**Chapter 13: The Price of Victory**
The sound of marching feet had faded into a distant echo, leaving the camp in an eerie stillness that felt almost unnatural after the chaos of battle. Riven sat alone by the edge of the camp, his eyes fixed on the horizon, where the last remnants of daylight were slipping away, swallowed by the darkness of night.
The battle was won. They had pushed the enemy back, securing a significant victory. But the cost had been high. Riven's mind replayed the faces of the fallen, their expressions frozen in moments of bravery and fear. Faces of soldiers who had stood by him, believed in him, and now, they were gone. Their sacrifice had ensured victory, but it had come at the price of lives he could never replace.
The weight of it all pressed down on him like a mountain, crushing the breath from his chest. Victory, he had once believed, was the ultimate goal, the end of the struggle. But now, as he sat amidst the wreckage of war, he realized how hollow that victory felt. It didn't bring the joy he had expected. Instead, it only left him with a deeper emptiness, a gnawing ache that refused to be silenced.
"Riven."
The voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Lia standing a few steps away, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the campfire. Her presence, like always, was a grounding force.
She stepped closer, her movements deliberate, her eyes not quite meeting his, but filled with an understanding that made her more comforting than any words could be. The distance between them was small, but the silence felt vast. Lia had been with him from the start, through every victory, every loss. But tonight, there was something different in the air—a weight, an unspoken truth that hung between them, something neither of them could easily voice.
Riven nodded, trying to force a smile, though it felt foreign on his lips. "We won," he said quietly, his voice heavy. "But it doesn't feel like it."
Lia didn't answer immediately. Instead, she sat beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her presence, but not so close that she encroached on the space he needed to think. The crackling fire between them flickered, casting shadows on their faces.
"The cost was high," Lia finally said, her voice soft but firm. "Too high, sometimes."
Riven's gaze dropped to the ground, where the remnants of the battle lay in silent testimony. The bloodstained soil, the broken weapons, the empty spaces where soldiers once stood—all of it served as a grim reminder of the price they had paid. The victory felt like a cruel joke, a fleeting illusion that faded the moment the last blow was struck. What did victory matter if those who fought for it were no longer there to celebrate it?
Lia placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and Riven flinched at the touch, not because it was unwelcome, but because it felt like a lifeline—one that he wasn't sure he deserved.
"I should have done more," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I should have planned better, prepared better. Maybe if I had, more of them would have survived."
"You did what you could," Lia said softly, her hand remaining on his shoulder, grounding him. "You're a leader, Riven. You can't be everywhere at once. You can't protect everyone. Not all the time."
"But I promised them," Riven whispered, his voice barely audible. "I promised them I would bring them home. I told them I would keep them safe, and now they're gone."
Lia's expression softened, and she moved closer, her voice gentle yet unwavering. "You can't carry that weight alone. You didn't force them into battle. They chose to fight with you because they believed in you. They knew the risks. And they did it because they trusted you to lead them."
"I failed them," Riven muttered, his fists clenched at his sides. "They're dead because of me."
"No." Lia's voice was firm now, insistent. "You didn't fail them. You made a decision. A hard decision. And yes, it cost lives, but it also saved many more. You can't change the past. All you can do is honor their sacrifice by ensuring their deaths weren't in vain."
Riven closed his eyes, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had been through countless battles, seen comrades fall before, but this—this felt different. This victory, this price—he couldn't shake the feeling that it was too high. His mind kept returning to the faces of the fallen, their names echoing in his thoughts.
Lia sat quietly beside him, allowing the silence to settle between them. She didn't rush him, didn't try to fill the quiet with empty words. She simply let him be.
After a long while, Riven spoke again, his voice quieter this time, more resigned. "I thought victory would feel different. That it would bring closure, peace. But all it's brought is more questions."
"You're still human," Lia replied gently. "And that's okay. You're not supposed to have all the answers, especially in times like these. You can't control everything, no matter how hard you try."
Riven glanced at her, his gaze searching her face for some hint of the answers he so desperately sought. But Lia only offered him what she had always offered—support, understanding, and the quiet strength that came with being by his side through every challenge.
"Is it worth it?" he asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "Is the price worth it?"
Lia turned to him, her eyes soft but resolute. "I can't tell you that, Riven. Only you can. But I know one thing for sure—none of us can do this alone. And you're not alone. Not now, not ever. You have people who believe in you. Who will stand with you, no matter what comes next."
Riven let out a breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. He didn't have the answers, not yet. But in that moment, he realized that maybe he didn't need them right now. Maybe all he needed was to keep moving forward. To honor the lives of those lost by continuing the fight, by pushing through the darkness and the pain.
Lia stood up then, offering him her hand. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's go back to the others. They need you. And so do I."
Riven hesitated for a moment, then took her hand. The simple act grounded him, reminding him that he wasn't alone. There was a path ahead, even if it was uncertain and fraught with more sacrifices. And though the weight of the war—and the price of victory—still hung heavily on his heart, he knew one thing: he couldn't give up. Not now. Not when there were people like Lia, like his comrades, who believed in him.
Together, they walked back to the camp, the sounds of their footsteps mingling with the distant murmurs of the soldiers, who were already preparing for the next battle. And though the war was far from over, Riven knew that as long as he had the strength to move forward, he would keep fighting.
For them. For those who had fallen. And for the future they all hoped to build.
The price of victory was high. But perhaps, in the end, it was worth it.