Page 64 of Captive
It would be safer. Simpler.
Sebastian braced himself and lifted the warrior's body.
The weight was immediate and overwhelming. Solid muscle, heavy armor, death's absolute stillness. All of it settled across Sebastian's shoulders like judgment. He staggered, nearly fell, caught himself against a tree.
"Heavy as a stone," he muttered, adjusting the body. The warrior's arm hung down across Sebastian's chest, the hand cold and rigid. "Did you have to be the largest one they had?"
Sebastian took a step. Then another. His wounds screamed protest. The poison spread further with each movement. Blood seeped from the gashes across his chest, soaking into the warrior's armor.
Behind him lay the citadel, Father, two centuries of certainty about who and what he was.
Ahead lay the orc settlement, uncertainty, possible death at the hands of people with every reason to hate him.
He kept walking.
The forest transformed around him as he crossed from vampire territory into orc lands. He felt it the moment he passed the boundary, a shift in the air, in the quality of magic that flowed through living wood. The Heart Tree's distant influence brushed against him, not rejecting but acknowledging. Recognizing what he'd become.
"Your people have strange magic," Sebastian told the dead warrior. "It doesn't feel like Father's improvements. Doesn't process everything into efficiency. It just..." He struggled for words. "It just lets things be what they are."
The warrior, obviously, didn't answer. But carrying him made Sebastian feel less alone. Less like he was stumbling toward either salvation or execution without witness.
His legs shook. The poison had spread to his extremities now,making each step uncertain. Twice he nearly dropped the body. Twice he forced himself to hold on, to keep moving.
"I don't know if they'll accept me," Sebastian continued his one-sided conversation. It helped, somehow, to speak aloud. "Your warchief might. He's seen what I'm becoming. But the others..." He thought of Thornmaker's hatred, Rockbreaker's suspicion, the children pulling away in fear. "They have good reasons not to trust me."
The warrior's weight grew heavier with each mile. Sebastian's shoulders burned. His back screamed.
The forest continued endlessly. Sebastian lost track of time, of distance, of everything except the need to keep moving. One step. Another. Don't stop. Don't drop him.
Blood loss made him light-headed. Several times he veered off course, caught himself, corrected.
"Almost there," he whispered. To himself? To the warrior? Both, maybe. "Just a little further."
His vision blurred. The forest spun around him. Sebastian focused on the weight across his shoulders, using it as an anchor to reality. As long as he could feel that burden, he was still conscious. Still moving. Still choosing.
"I'm sorry I never knew your name," Sebastian said as the settlement walls appeared through morning mist. "Sorry I only know you as the one Boarstaff loved. You were probably more than that. Probably had friends, students, people you trained. Probably had a life beyond just being someone's lover."
The settlement gates came into view. Guards stood at the walls. They'd see him soon. Would sound the alarm. Would either kill him or let him enter.
"But I'm glad he had you," Sebastian finished quietly. "Glad he knew what it meant to be with someone who chose him. Who fought beside him. Who made him feel less alone."
His legs gave out.
Sebastian crashed to his knees, managing to lower the warrior's body gently before his strength failed completely. Blood pooled beneath him. The poison had spread so far now that his vision swam, the world tilting sideways.
He pressed his hand against the ground, tried to push himselfupright. His arm trembled, barely supporting his weight. The settlement gates seemed impossibly far despite being close enough to see clearly.
Then he heard it. Voices. Running footsteps. Alarm horns, three sharp blasts that echoed through the morning air.
Sebastian managed to raise his head. Figures appeared on the walls. Warriors, weapons drawn, staring down at him and the body he'd brought.
He tried to speak, to explain. His voice came out hoarse. "Found him... at the border... couldn't leave him..."
The settlement gates creaked open.
Thornmaker emerged first, spear in hand, his arm still in a sling from the mission. His face was unreadable. Then Boarstaff appeared beside him.
The warchief looked exhausted, dark green circles shadowed his eyes, grief and sleeplessness etched into every line of his face. But when his gaze fell on the body Sebastian had carried, something broke in his carefully maintained composure.
