The caves were silent but for the occasional sound of shifting footsteps and whispered voices. The villagers, exhausted and grieving, huddled together in the darkness, trying to find comfort in each other's presence. The battle for Thalewood had cost them dearly—both in lives and hope. But as Calen sat against the cold stone walls, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the crystal, a new pain began to stir in his chest, one far more personal than any wound inflicted by the empire or the shadows.
The air in the cave was thick with sorrow, but as the survivors gathered in small groups, one conversation dominated. Finn, the scout whom they had all trusted, had actually betrayed them.
Finn had been one of the first to warn them about the approaching empire forces, his keen senses making him an invaluable ally. His quick wit and agility had saved lives more times than anyone could count. But on the night before the shadow attack, a few sharp-eyed villagers had noticed something strange.
As the shadows descended on Thalewood's gates (on chapter 23), Finn had been seen near the barricades, standing in a place where he shouldn't have been. His movements had been odd—rigid, almost unnatural. His face had been a mask, devoid of the camaraderie and humor they'd come to know. A moment later, the shadows had attacked in full force, and the barricades had fallen. The gates had crumbled, and the village was flooded with darkness.
At first, they thought nothing of it, but now, with everything that had happened, those villagers realized the truth. Finn had been part of the reason the defenses had failed. Whether by his own hand or not, the result was the same. The gates had been compromised from within, and Thalewood had been vulnerable. Finn had been the traitor.
"He's the one," Kira said coldly, standing at the entrance of the cave. Her voice was sharp, a bitter edge to her words. "I saw him. Just before the shadows hit. His eyes were… different. He wasn't himself."
Ronan's jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists. He had fought beside Finn countless times, trusted him with his life. The betrayal stung like a wound in his gut. "I never thought I'd see the day when a comrade turned on us," he muttered, his voice low, full of disbelief and anger.
But it was Calen who felt the weight of the revelation most keenly. Finn had been his friend, his ally, someone he had counted on. Now, as the others debated the fate of the young scout, Calen's heart was torn. He could not deny the truth, no matter how much it hurt. Finn's actions had led to the deaths of their people, the destruction of their homes. The cost was too high for forgiveness to come easily. Yet there was still a part of him that wanted to believe Finn had been forced into it—controlled by something far darker than himself.
"Are we really going to execute him?" Kira asked, her eyes narrowing as she met Ronan's gaze. "A traitor is a traitor, no matter the reason."
Ronan's stance was unwavering. "I say we do what the empire would do. We make an example of him."
The words stung, but they held a hard truth. The empire showed no mercy to traitors, and Ronan, ever the pragmatist, believed that justice must be swift and absolute. But Calen couldn't bring himself to condemn Finn in the same way. He had been under the influence of something dark, something beyond his control.
"No," Calen said firmly, standing and facing his comrades. "We're not like them. We're not the empire."
The silence that followed his words was thick with tension. Everyone knew the cost of mercy, but Calen's voice cut through the quiet with a sense of resolve that none could ignore. "I won't have us act like the empire does, not even when it's easier to. Finn was—" He stopped, his voice catching for a moment. "He was my friend. I will not execute him in cold blood."
"But Calen," Ronan began, his voice harsh, "he destroyed the defenses. He allowed those creatures to breach our gates."
"I know," Calen replied, his gaze unwavering. "But if we execute him, we're no better than the empire. We'll be the same as them, taking vengeance in the name of justice."
The words settled heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of people breathing, trying to find peace in the aftermath of the battle.
Kira was the first to speak, her voice soft but resolute. "Then what do we do?"
Calen turned to Finn, who had been brought to the cave's entrance, his head bowed low. The guilt in his eyes was palpable. His once confident, eager demeanor was gone, replaced by a broken, remorseful young man.
"I won't kill him," Calen said, his voice quieter now. "But I will not allow him to stay with us. He will leave Thalewood. He'll go far away, and he will never return."
Finn's eyes widened at the decision, his face paling. "Calen… I—I didn't mean to… I didn't know what I was doing. I—"
The words came out in a rush, but they were drowned in a sea of guilt and self-loathing. Finn fell to his knees before Calen, his voice trembling. "Please… I didn't want to hurt anyone. I didn't want this. I never did…"
Calen's heart wavered, but he remained firm. "I know you didn't want this. But what you did… there's no excuse. You were controlled by dark magic, but the damage is done."
Finn nodded, his tears staining his dirt-streaked face. "I… I don't know what happened. But I remember standing there, and then everything went black. I couldn't fight it. I couldn't stop it."
The guilt weighed heavily on him, his sobs wracking his body. But Calen held his gaze, his face softening despite the pain. "You'll leave, Finn. You'll live with this for the rest of your life, but you will never return. This is your punishment, and it's the only mercy I can give."
Finn nodded, his eyes hollow. "I understand," he whispered. He stood slowly, shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world had been placed upon them. Without another word, he turned and walked into the darkness, leaving the village behind.
As Finn disappeared from view, Ronan and Kira exchanged a glance, their faces heavy with the reality of what had just transpired. The village had been betrayed, but the decision to exile Finn was a reminder that their cause was not one of revenge. They were not the empire.
"Let him go," Kira said quietly, her voice more somber than before. "We'll all have our burdens to carry. His will be his alone."
Ronan remained silent, his gaze distant as he thought on the painful events of the day. They had all lost so much. Thalewood was no longer the thriving village it once was. It was now a fortress, and its people were bound together by grief and uncertainty.
But in the end, Calen had made the right choice. The cost of mercy was steep, but it was the only way forward.
Later that night, as the survivors huddled together in their makeshift shelter, Calen stood at the cave's entrance, the crystal in his hand glowing faintly in the darkness. The shadows might be gone for now, but the true battle was only just beginning.
And as the winds howled through the entrance, Calen could almost feel the weight of the crystal growing heavier, as though it too knew what was to come. He only hoped that when the time came, he would be ready.
Because they were not alone in this fight. The empire was still out there, and now, there were other forces to reckon with—the shadows that were drawn to the crystal's power, and the treacherous path it would lead them down.
"Tomorrow," Calen murmured to himself, "we rebuild. We make ourselves stronger."
In the distance, the first hints of dawn began to pierce the sky.