The morning light filtered through the cracked windows of the church, pale and indifferent. The smell of wax and dust lingered from the night before. Talon sat behind the old altar, arms crossed, while Aros and Alexander stood before him like two students called in for discipline.
Neither spoke.
"You both made a spectacle yesterday," Talon said finally. His voice wasn't raised, but it carried the kind of weight that silenced even memory. "This rebellion survives because we act as one. And yesterday, you split that unity open before half our ranks."
Aros kept his eyes lowered. The bruised look of exhaustion hadn't left him since Bondrea.
Alexander, on the other hand, stood perfectly straight, his cloak fastened neatly at the shoulder, every motion deliberate. "With respect, Commander," he said, "I didn't start that quarrel. I merely responded to an accusation that would have destroyed my name."
Talon's gaze sharpened. "Your name is less important than the cause."
Alexander smiled faintly. "To you, perhaps. But my name still holds value, value you've used more than once, I might add."
Aros finally looked up. "Your name won't mean much when the Light hangs it from the gates."
Alexander's eyes flicked toward him, cool and almost amused. "Still speaking like a soldier, even after losing your war. You have a big mouth on you, Kingslayer."
Talon slammed his hand against the altar. The sound echoed like a crack in the stone. "Enough."
The silence that followed was heavy.
"You'll both set aside your pride," Talon continued. "Apologies will be made, and then we move forward."
Alexander folded his hands behind his back. "I'll accept an apology. Publicly, preferably. I've been called a traitor before, but never by a man who owes me his escape."
Aros's jaw tightened. "You don't know what you owe."
"I know you've killed a king," Alexander said, voice soft, almost kind. "And yet you still stand here pretending you understand nobility."
Talon turned to Aros. "Do it. Now."
For a moment, Aros didn't move. His fingers curled at his sides, trembling slightly. Then, with visible effort, he forced the words out: "I… spoke out of anger. I was wrong."
Alexander inclined his head. "Apology accepted, Kingslayer."
The words hung there, lifeless. Talon exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Good. Then let's talk about something useful."
Alexander nodded, as if he'd been waiting for that cue. "That's why I came, in fact. Not just to clear my name, but to offer a solution."
Talon raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"You can't stay in Skariz, we all know that" Alexander said simply. "The Priesthood will find it soon enough. But there's a city in Velovia: Preta. Small, fortified, mostly forgotten by the Church. The noble there, Lord Hirias Lomnet, is an ally of mine. He owes me a favor and shares certain… sympathies."
Talon's eyes narrowed. "And you're certain he can be trusted?"
"As certain as I can be about anyone still breathing," Alexander said. "He won't ask questions. He'll shelter your people and provide supplies. You'll have safety, time to regroup. Perhaps even space to plan something that resembles strategy."
Aros frowned. "Why help us at all?"
Alexander's expression didn't change. "Because if the Light devours you, it devours me next. I'd rather see it choke first, and...i want to kill Jacobo more than you."
The words lingered, too honest to be entirely manipulative. Talon studied him for a long moment. "Very well. We'll consider it."
"Consider it quickly," Alexander said, turning toward the exit. "The longer you linger, the more eyes you attract."
Talon nodded. "And you? Where will you go?"
Alexander paused at the doorway. "Back to Bondrea. If I disappear for too long, someone might start wondering which side I serve."
He adjusted his gloves, almost absently, then looked back. "I trust the Knights of Light will remember who offered them sanctuary."
Talon didn't answer. Aros said nothing.
Alexander smiled faintly, as if amused by his own survival. "Then I'll take my leave...Goodbye"
He walked out into the morning sun, the church doors closing behind him with a sound that felt final. For a long time after, Talon remained silent, staring at the dust motes drifting through the air.
Finally, he spoke, mostly to himself."Velovia," he murmured. "A long road for a second chance."
The doors closed behind Alexander, leaving behind a silence that felt too wide for the room. Talon exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead as the echo faded.
"He never visits without leaving a storm," he muttered.
Aros hadn't moved. He was still staring at the doors, his jaw tight. "You think he's telling the truth about Preta?"
"I think he's telling the truth about what benefits him," Talon said. "But that's enough for now. We can use it."
They stood there for a moment, both knowing that the morning had already bled into another burden.Talon's tone shifted. "We still have one more matter."
Aros turned his head slightly. "Gustav."
"Yes." Talon leaned back against the altar, arms crossed. "He's tied up behind the west wall. The men are restless. They want an answer before dusk."
Aros frowned. "Execution?"
Talon nodded. "They won't settle for less. He was one of us. That makes it worse, not better. They want to see that betrayal costs something."
For a while neither spoke. The smell of wax and smoke lingered, the remnants of the morning sermon.Finally, Aros said quietly, "I don't understand it. Gustav stood against the Priesthood for years. He lost everything because of it. What could make him trade all that?"
Talon's eyes narrowed. "Survival, maybe. Or comfort disguised as loyalty. People change when the Light offers them shade."
Aros shook his head. "He was better than that."
"Was," Talon repeated softly. "That word makes all the difference."
The commander straightened, his tone turning formal again. "The men need to see this done right. Will you take it?"
Aros met his gaze. "You want me to execute him?"
"I want you to end a question before it grows into doubt," Talon said. "You've done this before. You know how quickly faith rots when guilt is left alive."
Aros hesitated, the words hanging heavy. "I'll do it. But I want to speak to him first."
Talon studied him for a long second, then nodded. "Fair. But do it before sundown. The people are waiting."
"I will," Aros said.
"And Aros," Talon added, his tone quieter, "make it clean. We don't want an scandal of this."
Aros looked down, running a hand over his face. "Clean," he repeated. "Right."
Talon pushed himself off the altar, glancing toward the windows where sunlight slanted through fractured glass. "If Alexander's offer holds, we'll move at dawn. "
Aros turned toward the exit, his voice low. "Or maybe the next place it will."
He left the church without waiting for a response.
Outside, the air was sharp and thin, filled with the sound of distant waves against the cliffs.Beyond the west wall, under a dying tree, Gustav waited, and Aros knew he would have to find the words to end him.