The King's Guard

Chapter 88

The smoke hadn’t faded by the next morning. It hung over the horizon like a scar that wouldn’t close.

Kael stood at the edge of the burned field, staring at what used to be the Academy gates. The ground still smoldered. Every gust of wind carried ash and memory.

Reyna’s voice broke the silence.

“He wouldn’t want us standing here like ghosts.”

Kael didn’t turn. “He deserved better than a pyre.”

“He got fire instead,” Jared muttered, sitting on a rock nearby, cleaning a blade that didn’t need cleaning. His tone was flat and defensive. “That’s what heroes get.”

Kyna shot him a glare. “You don’t mean that.”

He didn’t look up. “You think I don’t know what I mean? You saw it, the man chose to stay behind. Nobody asked him to.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “He didn’t need to be asked.”

“Still died for nothing.”

“Another word and I'll make you regret ever knowing me.”

Kael moved before he thought: one step, then another. Reyna caught his arm before he reached Jared.

“Stop,” she said sharply. “Not here.”

Jared smirked faintly. “Yeah, listen to your keeper, Kael.”

“Say his name again like that,” Kael said quietly, “and you’ll regret it. Bastard.”

Kyna exhaled. “It’s okay, Kael. Calm down. We just lost him.”

Jared sheathed his blade, muttering, “You lost him. I barely knew him.”

Reyna snapped, “Then shut up and let those who did grieve.”

They buried Darius at dusk.

There wasn’t much left to bury: a fragment of his sword, a scrap of his insignia, and ashes they gathered from the rubble. Kyna fashioned a marker from a piece of scorched wood, carving the name with a shaking hand.

Darius Talen. Commander, Teacher, Shield.

The wind blew dust across the grave. Ember and Drax stood silent, heads bowed. Even Jared didn’t speak.

Reyna stepped forward first. Her voice was steady, low.

“You taught us that loyalty isn’t obedience. That courage isn’t loud. That sacrifice isn’t pretty. We’ll remember that even when no one else does.”

She stepped back.

Kyna followed.

“You were the first to see me as something more than my name. You called me capable when others called me cautious. I’ll prove you right.”

Then Kael stepped forward. The others waited.

He knelt, staring at the carved name. His hands trembled, just slightly.

“You told me not to die for symbols,” he said quietly. “But you did. And you knew it.”

He swallowed. “I thought I’d hate you for that. But I don’t. Because I finally understand what you meant: that some things are bigger than orders.”

A pause.

“I’ll finish what you started. I’ll find out who turned this place into a graveyard and devour them. I swear it.”

Reyna placed a hand on his shoulder. “We all will.”

Later, under the half-moon, Kael sat apart from the camp. The others slept, or at least pretended to. The burned field stretched endlessly before him.

He turned the small leather notebook over in his hands, the same one Kyna had salvaged.

He hadn’t dared open it yet.

Footsteps approached quietly. Kyna sat beside him, wrapping a cloak tighter around her shoulders. “You’re still awake.”

“So are you.”

She smiled faintly. “Someone has to make sure you don’t vanish into the night.”

He turned the notebook in his hand again. “You said it’s coded.”

She nodded. “Same cipher my mother used for trade and covert routes. Darius must’ve known she’d taught it to me.”

“You can read it?”

“With time.” She hesitated. “But Kael… some of these sigils aren’t trade routes. They’re Shadow Corps coordinates: bases, movement patterns.”

Kael frowned. “Why would he record those?”

“Unless he was tracking something,” she said. “Or someone.”

Reyna appeared then, stepping into the circle of faint light. “You two planning to share with the rest of us?”

Kael looked up. “Not yet.”

Reyna crossed her arms. “You don’t get to keep secrets now, Kael.”

He sighed. “It’s not that. It’s just…” He glanced at Jared, asleep a few feet away. “I don’t know who to trust.”

Reyna followed his gaze. “You think he…”

Kael didn’t answer. The silence said enough.

Kyna tucked the notebook away. “Then we stay quiet. For now.”

Reyna hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. But if that book holds the truth, we don’t sit on it forever.”

Kael murmured, “We won’t.”

They broke camp at sunrise. The path ahead was jagged through ruined walls, broken training grounds, and smoke still curling from blackened stone.

Drax adjusted his pack. “So what now? We can’t go back. The Corps will call us deserters.”

Reyna replied, “Then we don’t go back. Not until we know who’s pulling the strings.”

Jared snorted softly. “And how exactly do you plan to find that out? Knock on Archon’s door and ask nicely?”

Kyna shot back, “You sound awfully defensive lately.”

“Just realistic,” Jared said. “The man’s the highest commander left. He’ll have half the kingdom backing him by now.”

Kael finally turned toward him. “Then we find the other half.”

Jared’s jaw twitched. “You really think you can take him down? You think you can fix this?”

“No,” Kael said evenly. “But I can make sure the people who died here didn’t do it for nothing.”

They reached the river crossing by midday. Ember went ahead to scout. Reyna walked beside Kael, eyes scanning the trees.

She broke the silence. “You’re quieter than usual.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About Darius?”

“About what he saw coming.” Kael looked at her. “He must’ve known this would happen. That’s why he wrote everything down.”

Reyna’s tone softened. “Then he trusted you to finish it.”

Kael stopped walking. “That’s the part I can’t stand. He trusted me to live, and I didn’t save him.”

Reyna faced him squarely. “Don’t twist that. He didn’t die because of you. He died for you, for us. That’s not failure, Kael. That’s choice.”

He looked away. “Feels the same.”

“No,” she said, quieter now. “It doesn’t.”

They stood in silence until Ember returned, waving them forward. “Path’s clear. But there’s patrols ahead, loyalists.”

“Then we move fast,” Kael said.

By evening, they found shelter in a collapsed watchtower overlooking the valley. Kyna lit a small fire. Jared sat apart again, sharpening his sword like he meant to carve his own thoughts into it.

Reyna glanced at him. “You going to keep pretending you’re fine?”

He didn’t look up. “What difference does it make?”

“You tell me.”

He finally met her eyes. “You think I don’t feel anything? He saved my life back at the training grounds once. I remember that. I just… don’t know how to feel now.”

Kael’s tone was level. “Try honest.”

“Honest? Fine. I hated him sometimes. He pushed you like you were worth saving and treated the rest of us like shadows. And now he’s gone, and you’re still standing in his light.”

Reyna stepped forward. “You’re jealous.”

“Maybe,” Jared said quietly. “Maybe I’m tired.”

Kyna interjected, “We’re all tired.”

Jared gave a half-laugh, sharp and bitter. “Some of us more than others.”

He stood abruptly, sheathing his sword. “I’m taking first watch.”

Kael watched him go, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night. Reyna exhaled. “He’s falling apart.”

Kael nodded. “So are we.”

Kyna looked between them. “Then we hold until we don’t.”

Hours later, Kael sat awake by the dying fire. The notebook lay open on his lap, pages filled with intricate markings. Kyna had managed to decode a single phrase near the edge of one page.

He traced it with his thumb.

> “The shadow answers only to the crown.”

His breath caught.

Reyna stirred beside him. “What is it?”

He showed her the line. “Darius wasn’t tracking rebels. He was tracking orders from the top.”

Reyna’s eyes widened. “From the King?”

Kael closed the book. “Maybe higher.”