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"Your Majesty," the words come confident, only a fraction of a pause betraying Corvus's hesitation, "... what do you want us to do when we find them?"
Soren's fingers curl into his palm. He keeps his head down, hides the thoughts laid bare on his face when King Ezran responds.
Soren's opinion doesn't matter. He swore an oath.
His teeth creak as he fights the urge to protest.
Soren bows.
His legs are wooden, and he has to force them to march to the door, out into the sun, where the light breeze lifts dust onto his boots. He stops, staring at the bridge they'll need to cross.
His lip runs under his teeth as he stamps down the fear worming its way into his head.
He jolts, his teeth cutting in as Corvus's hand comes to rest on his shoulder.
"It won't come to that," Corvus says.
"I know." Soren's voice is weak. And that's fine if it means no one else hears him. "Even if it does... I can't do that. I know I can't..."
Soren glances back at the lodge. He wonders if he'll ever be coming back. If Callum resists-
Corvus pushes him with a palm flat against his back. "Let's go."
Soren follows him, keeps his eyes on Corvus's back. It's easier to follow than to make sense of his churning thoughts. Even if he's following down a path to hell.
He tastes blood.
It takes them two days to walk there.
Soren wonders if they've moved on again, to a second, untrackable location. He prays for it.
They find traces they were here. Footprints - the dragging gait of the injured elf, disturbed leaves, snapped twigs. And the trace ends abruptly.
Soren sits on the forest floor and watches Corvus peer at the trees around them.
Corvus says, "I think it's magic.”
A glimmer of glimmer of hope lifts Soren's spirit, and then it's crushed, crumbling to pieces as Callum appears out of nowhere. Rayla stands behind him, her hand ready on her weapon.
Two tall elves follow them out of the empty space in the forest. One of them is the prisoner. Their eyes are narrowed, but they carry themselves with a quiet confidence - they don't see Soren and Corvus as a threat.
Soren stands. Shame makes his legs soft like butter, and he sticks his hand out on the rough bark of a tree, grounding himself.
He can't look away, now that he sees him. Can't open his mouth to speak, even as Callum looks at him expectantly.
"What are you doing here?" Callum asks when neither of them speak.
Soren's throat closes.
"We were ordered to bring you back," Corvus takes the lead again. All Soren has to do is follow.
Hurt flickers over Callum's face. He glances at Soren, a minute thing, and it burns in the fraction of a second his gaze is on him.
He looks back at Corvus, raises an eyebrow, "Are you going to try?"
"Yes," Corvus says plainly. "Will you come?"
Conflict crosses Callum's face. His hand moves behind him, shielding Rayla or... reaching for reassurance.
"I'll come alone," Callum says. And it's a concession. He doesn't want to. And Soren can't blame him. "But that's not what he wants, is it?"
Corvus looks at Soren, and he feels pinned. King Ezran will send them out again, once Callum is home. He won't be satisfied without the elf. But he would rather have Callum than nothing.
He'll punish Callum, somehow. Angry as he is.
Soren doesn't want to bring him home.
He shakes his head.
Callum's eyes lock on his, and Soren still can't look away, even as it sears guilt onto his skin, eating away his flesh like a brand.
Callum's lips soften, slight, unnoticeable except that Soren's been staring, memorising every line of his face. Preserving it.
"Then I won't go," Callum tells Corvus.
Corvus lays a hand on his weapon, and Callum's eyes flash.
Soren's sword sits useless in its scabbard.
"Come again when he's changed his mind?" Callum asks of them. He takes a step back, and Soren's heart speeds up. His vision flickers, straining to take in all it can. He'll forget. He knows he'll forget.
"Goodbye," Callum says.
Corvus lurches forward, for the elf or Callum, Soren doesn't know. But they're already gone. Soren stares at the space they occupied, at the afterimage imprinted on his eyes. It fades too soon.
He closes his eyes, chasing it, but there's nothing left.
He flinches when Corvus touches him, opens his eyes, and immediately looks away. He's exposed. Naked under Corvus's skilled eye.
He knows.
"Let's make camp," Corvus says.
It's easy to go through the motions, set his numb hands to work and ignore thinking about everything else.
The soup Corvus makes is warm and flavourless. And Soren drinks it, even as his stomach hurts.
Corvus is quiet until the stars are out and they should be asleep.
"How long?"
Soren swallows.
A lump sits heavy in his throat. Like he's still eating the soup.
The stars are distant above. So far away their light barely reaches them. It would be dark without the fire.
"Forever."
Corvus's tongue clicks against his teeth.
Soren watches the stars move across the sky. They're pretty, even from down here. He supposes they’d be blinding if he were too close.
"You can be the mother, and I'll be the father," Soren says.
"Okay," Callum's grin is toothy. The front tooth knocked out yesterday in an epic game of chase and escape.
Elves seize the town, and Soren falls in battle, stoic despite the pain. In his dying breaths Callum lands on his knees beside him, presses his hands to the mortal wound.
"No, you're supposed to leave," Soren corrects him.
"But you're the father," Callum pouts.
"And you're the mother," Soren says, spells out the obvious for him: "You always leave."
Callum's lips part in a soft O.
"But who's going to save you?" he whispers.
"No one," Soren says. He frowns, "... Sometimes soldiers don't come home."
"That's not fair!" Callum says. He sits back on his heels, abandoning Soren's wound. The ground starts to rumble. The army must be coming home.
Callum's head whips up and he scrambles to his feet, standing on tip-toes.
"They're still far away," Soren tells him, turning his cheek to the ground to listen.
Callum chews at his lip and looks down at Soren. Soren watches him, eyes wide. His chest feels fluttery, like when he's nervous.
Callum drops back to crouch at Soren's side. "They're reinforcements!" he declares, pressing his hands on the wound anew. "They're going to save you."
Soren wraps his fingers gently around Callum's wrist, pushing him away. "Okay," he agrees, "But you're not supposed to be here."
Callum frowns, "But mothers love fathers, right? Shouldn't I try to help? Call for aid or something..." he trails off, wringing his hands together.
He... Maybe. But Soren doesn't want Callum to shout. He likes how quiet Callum is. Well, he's chatty, but he always speaks softly.
Soren sits up. "Let's play another game."
"Why can't we finish this one?"
"You don't want to play it properly," Soren crosses his arms. Claudia does it right. But she says she doesn't like playing anymore.
Callum pulls a face. "Why can't we do it my way?"
Soren pictures it: letting Callum rescue him from near-death. Staying, after the soldiers come. Nursing him back to health.
It makes Soren's lungs burn, something ugly rearing its head in his chest. "No. I don't want to."
Callum scowls and crosses his arms too. "Fine."
The rumbling is getting louder. Soren can feel it his butt, vibrating through the ground.
“I want to watch the soldiers,” Callum says, and he’s already taking off. Soren sighs. But he kind of wants to watch them too.
He stands with Callum and waits, listening to the noise get closer and closer, until they can distinguish the clangs of armour from the footfalls. Horses neigh somewhere in the fields closer to the city.
Callum's mum and auntie are talking to each other at the front of the rows and rows of soldiers.
"Mum!" Callum calls, waving his hand as high as he can.
They look up and smile, waving back. Callum beams, and Soren feels small standing beside him.
He turns away, heading back to the field they were playing in. He gets to the spot of flattened grass he was lying in, and the grass starts to crunch behind him as Callum follows. He wants to be alone, suddenly.
He’s faster than Callum. So, he starts running.
"Soren! Come back!" Callum chases him.
"Go away!" Soren yells and chokes back a sob. He doesn't want Callum to see him cry. He speeds up, heading for the forest. He can lose Callum in there.
Sticks and dead leaves crackle beneath his feet. He can't see where he's going, and he scrubs at his eyes, but it doesn't really help.
He trips, shrieks as he hits the ground hard. And he's slipping and there's nothing to hold on to, just dirt and sticks, and his heart is beating too hard, too fast. He locks his leg straight, digging his heel into the bank. He slows, slightly, before his ankle throbs and the bank isn't at his back anymore, it's in front of his face. He sticks his hands out just before he slams into it.
His nose brushes the ground, and he smells dirt and decay.
"Soren!"
He rolls onto his back.
Callum's at the top of the bank, holding onto a skinny tree as he starts to slide down the path Soren's scraped through the dead leaves.
His back is wet, and Soren sticks a hand under him. It comes back muddy, with a leaf attached. He grimaces.
"Soren!" Callum rushes to his side, "Are you okay?!"
"Yeah," Soren mumbles. He sits up, and Callum reaches out to brush leaves off him.
Soren lets him, staring at his lap. He feels stupid.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Callum asks softly, raising his hand to pick leaves out of Soren's hair.
"I'm okay," Soren says. His voice feels wobbly. The messy feeling in his tummy hasn't gone away. He scrubs at his face.
"I'm sorry," Callum says.
It doesn't make him feel better. He wasn't mad at Callum, not really.
Soren doesn't want to go home. But he wants to go somewhere private. Somewhere safer than the forest.
"Do you want to go home?" Callum asks.
Soren shakes his head.
"Then... do you want to keep playing?"
Soren presses his lips together. He glances at Callum, "Can we play my game?"
Callum nods, "Okay. Yeah."
Soren watches him a moment longer, expecting him to take it back, or try to change the rules again. But he doesn't.
Soren lies back down. "Okay. Then, I'm dying."
Callum nods. His eyes run down Soren's body, and he reaches out to touch Soren's knee. His gaze flicks up, and he meets Soren's eyes for a second before he pats Soren's knee and stands up.
"I'm leaving," he tells him. "The wound's too bad."
Soren wonders if he should say something. He doesn't want Callum to stop playing.
He wants to say something.
"Don't go," he groans.
Callum's eyes dart to his face again. A moment passes, and Soren's heart thuds, waiting for him to stop. He shouldn't have said anything.
And then Callum says, "I'm sorry, but I can't save you."
He takes a step back, and Soren curls onto his side, protecting his imaginary wound. "Wait," he begs.
Callum's quiet for a long moment.
"You're going to die. What should I wait for?"
Soren's breath catches in his chest.
Callum waits for Soren to take his turn.
His throat feels tight, but it feels good this time, instead of bad like before. He chases the feeling.
"But you're my wife."
"I'll find a new partner," Callum says, cold. He takes another step back. He's good at this game.
Soren revels in it.
"What about our children?"
Callum pauses, thinking. Soren holds his breath and waits for him.
"I'll have new ones," he takes another step.
"They'll be alone," Soren pleads.
"They can take care of themselves," Callum says.
Soren's heart pounds. "What if they can't?"
"Then, they'll follow you." Callum's eyes point to Soren's wound. It's a brutal thing to say. And perfectly tragic.
He turns away and keeps walking, taking slow, careful steps.
"But I'm not going to die," Soren tries, a last resort. A desperate hope.
Callum stops, but he doesn't turn back. "Does it matter?" he asks.
Soren doesn't say anything. He doesn't know.
Callum keeps walking, and Soren can't see him through the trees anymore. His chest is full and heavy. He rolls onto his back again, staring up at the healthy leaves high above them. Callum's still walking. He listens to his footsteps fade.
He's not sure how he feels, once he's alone.
Satisfied, maybe. Maybe a little sad. Callum's really good at this. He wants to play again with Callum. But not today.
Now he wants to do something different.
He sits up. His back still feels weird, and he reaches back to scrub the mud off his skin, then he tugs his shirt back down. It feels colder than it was.
He stands up and his ankle kind of hurts. He bends over, tugging his pant leg up to check under his boot. It looks fine. He starts walking in the direction Callum went. He wouldn't go far.
"Callum?" he calls.
Soren frowns. He's starting to get worried when he spots him. He's sitting with his back against a tree, digging a stick through the dirt.
"Watcha making?"
Callum looks up. He looks kind of sad too. "It's a bird."
Soren tilts his head, stepping ‘round to Callum's perspective. "I don't see it."
Callum glares at him and chucks the stick he was drawing with. Callum didn't want to play that game, Soren remembers. Even though he's good at it.
"Thanks," Soren says. "I liked that."
Callum looks up at him. His lip sticks out a little. "It felt mean."
"It's... meant to be," Soren says. "I can be the mother, next time. If you want..."
Callum draws his knees up, hugging them to his chest. "I don't want you to be mean to me."
Maybe Callum won't want to play with him again. Like Claudia.
"Then you can stay the mother, I don't mind." Soren prefers being the father.
Callum sends him a funny look. "Why do you like that game?"
"It's fun," Soren says. Obviously.
"...Do you like it when I'm mean?"
"No..." he doesn't. He just... likes that specific scenario. It’s not really Callum. It’s just pretend. "Is it weird?"
Callum looks away. "Kinda..."
The bad tightness returns to Soren's chest. He nibbles at his lip.
Callum looks up at him. "But it's okay... we can play it... just, don't get mad? I don't want to hurt your feelings..."
Soren hugs him. "Thank you!" He pulls back just as quickly, cheeks reddening. "I don't want to play again today, but, uh... You did it really well. Better than Claudia."
Callum smiles.
"Do you want to play something else?"
Callum gets up, "Yeah."
They return to the field. And Soren's ankle is a little sore, but it's fine.
He suggests they play scavenger. So, they both take off through the grass, looking for a flower to bring back to the base.
Soren gets back first, so he stands in place as Callum runs around looking for different things to stack on Soren's head.
Soren snorts when Callum ends up putting a leaf back in his hair. Callum freezes, eyeing him. But Soren hasn't dislodged them, so he's still winning.
Callum sticks out his tongue and looks for something else unique. He's only put four things on Soren's head. And he needs ten to swap out with Soren.
The wind picks up and Callum's face falls as it blows away everything in Soren's hair. Soren frowns, turning to glare at the wind. The clouds are moving really fast in the sky, and Soren watches, fascinated, as a huge black cloud comes closer and closer.
The sky is still blue and white where they are. He thinks the clouds look funny side-by-side with the black one.
Callum's hand brushes his as he comes to stand beside him. "That looks pretty."
"Yeah..." Soren says, and then the big cloud blocks out the sun, and it's dark and cold.
"There's gonna be a storm," he realises, and takes Callum's hand. "Come on!"
He sprints through the fields. Katolis is ages away.
It starts to rain, and they're panting but they've still got heaps of fields to go. The sky lights up purple and Soren rocks to a halt, startled. Callum's hand tightens in his.
Soren's jaw rattles as the sky booms. "Come on," he says weakly, and starts running again.
The rain gets heavier, plastering Soren's hair to his face. The air is white, and he slips as the ground turns to mud. Callum squeaks as he falls with him.
Soren's breath hisses out through his teeth. His eyes burn, and he whines, drawing his ankle up to his chest. It pulses in time with his ragged breaths.
"Soren?" He's squeezed his eyes shut, and he pries them open. Callum's hair is hanging around his ears in dripping sheets. He's pale.
Soren grits his teeth, rising to his hands and knees.
The sky flashes again, and Soren pauses, waiting for the thunder to rocket across the valley, bouncing off the hills.
Callum helps him stand. He takes a step and his ankle protests - he can't run anymore. He squints through the rain. He can't see the city houses. Or the tall walls of the castle. Or anything.
A shiver rocks through his body. Callum clutches at Soren. Their shirts are turning see-through. Thunder vibrates through his teeth and his heart stutters. He staggers forward, pulling Callum with him.
"I'm scared!" Callum shouts over the rain.
Soren's scared too. He's limping and he doesn't know where they should go. Callum's grip on him hurts as thunder rumbles again.
It's cold, and he wants to shelter from the rain. It feels like it's cutting his face. But he's scared of the forest. Smoke has clogged the air in Katolis after storms before. He keeps walking, holding on to Callum as tightly as he’s holding onto him.
Still, Callum slips in a dip in the field, and when Soren reaches for him, he sees that it leads into a deeper ditch. He points, and Callum nods. They shuffle toward it. Lightening cracks, bright and sizzling, across the sky. Callum flinches, releasing Soren to clap his hands over his ears.
“Keep going!” Soren shouts, and nearly bites his lip. He can’t really feel it anymore.
It's hard to breathe through the rain and Callum’s shaking hard as Soren pulls him to the ground, wrapping his arms around him to shield him from the rain.
They don't speak. It’s too loud to hear anything but the storm. Water runs down Soren’s face, and he closes his eyes. Callum flinches every time thunder roars through the air.
It seems to stop as suddenly as it started.
Soren cracks an eye open. The sky is blue again, a small patch surrounded by shades of grey.
He doesn’t move, keeps Callum tucked in his arms. Callum could go for help… but Soren doesn’t want him to be on his own.
His ankle really hurts.
“Callum!” Soren hears distantly and lifts his head.
“Callum!”
Soren releases him, his arms stiff. Callum scrambles up the damp grass, lifting his head over the ditch. He gasps.
Soren’s slower, dragging himself up the slope after him.
Callum’s waving his arms at a figure in the distance. It’s his mum, Soren realises. General Sarai.
"Boys!" she cries when she gets closer. "Thank the stars you're okay!"
"Mum!" Callum launches himself at her.
Soren shivers. It's colder without Callum tucked against him. His clothes are heavy.
She encases Callum in her arms, soothing a hand through his soaked hair. She fusses over him, and Soren’s stomach hurts.
He tenses as she looks up. He's gonna get in so much trouble. He's the oldest, so it's always his fault.
"Soren, are you alright?"
Soren swallows.
"H-his leg is hurt," Callum says through chattering teeth.
She releases Callum, but he clings to her clothes, following her as she approaches Soren. She’s soaked too.
"Did you fall?" she asks, and Soren nods. He offers his leg to her when she reaches out to him.
She rolls up the wet material clinging to his ankle. It hurts, and he grimaces.
She tuts, and turns around, "Hop on my back, dear." Soren hesitates, glancing at Callum. He nods.
Soren gets up slowly, and General Sarai stands as he settles himself. She looks up at the sky. It's lighter, and Soren hopes the storm is over.
But General Sarai says, "Let's hurry back."
She moves fast, even with Soren on her back and both their clothes wet. But Callum's slower, and it starts raining again as the city gets closer. Soren can't help tensing.
"It's alright," General Sarai says.
It doesn't feel alright. He's cold and his whole foot hurts now. And he's going to get in trouble. Dad's going to be mad. What if Callum gets sick, from being cold? What if Soren gets sick?
His nose burns, and it makes his eyes water. He gasps, and then he can't stop himself as he starts to cry.
General Sarai doesn't tell him off. She just pats his leg where she's holding him up and keeps walking. Soren hides his face in her shoulder as they pass through town. The rain is light now. But he's still cold.
They keep going, up and up, until they reach the castle, and Soren tries his best to stop crying. Dad won't like it if he sees Soren crying. He'll tell him to be brave.
Soren just wants to cry.
It doesn't feel any warmer when they get out of the rain into the barracks. General Sarai takes them to her quarters where Callum lives, with her and General Amaya. And Soren's glad they're not going to his dad.
General Amaya is there, and Soren climbs down when General Sarai tells him to. She speaks to General Amaya with her hands, and General Amaya leaves. Soren watches her go, wringing his hands. He can barely feel them. He’s slowly dripping a puddle onto the stone floor.
General Sarai leans down in front of him, a bundle of towels in her arms. "My sister's getting you a spare change of clothes." She offers him two towels. "Here, dry off and get out of your wet ones."
She smiles, and Soren stares at her until she turns to Callum and starts to help him shed the clothes clinging to his skin.
Soren shivers and sits on the ground to take his shoes off. It hurts on his bad side, and it's hard to take off his pants.
General Sarai returns when he keeps struggling and helps him. Callum's watching, changed into fresh clothes, a towel perched on his head. He's clutching a thick blanket around his shoulders, still shaking.
She helps him move to sit beside Callum, and they look alike with towels covering their hair. He's tired. He wants to go to bed.
General Sarai brings a wooden box and kneels at Soren's feet, pulling his foot onto her lap. Soren flinches as she rubs a creamy paste onto his ankle. It looks strange. Fat where he swears it’s usually bony. She's gentle, but it still hurts, and his hands fist at his sides.
Callum shuffles closer, drawing Soren into his blanket.
She wraps a bandage around his ankle. It’s too tight, and Soren tries to pull his leg back, but she stops him. “It needs to be tight,” she says gently. She inspects his foot, and Soren supposes it doesn’t hurt any worse than before.
"I think it'll feel better in a few days," she smiles at him. That’s a long time. Soren wants it to feel better today. Or tomorrow.
General Amaya returns with Soren's clothes, and he wonders if she talked to Dad.
He doesn't ask.
It's another struggle to get changed again, his skin is tacky and it’s hard to manage his ankle. Soren's flushed and embarrassed by the end of it. But at least his face feels warmer.
Amaya heats milk for them while General Sarai disappears to dry herself off. Soren doesn't like hot milk; he prefers it cold. But he drinks it anyway because it warms the inside parts of him that the blanket can't reach.
"Are ... are we in trouble?" he gathers the courage to ask when his mug is empty.
"For what?" General Sarai signs something to her sister and General Amaya laughs.
Soren swallows. He hates guessing what he's done wrong.
She smiles before he can answer, "Of course you’re not."
Soren frowns, "But..."
"I promise," she says. "There's no way you could have gotten home with how quickly that storm started." She tucks her hair behind her ear, "I'm just glad we got the troops home before it started..."
General Amaya says something, and Callum giggles.
"What?" Soren asks him.
"She said some of them deserved to get stuck in the rain," Callum whispers.
Soren can't stifle the yawn that comes over him, and he rubs at his eyes. They're sore. Like his ankle.
"Why don't you boys have a nap?" General Sarai says and Callum hops to his feet, offering Soren his hand.
Soren feels embarrassed, limping after him. It seems worse than when they were in the rain. General Sarai offers her arm to him and Callum goes on ahead.
He holds onto her, and she lifts him with every step he takes so he doesn’t have to put weight on his foot. But it still hurts.
Callum’s already in bed when Soren manages to reach his room. He lifts his covers, making space for Soren to join him.
General Sarai picks up the blanket Callum trailed into the room. Soren thinks she’s just tidying it as he gets settled, but once it’s folded, she lifts Callum’s covers and places it at the end of the bed. “Keep your foot up,” she instructs, helping him settle it on top of the blanket.
It looks strange when she pulls the covers back down, a tall lump, like a monster hiding in the bed with them. But it hurts a little less.
“Auntie Amaya will be here to check on you,” General Sarai tells them.
“Where are you going?” Callum asks in a small voice.
General Sarai smiles, “There’s someone I need to talk to. I’ll be back for dinner - you’re welcome to say here and eat with us, Soren.”
Soren opens his mouth-
“I’ll mention it to your father,” she says.
Oh.
Soren nods.
She leaves, and Soren closes his eyes. Callum reaches for him under the covers, burrowing in close, and Soren wraps his arms around him. The warmth they share is meagre, but it’s nice having something to hold, and it’s easy to fall asleep.
When Soren wakes, Corvus is already up, scattering the remains of their fire. Soren sits for a moment, letting what they’re doing out here catch up with him.
The stars are gone. Grey clouds make the morning darker than it should be.
“I won’t bother asking if you’re alright,” Corvus says, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
Soren nods numbly.
“We need a plan,” Corvus says, keeping his tone careful.
King Ezran is so mad at Callum. What can they do to make him forgive him? Soren thinks about Claudia and being mad at her. His father-
Soren sweeps the thought away; swears he smells ashes and smoke.
He doesn’t know how Ezran can forgive King Harrow’s killer, and anyone who helps him, but…
“… We could talk to Gener- Queen-” Soren corrects- “Amaya.”
Corvus hums. “That’s… a good idea, actually.”
Soren looks at the spot Callum appeared from. He wonders if they can see them. If the elves in there are watching. Maybe Callum will hide in there forever. He wonders what will happen if they return empty-handed.
People and elves are working together when they arrive at the refuge, and Soren doesn’t try to hide his smile. It’s nice witnessing forgiveness. It makes it seem… possible.
Corvus explains the situation when they have their audience with Queen Amaya.
Soren keeps his head down.
He doesn't want to think about what could happen if people knew. He hates keeping it locked up, like some sort of horrible, condemning secret. Wants to lay his heart bare and damn the consequences.
But Soren knows there's no point.
“Soren,” Commander Gren says, and Soren braces himself to look up. Commander Gren is watching Queen Amaya, and she’s watching Soren.
Soren swallows. He hopes this doesn’t count as betraying King Ezran.
“Are you okay?” Commander Gren translates.
Soren blinks. That’s-
He realises his hands are fisted at his sides and flexes them.
“This elf, you last saw him that night,” Queen Amaya continues. Corvus’s head turns to Soren.
Blood, too many bodies to count, the King’s final expression, and failure, flash in his mind.
The faces of the assassins were insignificant.
Soren thinks justice is deserved. And maybe what his father did to him is enough. Callum’s forgiven him. But King Harrow wasn’t entirely his father. And Callum hasn’t been burdened with his crown.
“I’m fine,” Soren says, frowning. This is about Callum, and King Ezran.
She agrees to visit and speak with him. “Much has been lost… he needs support.”
Soren’s trying. But supporting King Ezran has always been supporting Callum, indirectly. Now it means the opposite. And it’s testing him.
They bed down on the outskirts of the camp that night, and Soren’s mind is over-full and empty at the same time. He polishes his sword, for something routine to do. Something useful.
"You said... forever," Corvus begins, giving space for Soren to cut him off.
He doesn't. His hands fall still on his sword, and Soren watches his own reflection in it.
"... When you were hunting the princes, even then?"
Soren sees his own jaw tick. He looks away. "Yes."
"... How?"
Soren doesn't know why Corvus wants to know. But he would tell him anything.
"I did it because my dad told me to..." he doesn't look at Corvus. He doesn't want to know what he's thinking.
"It... It was becoming a problem. I was-" That part is hard to say.
Soren skips it. It doesn’t matter right now.
"If he... died, it wouldn't be a problem anymore."
Corvus sits down. He's listening. Really listening. And that's nice.
"It's silly, I know," Soren glances at Corvus, "But I had to justify it to myself. I didn't want to disappoint him-" his throat closes, thinking about what’s happened. Their home, their people-
Soren puts his sword aside so he can draw his knees up; hide in them, like a child.
He’s lost him twice. Thrice, even. Sometimes he wonders if he's going to wake up and see him all over again. He's survived without a heart before.
Corvus shuffles closer, opens his arm, a clear invitation. Soren takes it, leans into his shoulder and breathes deeply, tries to refocus.
"He had a crush on my sister." Soren doesn't know why he says it. It only reminds him of yet another person he's lost. But Corvus is warm, and it helps battle the icy feeling thoughts of Claudia leave him with.
"It was easy to hate him, in a way. I kinda thought... if I was mean enough... I'd stop feeling that way?"
"… You've never told him?"
Soren shakes his head.
He's entertained the idea, foolishly. Many times.
But there's truly no point.
Corvus's chest rises and falls as he sighs. He squeezes Soren's shoulder. "Someone else will come," he murmurs. It brings some comfort. The future is always unknown…
“Maybe,” he agrees.
But Callum will always be his first.