Chapter eighteen
“I’ve never killed anyone before.”
Ceril didn’t know how to respond. The correct answer was probably not I have. You never really get over it, so he just looked at Saryn, sitting in front of him dumbfounded and in shock. It had been at least two hours since they had shot and killed the angels that had kidnapped them, and Saryn and Chuckie hadn’t made any progress toward coping with what had happened.
Ceril wanted to say something, needed to say something, but without the right words, all he could do was smile wanly at her.
Chuckie said, “Me, either, Saryn. Not really. I’ve shot at people, done a lot of simulations and combat exercises, but what happened with those angel things…” He paused and looked at his gun. “It was them or us.”
“Don’t recite clichés at me, Chuckie.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying that it really was them or us, you know? They came out of nowhere, snatched us up like we were nothing and flew off with us. I don’t think they were taking us home to meet their parents.”
“I know,” she said. “I know. It’s just…How did you deal with it, Ceril?”
Should he answer her? What could he say? “I, umm, what?”
“I know you don’t like talking about Ethan Triggs, Ceril. I know, and I’m sorry I brought it up, and this isn’t even close to the same situation, but how did you deal with, you know…” Her voice trailed off.
“Killing someone?” Ceril finished for her. “Taking someone’s life? Watching and feeling another person bleed out in front of me?”
“Yeah,” said Saryn, sheepishly.
“It wasn’t like this. Not at all. Not even remotely. I don’t…feel bad for those angels. Chuckie’s right: they were going to hurt us. But they were still people, or we have to assume they were, just like Ethan. How did I deal with it? Years of beating myself up, trying to repent somehow for what I did, trying to take it back. I worked my ass off on the Sigil because of it. I’ve had Roman and Bryt breathing down my neck ever since, pushing me to work harder, think faster, fit just one more class into my schedule.
“And you know what? I did. I worked harder. I thought faster. I took every class and training session and Instance mission they gave me. I never complained. Not once. At least not to them. I couldn’t. Everything I’ve done in the last five years has been to try to make up for that one second of lost control. That one second where this,” his Flameblade appeared in his hand as he spoke, its golden blade flaring brighter than it ever had, “pretty much started to dominate my life.” He bounced the sword from one hand to another, which made both Saryn and Chuckie shy away slightly.
“So how did I deal with it, Saryn? The best that I could.” The Flameblade disappeared and with it, the eerie illumination that had surrounded the trio.
“I-I’m sorry, Ceril.”
“Me, too,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Yeah, you did, boss. It’s cool,” said Chuckie. “You’ve probably had that bubblin around inside you for a while. I don’t want you to think we’re making light of what happened to you. It’s just that…we don’t know how to handle this.” Chuckie’s shoulders sagged as he said it. “All the training in the world can’t really prepare you for when you actually have to pull that trigger.”
Ceril stood up and looked around him. It was dark, and by his count, they had spent more than two hours hunkering under an outcropping a short walk from where they had shot and killed their winged kidnappers. “There’s nothing I can say that will make any of this better,” he said. “I kept myself busy for the last five years so I could keep my mind off what happened. And given our current circumstances, I think that’s the best thing we can do here, too. So you want my advice on dealing with this? Push it down until you have time. Right now, let’s see if we can find Harlo and Swinton.”
Saryn stood up and brushed herself off. “You’re right, Ternia. Thanks.”
“Yep,” he said. “Chuckie, it would make sense that Harlo and Swinton would come to find us, right?”
“As much as anything, yeah. They probably followed the angel guys’ path into the mountains.”
“So if we’re looking for them, then we need to backtrack. Which way is that from here?” Ceril knew which direction it was. He could have just given the order to move out and start walking, but he wanted to make sure Chuckie and Saryn felt needed, like they were able to contribute to something other than killing of their kidnappers a few hours prior.
Chuckie pointed. “That way, I think, boss. May take a little winding around if you want to head directly back, though. I don’t think these mountains have anything straight through em.”
“Thanks, Chuckie. Let’s try to make it as quick as we can to the plains. We can always pick up their trail from there if we don’t meet up with them,” Ceril said. “Saryn, what do you think the odds are that Harlo and Swinton went into the mountains before dark fell?”
“Oh, they’re in a cave somewhere, Ternia. After the day we’ve had, there’s no way they’ll be anywhere out in the open.”
“Lovely,” Ceril said. He was thinking the same thing, but he hoped that someone else might be able to convince him differently. “Then keep your eyes out for anything that might indicate where they are, and listen in case they’re talking or making enough noise that we can find them that way. If they’re in a cave, or even under an outcropping like this one, it’ll be easier to walk by and miss each other entirely. We can’t have that. Chuckie, you take point.”
“Always, boss.” It wasn’t insubordination or even sarcasm. Chuckie was simply the best person to have leading the squad, and they all knew it. Ceril took up the rear, ready to summon his Flameblade at the first sign of trouble.