not answer him, King Albert slowed, allowing Dart to pull ahead.

They emerged from the mountain passage into the grasslands and picked up the pace as they turned north toward the woods. This was the same path they had traveled just last night with Lavitz.

Albert slowed as they came upon the scattered Sandora bodies that had tried to capture them the night before.

"What happened here?" he asked wildly.

"Guards were tracking us," replied Dart flatly. "So, we killed them. Let's go."

And with that, he charged into the forest. They had only traveled a short distance when Haschel called out from near the back of line.

"Hey, I know you guys are all super-powered and everything, but we barely slept last night. I would love a rest before we charge into enemy territory again. Even if it is horrendously sunny."

"He has a point," said Rose, and Dart faintly remembered that she hadn't slept at all.

Rolling his eyes, Dart stopped and dismounted before saying, "We'll stop for four hours. You guys get some sleep, and I'll take watch."

As they made camp, Shana approached him cautiously, but he did not turn to look at her. Placing a hand on his arm, she spoke softly.

"Dart... I'm sorry."

"Thanks, but I'm fine." He studiously watched as the camp was set up, avoiding her gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know... I know it hurts, but—"

"I said I'm fine," he snapped.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she quickly turned from him. Regret sprang into his heart, and he called after her, but she did not turn back. Sighing heavily, he turned to sit next to a tree, but Rose appeared beside him.

"Come with me," she said before plunging into the forest.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it," she called back threateningly.

He glanced back at the camp; all eyes were trained on him. Awkwardly, he turned and followed Rose. They traveled for several minutes until they were well out of earshot of the others. Stepping over brush and bending under branches, Dart got the unnerving feeling that Rose was taking him away to kill him. But his thoughts were interrupted when she stopped abruptly and turned to face him, her hair whipping about and her eyes wild with anger.

"You need to pull yourself together," she said menacingly.

"What are you talking about?"

"People die, Dart. They die, and they don't come back. I know it was sudden, and I know it was recent, but there are bigger things at stake."

"Recent?" he said, voice climbing in anger. "You make it sound like it was a couple weeks ago! It was hours, Rose. Lavitz died this morning, and you expect me to be all happy and bouncy as if nothing happened? He was my best friend." His voice caught in his throat, and he stopped.

Her eyes pierced him. "You're not the only one here that's hurting. You're not the only one mourning Lavitz's death. With him gone, they need a leader, and I don't think anyone wants the king telling us what to do right now, even the king himself. That burden falls to you, and you're doing a terrible job of it."

"I'm not a leader of anything."

"That's where you're wrong. Even Lavitz looked to you for guidance."

"Don't be silly," he scoffed.

"You're a selfish fool," she snapped at him, shaking her head. "Open your eyes. Everyone lost a friend today. Shana needs you, Dart. How can you not see that? And yet, she's doing all she can to help you through this, because she loves you."

"You don't think I care about her?" he demanded, voice rising once again.

"If I hadn't been around you for longer than four hours, I never would have known."

The words slapped him almost breathless. His rage flared in response, and he yelled, "You have no idea what I've been going through today!"

Instead of snapping back at him, she narrowed her eyes, shook her head slightly, and said, "I know exactly what you're going through."

The truth behind her eyes diffused his anger, and he took two slow breaths.

"I don't know how to be a leader," he said quietly.

"You're a natural leader. I saw how you led the men in the Battle of Hoax, and how you helped Lavitz in the Seventh Fort. When you're not being stupid, you're leading. Except for our charge through the prison, you've been leading this group since it came together."

"Why are you trying to help me?" he asked suddenly.

"You're unbearably annoying when you're unstable," she said simply.

He rolled his eyes and turned to pace around the trees. "I'm the one who's unstable?"

She shrugged. "You always have been. Anytime something goes wrong, you collapse under the pressure."

"You call me a leader, and then you say that?"

"Even leaders have bad days."

"Why don't you make any sense, ever? It's like you go out of your way to confuse us all the time."

"I've done no such thing. I've always been straightforward with you."

"Oh, yeah?" he said, rounding on her. "Straightforward? Okay..." He began counting on his fingers. "Where are you from? Where did you get your dragoon spirit? Why were you tracking a dragon? Why are you traveling with us? Why do you simultaneously seem to care about us and hate us? Why is your past such a dark, hidden, mysterious thing? Why-"

Cutting him off, she said, "What are you so angry at?"

"Me?" he laughed. "Look at you, Miss Upset-all-the-time. You look like you're about to saw me in half." It was true; the rage in her eyes would have frightened him on any other day.

"Stop deflecting. Why are you angry?"

"I'm not—"

"Why are you angry?" she said forcefully.

He stopped. Turning away to study the leaves on the forest floor, he said, "You know why."

"Because Lavitz died? No, that's why you're grieving."

He said nothing, and Rose waited. A moment later, she repeated slowly, "Why are you angry?"

"Because he shouldn't have died!" The words escaped him in a frenzy of emotion, tears beading up in his eyes before cascading down to meet the moss beneath his feet. "We shouldn't have gone to this prison, and that stupid king shouldn't have gotten himself captured. If he had just been doing what he was supposed to, none of this would have happened, and Lavitz would still be alive!"

"Oh, the king?" she mocked, arms folded over her chest. "You're upset with a king who was doing his duty to protect his people? You're mad that he did what he judged to be right, and that Lavitz, who was doing the same thing, was killed because of random circumstance and his own decisions?"

He sighed dramatically. He wanted to break something. The king's neck crossed his mind. A trickle of fire ran across his hand.

"You're misdirecting your anger, Dart. You're not angry with King Albert. You're angry with yourself."

"And why would I be mad at myself?"

"Because you didn't stop it. Because you let Lavitz go charging into Hellena. Because on that roof, you stood by while Lavitz transformed to attack Lloyd. You're only angry at the king because you feel that he's trying to replace Lavitz. And of course, he isn't. He's merely trying to make the most of a bleak situation, just like all of us."

Dart wiped his face and blinked back more tears as they pressed into his eyes.

After a deep breath, he muttered, "I can't lead this group."

"Fine," Rose stated flatly. "Then let the king lead this mission. But after Doel is dead, you're going to have to decide just how much responsibility you want to throw away."

"At least Lavitz isn't here to talk me out of it," he said sourly.

"Why do you think I'm doing this?"

He turned to look at her. There it was again, that hint of sadness behind her eyes, buried beneath layers of stiff armor. Sniffing again, he turned to head back to camp. "Thanks," he muttered.

"It's okay to be sad, Dart," she called behind him. "And it's okay to be angry. Just don't take it out on them."

After a pause, he nodded slightly and pressed forward while Rose lingered behind. He enjoyed his solitary trek through the trees, listening to the birds chirping and the light breeze rustling the leaves. He savored the sound of his feet pushing into the soft earth and the feeling of his fingers running over rough tree bark. For just a few minutes, he was able to pretend that he was back on his journey to hunt the Black Monster, living on his own without care. Before Lavitz.

As he twisted through the trees, he came suddenly to the camp. Haschel's head snapped up, alert to any danger, and Dart held up his hands innocently.

"Just me," he said.

Glancing around, he saw that Shana and King Albert were already asleep, although the wetness lingering on Shana's face did not escape his attention. She had been crying. Feeling a wave of guilt, he sat down near Haschel quietly.

"Everything alright?" asked Haschel, eyeing him for a reaction.

"Not really, but... yeah. I'll survive."

"Is Rose coming back?"

"Probably, but I wouldn't be surprised if it took her a while."

"That bad, huh?"

Dart looked down at his feet, hugging his knees. "It was my fault."

"Rose has always been a hard woman, so I doubt that's entirely true."

Laughing drily, Dart said, "No, it really is. I was being pretty awful."

"Given the circumstances, nobody can blame you."

But you should, he thought. Rose was right; he had been acting rudely to everyone, especially King Albert. He glanced over and saw him sleeping, his body rising and falling with his slow breaths. Dart wasn't sure he would ever come to like the man, but at least he could try to be a little kinder. After all, Lavitz had given his life for King Albert. There must have been a reason. Then he saw the lance lying next to him – Lavitz's lance – and his chest tightened again.

"Hey," said Haschel, nudging him slightly. "If you need anything... you have friends around you."

"Yeah." But not all of them. "You go get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Obviously exhausted, Haschel quickly agreed and sidled over to his bedroll to sleep. Just a few minutes later, Dart was listening to his soft snores. Leaning his head back against the tree, Dart tried not to think about everything Rose had said, but his mind kept going back.

Lavitz's death hung over him like a stubborn headache. No matter how much he willed it to go away, it stayed, butting up against his mind relentlessly. Even when he managed to focus on other things for a few seconds, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing.

He gasped in sudden fright as something touched the side of his head, and he turned to see Lavitz's horse nudging him gently with her nose. Willing his heart to calm, he stood and patted her face. Her great eyes stared at him wistfully, asking the great question: When is he coming back?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "He's not coming back." His lip quivered as he spoke, and he bent down and placed his forehead on hers. She did not draw back but pressed into him, accepting his grief. He couldn't escape it now; he felt tears slide out of his closed eyes, dropping onto the horse's tawny hair. He cried quietly as several minutes passed, but the horse did not move. He felt that she was mourning with him, as if she understood the relationship that Dart had had with their fallen companion. Then wiping his eyes once more, he smiled weakly at her before reaching into the pack attached to her saddle and retrieving an apple. Lavitz had bought several in Lohan just to give her along the road.

"Here, girl," he said as she snatched it out of his hand, crunching loudly into the fruit. "Now go on," he said, pushing her away. "Go back to your friends." She obeyed and trotted over to where the other horses grazed, snorting and tossing her mane as she did so. And yet, when she arrived, she turned her head back to watch him wistfully.

He sat again, holding his head in his hands as a pulsing headache crept into place, either from stifling tears or his lack of sleep. Either way, he was grateful for the three hours ahead of him to stay the redness of his eyes before the others woke. Then he wished that he could be the one to sleep, so that maybe when he woke, the pain would be gone. Maybe this was all just a horrid nightmare, and tomorrow morning, he would see Lavitz smiling brightly as he fidgeted with the wind.

But who was he kidding? It was as Rose had said. Lavitz was dead, and he was not coming back.