The grave tone in Mary’s voice caught Tucker off guard. It was the first time he had ever seen such hate and disgust in her tone. If he didn’t know her so well, he would have assumed she was directing her disdain at him. But the moment she saw his startled expression, her gaze softened.

  “I… sorry, I didn’t mean to seem mad at you or anything—really,” Mary said. “It’s just that I hate demons and those who work with them.”

  Tucker simply smiled in response. She was from the Souldom, so it made sense why Mary hated demons with all of her heart and those who confided in them. That alone was reason enough for him to hide what happened in Charles’s office and never let it surface.

  “Don’t sweat it. I know you aren’t the type of person to take out your anger on someone without proof.” Tucker patted her head gently, causing both of them to freeze.

  Mary glared at him. “Am I a child to you?”

  “Sorry, it’s a bad habit.” Tucker awkwardly laughed, removing his hand. “But honestly, we just got lucky. Your ring was enough to deal with it.”

  Her annoyed expression quickly shifted. “What? I knew I blessed it enough to embed one attack with divinity, but it shouldn’t have been enough to defeat a Sovereign Demon.”

  She quickly grabbed onto Tucker’s left hand and held it as a faint golden glow emitted. “There isn’t a trace left…”

  “What if the demon was weakened?”

  “Serevoth isn’t a simple demon. Sovereign Demons would still be alive even if you broke its core and decapitated it. There’s a reason the Souldom would immediately know if one had crossed over to the realm.” Mary clenched Tucker’s scarred hand as a golden aura enveloped his palms, but it was already too late. The scar tissue had already settled.

  A flicker of pain flashed across her face as Tucker pulled his hand back. “You always push yourself too far.”

  “It’ll probably fade away with time.” Tucker smiled and hid his hands behind him. “Besides, if what you’re saying is correct… does that mean demons are crossing over without the Souldom knowing?”

  “It’s not uncommon for Lesser Demons to appear, or even Greater Ones. But Sovereigns are in their own category, since they’re akin to natural disasters. We know when they arrive because of their demonic energy. In order to restore balance, the world allows Solas and the other gods to bless the land with more divinity.” Mary turned on her heel and stepped forward. “If Sovereigns have entered our plane without us knowing, that means it’s a possibility that Throne Demons and Primal Demons have also done the same.”

  Tucker followed along. “So what’ll you do?”

  “I have to return to the Souldom and report this. If I can confirm that Serevoth really did appear in Alexandria, then the Empire will have to explain themselves.” She looked at Tucker. “Do you have anything I can use as proof?”

  “No—” before Tucker could finish his sentence, a translucent orb flew towards the side of his head. He looked around as he caught it and frowned. It faintly shimmered in the palm of his hand, and from the enchantment inscribed on the surface, he knew exactly what it was. “Would a memory device be enough proof?”

  “It would be a start,” she replied.

  “Well, it’s better to start somewhere.” Tucker held onto Mary’s hand and gently set the orb in the center. “If you convince the Souldom to investigate and confirm that the Empire summoned the demon… then what happens?”

  “We would cut off support for the Empire and force all our priests to return.”

  “Would the Souldom join the war?”

  Her lips trembled. “I can’t say. Centuries have passed since the last holy war.”

  Tucker clenched his hands tightly at his sides. He knew it was too much to hope for the Souldom to join the war. But a shred of hope still clung to his heart, believing that the Souldom would see the injustice from the Empire. Silence held him, with the words dying in his mouth. He did his best to hide his troubled gaze. It wasn’t right for him to wear his heart on his sleeve.

  Mary stared at Tucker as they began walking and softly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to carry all that burden by yourself. I’ll try my best to help, no matter what it is.”

  “That’s not your burden. I would never want you to put yourself in danger for me,” he said.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re worried about me,” Mary said.

  “If I said I was, would you listen?”

  Mary played with the idea for a bit before nodding. “I would.”

  “If I said I didn’t want you to go to the front lines, would you do it?” Tucker watched as Mary struggled to come up with an answer before chuckling. “I’m just pulling your leg; it’s enough if you just try to keep yourself safe and run when there’s danger.”

  “Really? I always pictured you as the controlling type.”

  “Controlling? I wouldn’t try to control my partner. Don’t get me wrong, there would be boundaries, but that would be something we’ve talked about beforehand.”

  “It sounds like you’ve broken a lot of hearts,” Mary teasingly said with a grin.

  Tucker shook his head. “I’ve never dated or fallen in love.”

  “Now that I find hard to believe. You seem like a pretty good guy, and you’re handsome as well.”

  “Believe what you will.” Tucker kept his eyes forward before mumbling. “It’s probably for the best anyway…”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  She tilted her head. “What was that?”

  “Ah, I was just speaking to myself.” Tucker waved his hand to the side. “Why are you digging so much into my love life? Are you interested or something?”

  Mary showed a blank expression. “It’s just small talk. Besides, most of the time I see you, it’s because you end up hurt.”

  “Well, it makes sense since you’re a priest, you know? I wouldn’t really have much of a reason otherwise.”

  “Are you always this determined to get the last word?” Mary nudged him with her elbow. “You should learn when to concede. It’s not worth always trying to be right.”

  “Maybe I just want to be right when it comes to you.”

  “You know that’s not the most attractive trait to have.”

  Tucker shrugged with a faint smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Good.” Mary smiled softly. “See? Already an improvement.”

  “Very funny.” Tucker rolled his eyes slowly to the side before settling back on her. They had made it to the intersection where they would part ways. Even though it was just a short while, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that their conversation came to an end here.

  “Well, I guess that’s that,” she said. “I need to return to the Souldom. There should be some other priests stationed here in the main lobby, so if you need anything, you can see them.”

  “Don’t worry, I will,” Tucker said. “I’m not the type to neglect my health.”

  “I know, but I do worry a bit because you always charge headfirst into danger.” Mary held onto the memory orb with both hands. “Many people care about you; you know that, right?”

  “Of course, but danger comes with the career. My life isn’t my own.” Tucker grinned and waved his scarred hand. “You make it sound like this is the last time we’ll see each other.”

  “Let’s not forget that you’re pretty reckless.”

  Both of them quietly laughed before falling silent.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said.

  “Yeah, same.”

  Tucker watched Mary give a small but polite nod as she turned away. In his head, he could have pictured a life where maybe he would have found someone and lived happily with them. But that wasn’t this life. There was a cause far greater than his own joy. One that would take whatever he had to give in exchange for a legacy he would never see.

  Yet, as they parted ways, a feeling of regret crept into his heart, knowing that the life he wanted would never come to fruition. He slowly exhaled, releasing a breath of cold air before glancing over his shoulder. It was a rough guess, but the person who had thrown the memory orb was most likely Ray. Only now, he was nowhere to be seen.

  “What a noisy guy,” he muttered.

  His footsteps faintly echoed through the barren stone halls of the Order. It had been months since he had last set foot here, but after entering the winding staircase that led to the third floor. He could see it—the living quarters for the rookies. For his comrades who had trained through hell and back with him.

  Tucker took a deep breath, and with a hardened gaze, he stepped into the hall. His shadow flickered across the rows of aging wooden doors. Some still clung to the bronze nameplates, while others were left empty. At every door that had lost its name was a single white lily. A quiet sign of mourning for those who would never return.

  To say he wasn’t torn would be a lie. The time he spent with the other rookies was short, but they were the ones who stood beside him in those early days filled with uncertainty. They had trained together, struggled together, and pushed each other to be better versions of themselves. The barren doors he passed were more than just hollow rooms. They were unfinished dreams of those he stood shoulder to shoulder with.

  Once he reached his room, Tucker stared at his bronze nameplate, resisting the urge to rip it off the frame. He twisted the metal handle and gently pushed the door open before entering. His hands unbuckled each strap of the black iron armor, unfastening each piece one after another with a soft click. The weight slid from his shoulders and body as he lifted the armor free before placing it against the wall.

  Much of his room was still the same—except for the new items on his desk. He tapped the enchanted stone on his table as the runes lit up. A dim magic circle shimmered as mana washed over him, clearing the blood and sweat from his clothes.

  “These shouldn’t be here…”

  Tucker’s gaze drifted across the room. Letters, pendants, and other objects that were too precious to throw away were set in one corner. He walked towards his desk, eyes drifting down to the letter left on the surface.

  Dear Tucker Welford,

  If you’re reading this, then you’ve probably noticed the other mementos of previous watchmen stored in your room. Honestly, with the current casualty rates in the Order… I never realized how many of our men came from humble backgrounds. Maybe that is why I’ve had a harder time parting with the trinkets of those who are no longer here.

  When you hung your wish on the potted tree, I thought it was just a kind act you did for Adira, and a piece of me wished it were. I never imagined that we would have so many vacant rooms, but I guess that’s just the effect of the war.

  Like the wishes that the other watchmen wanted to pass on, I checked the wills of those who began their journey to Lysenne’s embrace. Those who didn’t provide a will would have their belongings passed to the next watchman down the line.

  This is the best I could do to continue their legacy.

  With the utmost gratitude for your service,

  Oliver Evergreen

  Head Custodian of the Order

  From the corner of his eye, he could see two wooden picture frames. One of him with Luka and John, and another with the men of the Thirty-First. He picked up the first, covering his eyes as his vision grew blurry.

  “Where did it all go wrong?” Tucker mumbled.

  He stood alone, holding the wooden picture frame of him, Luka, and John with care. It felt like a cruel joke. One sick nightmare that Tucker wished he had woken up from. His gaze fell onto his friends, as if they were staring right back at him from another life.

  Their scuffed leather armor didn’t match their wide smiles as they slung their arms over each other’s shoulders. It had been taken just after their acceptance into the Order—days before the war began. Luka’s grin was wide and reckless, the kind that dared the world to try harder. While John’s was softer, with eyes brighter than anyone could’ve imagined. Filled with a hope Tucker didn’t quite understand until it was gone.

  His thumb brushed against the edge of the picture frame, fighting back the regret that clawed at his heart. It was the first photo he had ever been a part of. Someone was shouting at them to hold still, with Luka complaining about their positions and John laughing in the background. Back then, Tucker was rolling his eyes even as he stood between them.

  None of them thought it would matter.

  That it would be all that remained.

  His chest tightened with each trembling breath. Back when Luka had told him about John’s passing, his mind had yet to process it. All he saw was the broken back of a man barely trying to hold on. Tucker didn’t consider himself that close to John, but in reality, he was just as much of a friend as Luka.

  He closed his eyes as memories surfaced one after another. Luka’s voice rang out against the chaos as they fought side by side at the bastion. Their swords clashed against Igneel’s, carving out precious seconds for others to flee.

  Then came the Empire’s war machine, a force that struck fear into the hearts of everyone there. Luka had every right to run, to leave him behind. But he didn’t. His friend stood shoulder to shoulder with him in their darkest hours, fighting back tooth and nail in the belief that they could still win. Until finally, sacrificing his life just so he could live.

  The silence that followed gnawed at Tucker as he lowered his head, forehead nearly touching the picture to bridge a gap that would never close.

  Why him? Why was he the only one left?

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, slowly opening his eyes.

  Sorry that he had survived.

  Sorry he couldn’t have done more.

  And sorry that the world kept moving on without them.

  After a long moment, he straightened his composure and placed the picture frame back on the desk so the sun would shine upon it. The ache in his heart didn’t fade, and perhaps it never would. The life he had been given was no longer his. It belonged to those who had sacrificed theirs.

  And Tucker would keep moving forward—for all those who couldn’t.