That day is something we never talked about, but it hung over our heads reminding us of a lost time. It followed us everywhere, between there and wherever we went. It shadowed our thoughts and stalked us in our dreams. It is something we could neither face nor run from. It is something we would never be able to fight nor hide from.

It is with us forever.

A scar that never fully healed.

My hand landed on my companion’s shoulder. A small comfort in the wake of destruction. Trails of grey smoke carried on the wind, as did the stench of rot and decay. A thick layer of soot covered crumbled city walls and half-ruined buildings. Bodies were crushed and buried in debris. Sticky piles of human meat and puddles of blood scattered amongst the ruins.

Among the rubble, at the highest peak, an Order banner flapped in the wind amongst a setting sun.

A stabbing tinge in my heart. A surge of pressure rose in my chest.

There was nothing left for me there.

I searched for an answer, how it happened and why, but I reached no real conclusion besides the banner. Shrouded in blackness. It was like prodding a void with a dull spear; pointless and yielded nothing. It only caused me to be sucked in and get lost beyond being found.

All I knew, that was my home. My brothers-in-arms. The citizens and innocents of Helioso. All gone from a dark and mysterious force. The city of The Sun lay in carnage and ruin. Collapsed to the ground.

I remember a bright day suddenly turning to night with naught a star in sky, then the screams. So many screams. The scent of smoke and fires filled the air. Smoky black tendrils, shadows, Shades, encompassed the city and its people.

Then, only blackness.

I woke up in an outpost a half a league away from Helioso. I ran until I couldn’t anymore. Then, kept running again. Sweating. Sore. Knee wanted to give out, but I pressed on. Trudged along until I reached the city.

How I got to the outpost, I could not bring to light. It gnawed at me incessantly with no answers to give.

Leyo waited near the city and latched to my side when I arrived. They were out on a scouting mission, and arrived before I did. Lost and alone. Grieving.

I tenderly squeezed their shoulder, then my hand slid off. They were silent as night, and still as death. They seemed to be immovable. Their chest barely rose to the rhythm of their breathing, the breaths were short and rapid. Their face still. Their usual bright scarlet eyes dimmed at the sight before them.

Eyes that could tell me a tale without saying a word.

“We must push on,” I said sullenly.

I briefly stroked the embroidery of the patch resting on my jerkin's left breast. I slid my hand into my boot and pulled out an ornate dagger. Silver-steel, wolf head pummel with teardrop citrine eyes.

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A fond reminiscence flooded me. The dagger. It seemed dishonorable for a knight to have a concealed weapon. It wasn’t official arms; it was a gift. The knight who squired me, fond beyond normal, gave it in secret. Told me to use it as a last resort. I kept it ever since and would thereafter.

With great hesitation, I dug the dagger underneath the patch and yanked it off. The sewing thread popped as the patch separated from my leather jerkin. A sound ringing far louder in my mind than it actually did.

I slipped the blade back in my boot.

A lingering sting. That patch. A coat of arms that meant nothing anymore. I clenched it, savoring the last moments I had with it. It held my rank. My place in the world for the last eight years. It held brotherhood. The only family I had. It held memories. It held ideals and oaths. It held what defined me.

Then, at that moment, it held who I could no longer be.

I couldn’t do it anymore.

I kneeled to the dusty ground. Leyo watched me intently. Their rigid expression softened when our eyes met.

“You’re certain you wish to follow me on this path?” I asked.

“This one will follow you into the abyss,” Leyo said, crouching beside me. “This one will never leave your side.”

I nodded and held out my hand. “Now yours.”

Leyo mimicked, tore off their patch. An Order Scout’s. They handed it over. Their hand lingered. Only for a moment.

My face flushed.

“What does this mean?” They asked.

I cleared my throat. “Those who remove their patch is separating themselves from The Order.”

“Why would we do that?”

“We no longer have a place nor a purpose. By doing this, we’re denouncing our service and our oaths.” I looked at them wearily. “However, it’s a bold statement and this means we’ve gone rogue.”

“This one thinks they will not like that.”

“Certainly, but we must bear the consequences." I sighed. My voice lowered to a whisper. "Whatever that may be.”

I unraveled my leather belt to remove my main arm. Only the dagger and sidearm were left. Not exactly a comforting arsenal. I put it down then placed the patches on the scabbard.

“We must offer a sacrifice to our brothers,” I said, motioning to Leyo’s knives. “Dead or alive, we are leaving them behind.”

“May our fallen brothers find a place beyond The Veil,” Leyo said.

They slipped one of their knives a fist. In one swift movement, the blade glided out. Blood trickled and dripped over the patches. They handed the blade to me.

I did the same. I grimaced. A sharp slice. Then, held my fist over the patches alongside them. Droplets fell until the fabric of the patches were soaked in blood.

“To our brothers,” I said.

I ripped off a part of my under tunic and tightly wrapped my wound.

I stood and helped Leyo up. Their exposed skin began to redden, from the sun's kiss, especially fast.

They brushed dust from their blackened leather trousers and peered at him from the shadow of their hood. “Where do we go now?”

They pulled matching leather gloves off their belt and slid them on.

My heart got heavy. Then, the pull came.

Sechrae, again.

He called to me. Pulled me to him. I felt him. I have for years when everyone else convinced he was dead. No more Sechrae, the greatest warrior. No Heir to the Pasmosi throne. Taken by the Shadow Cloaks. The mystical, mysterious shadow branch of The Order. Myths and legends among the common folk. The Amber-Eyed Wolf finally met his end.

They were wrong.

The only one who knew the truth. Me.

Mad with grief, they said.

Denial blinds you to the truth, they said.

None of them understood. None of them knew of Remuuni Bonds. The King knew. He understood. Though he was not Bonded to Sechrae, he was still Remuuni. That man lied through his teeth. For what? The Order? They came and destroyed his kingdom anyway, apparently. At least took credit for it. They got what they wanted, and he got what he deserved.

It did not matter anymore. Bitterness for something that lie in ruin before me did me no service.

East. I had to go east.

I would save him. Like he saved me.

“We can’t go east with the sandstorms in Erimos. We’ll have to trek north to Skotino, then loop around east. We have to get to the river first.”

Leyo nodded. They took my hand.

One last look at the ruins before starting north, leaving a part of my life behind.

My choice, for once.