The air was heavy, the silence deafening. Ronon stood alone at the edge of the campfire's dying glow, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the night sky met the mountains. The stars above glittered indifferently to the turmoil below, and the only sound that filled the void was the crackle of the embers slowly fading into ash.
Thalia was gone.
Her absence was like a knife twisting in his chest, an agony that threatened to overwhelm him. She had been more than just a companion, more than just a skilled fighter who could slip in and out of the shadows like the wind. She had been his friend, his confidante, someone who understood the burden he carried.
And now, she was gone.
Kellan approached quietly, his steps almost hesitant, as if he feared breaking the fragile silence Ronon had wrapped himself in. He stood beside Ronon, his face grim, his eyes shadowed by grief. "We need to move soon. The Circle will be looking for us."
Ronon didn't respond. His hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword, knuckles white. The path before him felt darker than it had ever been. He had always known the cost of this war, had seen it in the faces of those they had lost along the way. But this… losing Thalia felt different. It felt personal.
"She knew the risks," Kellan continued, his voice low but steady. "She made her choice. We can't let it be in vain."
At that, Ronon's gaze finally broke from the horizon. He turned to Kellan, the fire in his eyes barely contained. "I know what she did. But that doesn't make it right."
Jorin joined them, his face set in a grim expression. "It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong. What matters is what we do next."
Ronon looked at his companions, both battle-worn and weary, yet still standing beside him despite the cost. A part of him wanted to turn back, to walk away from all of it. What was the point of this endless war? The Circle of Shadows seemed to always be one step ahead, always taking from them and leaving only pain in their wake.
But another part of him, the part that had been forged in the fires of battle and loss, knew there was no turning back. Thalia had died believing in something greater than herself. And if Ronon didn't honor that, then her death—and every death before her—would be for nothing.
"We move at first light," Ronon finally said, his voice hard. "We'll finish what we started. No more mistakes."
The decision was made, but it did nothing to ease the ache in his chest. He turned back toward the fire, his mind drifting to the path that lay ahead. It was growing darker by the day, the weight of their losses pressing down on them like a suffocating fog. But there was no other way forward now. They were in too deep. The Circle had taken too much from them, and the only thing left was to see it through to the bitter end.
As the night wore on, Ronon found himself standing over Thalia's grave, a simple mound of earth they had hastily covered in stones. There was no time for a proper burial, no time for mourning. But Ronon couldn't bring himself to walk away just yet.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice raw. "I should have been there sooner."
The wind rustled through the trees, the only response he would ever get. He knelt down, his fingers brushing against the cold stones, and closed his eyes. In that moment, he vowed to never let the Circle take anyone else from him again. No matter what it took, he would end this war. He would destroy the Circle of Shadows, even if it meant walking the darkest path to do it.
As dawn broke over the horizon, Ronon rose to his feet. The time for grief was over. The time for vengeance had begun.
Kellan and Jorin were already preparing their supplies, their movements quick and efficient. The fire in their eyes matched Ronon's own, a shared resolve born from the pain of loss.
"Ready?" Jorin asked, tightening the straps on his armor.
Ronon nodded. "Let's go."
They set off in silence, the forest around them still and quiet, as if even nature was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. The path ahead was shrouded in shadow, uncertain and treacherous. But Ronon knew one thing for certain: he would not falter. Not now.
The Circle had drawn first blood, but Ronon would make sure they regretted it.
As they moved deeper into enemy territory, the shadows seemed to close in around them, but Ronon welcomed the darkness. It was in the shadows where he would find his enemy, where he would confront the ones who had taken so much from him. The darkened path was no longer something to fear—it was his only way forward.
And he would walk it until the very end.