Knives Can't Bury the Dead

Kaelan carried Maria into her tent. She held immense power, yet seemed so light in his arms. Her breathing was soft, without a clue of the danger that lurked—a danger that had been lurking for a while now. She was better off remaining in the ignorance of sleep.

Stepping back outside under a night sky that held the moon’s subtle glow, Kaelan watched the dying campfire flicker as its embers lingered in the cool air. He paced to the far end of the camp, where countless tall, thick trees gave way to a deep forest. He stared into the darkness, focusing on the sound of a snapped branch that had drawn his attention.

“I know you’re there,” he said.

A rustling came from the trees before a shadowy figure emerged.

It was the assassin with the lifeless eyes, from a night Kaelan had increasingly come to question. The man was cloaked in ‌black that was no darker than Kaelan’s own attire, yet somehow it projected something deeper. It was as if light had never touched him.

The assassin shrugged. “There’s no point in hiding, then.” The sickle in his hand seemed sharper than usual.

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?” Kaelan gripped his daggers.

The two dark figures took careful steps as they circled each other but stayed just out of reach.

The assassin chuckled. “So all this time trailing. You noticed my presence?”

“It’d be hard not to notice such bloodlust," Kaelan replied. "But I sort of hoped it was the other night stalkers who’d yet to learn their lesson.”

“Oh, you won’t have to worry about those pests interrupting your beauty sleep anymore.” The assassin grinned. “They were getting in the way… I’d advise against going as easy on me as you had on them.”

Kaelan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think all that trailing you did was worth the effort, considering you won’t get what you seek.” They edged along the forest, but it was still too close to camp. He would have to lure him deeper within.

The assassin sighed. “You truly believe I won’t get what I want?”

“I do,” Kaelan said. “But I question why you'd go out of your way.” He glanced at the assassin's arm.

A sleeve remained tattered from their prior clash; perhaps the man wasn’t lucky enough to know someone who mends. The skin beneath held a jagged scar. That strike really had done good damage.

“Is it not common practice for an assassin to hold no grudges?” Kaelan smirked. “That’s what leads one to their death.”

“The job isn’t done,” the lifeless-eyed assassin scoffed. “And you’re getting attached. That’s what leads an assassin to their death.” The corners of his lips curled. “I’ll show you firsthand!”

Something swift, cold, and sharp caressed Kaelan’s cheek, drawing warm drops of blood. It was the sickle. Had his head not reflexively twitched to the side, it would've been a fatal strike right between his eyes.

In one fluid motion, Kaelan sharpened his blades against one another, making them hiss. Pointing them forward, he slipped into the deep of the forest.

“The cover of darkness won’t help you!” The assassin ran after him.

Limbs and leaves rustled and cracked under the glow of a moon that wasn’t enough. Its light struggled to filter through the thickness of the woods and into the darkness.

***

An echoed clank of steel jolted Maria awake. For a moment, she remained frozen within the darkness of her tent. Her breath was as still as the forest. The sound seemed eerily familiar, like the night she had first met her would-be assassin.

Kaelan…

It wasn't the best first impression, but now she couldn’t imagine not having him by her side on this journey. Her heart quickened when the silence remained. She rushed outside.

A smoky yellow glow was the only thing that remained of the campfire. She glanced around, rubbing her arms. The darkness was deep, even under a clear moon’s glow, but her eyes adjusted enough to notice that Kaelan was missing. At the edge of the camp, a silver-streaked head of hair stood facing the forest.

“Thomas, what happened? Where’s Kaelan?”

Thomas turned his head toward her. He held a strained expression, one that made her eyes widen.

“I… I don’t know,” he said. But in front of him, at the edge of the forest, a trail of blood led deep within.

Maria stepped in.

“Wait!” Thomas called in a whisper, but she continued into the darkness. With hesitant steps, he followed behind her.

The blood trail continued through cut trunks and broken tree limbs. Whose blades had cut so deep? Whose blood dripped? Jagged wooden edges scratched her face in the low light.

A quiet chant came from behind. Thomas conjured a small flame that helped light the path a bit. Maria pushed through until arriving at a small clearing.

Her heart raced. It was the remnants of a battle, and at the center were two dark figures. One lay on the ground, lifeless. The other on their knees just beside. Maria inched forward as a knot formed in her throat.

A gentle breeze swayed the towering trees, allowing just enough ‌moonlight to confirm or relieve any fears. Sprawled on the ground over a puddle of blood that seemed black within the forest, was a familiar face.

Maria narrowed her eyes. The sickle in the man’s hand hung loosely; the same sickle that the lifeless-eyed assassin once carried toward the children at the chapel. Now, his breathing had followed the lifelessness his eyes had held.

Kaelan remained on his knees without word. His face was much easier to see with his hood down. She was glad he’d begun to change that habit.

His eyes were distant, and his head hung low. She wondered if he even realized her presence.

“Kaelan,” she whispered. Her words made his eyes twitch, and his hands, too. They held no daggers and were soaked in blood. Maria’s chest tightened briefly. She fell to her knees beside him and grabbed his blood-covered hands.

They trembled. From exhaustion? Or something else… It didn’t matter. He was alive.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

It took a moment, but Kaelan’s voice creaked out, “It’s not my blood.”

She locked her eyes onto his, refusing to let him avert them back into a distant gaze.

“...I know.”

He tried to pull his bloody hands away, but Maria didn’t let him.

“Thank you…” Maria continued. “You protected me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You’ve been protecting me.” The blood was still warm, but his hands were cold. Maria tightened her grip. “Thank you.” His trembling hands finally settled.

***

Stray rays of dawn broke through the thick of the forest and onto a small wooden cross that sat on a mound of dirt. Kaelan’s hands were no longer smeared with blood, but with earthy, black soil. They had dug the grave with their bare hands at first, before Thomas eventually found a rusty spade among the old carriage supplies Oz had left them.

The ex-court mage stood a few paces back, leaning against a massive pine tree. He spoke the words that Kaelan couldn’t say. That Kaelan had no right to say.

“He came to kill you.”

Maria didn’t look up. She stood with clasped hands at the foot of the grave.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Then why bury him?”

Finally, she unclasped her hands and turned. “Because he died.”

Kaelan stood at her side in silence. He had no right to speak, much less pray.

Thomas sighed.

“Perhaps no one will mourn him, but…” She narrowed her eyes upon the grave. “At least a proper burial for those who have lost their way. Because,” her gaze shifted to Kaelan who hung his head, “had our lives been different…”

Maria didn’t need to finish her words for Kaelan to understand. That grave could’ve easily been her own. But much more likely, it could’ve been his own. And if it wasn’t him lying cold beneath the dirt, it could’ve easily been him standing there in his place with that same permanent, lifeless gaze. The same one that reflected at him every time he clashed with the assassin.

“We should get moving,” Thomas said, making his way out of the forest.

Maria soon followed. “The road ahead is long,” she said, leaving Kaelan with a soft smile.

He stood alone beside the grave.

The world only protects what you can kill for.

He had believed that lie since the cellar in the slums. And he’d come to believe his only value to Maria was the sharpness of his blades and his ability to intercept the darkness before it reached her. Yet, she didn’t hesitate to grab his hands covered in blood.

After a small, quiet bow, he turned his back on the fallen assassin.

Underneath that dirt lay the person he had been—the solitary, cold-blooded shadow who believed survival was the only law. Kaelan exhaled a long, cool breath, letting some of those remnants drift away into the morning air.

The road ahead was long indeed. There were too many things he’d done that couldn’t be erased. Too many habits still to break, and beliefs to change. But for once, the road ahead seemed clearer.

He walked down the path, catching up to Maria's side.

Great mountain peaks loomed ahead against the horizon. He wasn’t sure what lay in wait, but he didn’t need to be, because afterward, the road toward the holy capital surely awaited.