Nyros remained silent for several seconds. The tremor that had passed through the street was fading, but the windowpanes still shook in their frames. A hanging sign creaked against its chain, and farther away, a shard of glass finished sliding down a roof. The townspeople had taken shelter beneath doorways and behind storefronts. A man poked his head out of a shop, saw the captain kneeling on the cobblestones, then quickly pulled back inside without closing the door.
Nyros looked up at the shattered window several stories above. Loose sheets of paper were still drifting out of it. The wind lifted them into the orange evening light before letting them fall between the buildings. He followed one until it disappeared behind a chimney, then turned his attention back to the man he had just stopped from smashing his skull against the street.
The captain kept his head bowed. His good hand clutched the fabric beneath his injured shoulder while his other arm hung limp at his side. Every time he inhaled, his mouth opened slightly and his body went still before he could breathe out. A cut near his temple had left a trail of blood down his cheek. Tiny fragments of glass still glittered in the folds of his uniform.
"Whoa…"
"What?"
"You really went straight through a window."
The captain looked up at him.
"I noticed."
"Good. But why?"
The captain clenched his jaw. Nyros ran a hand over his face, but pain shot through his right shoulder before he could finish the gesture. He lowered his arm with a grimace and looked down the street. The inn's sign protruded from behind the corner of a building. It was only a few minutes away. He could have been sitting in front of a meal by now, drink in hand, with fifteen hours of sleep as his only plan.
"Because I made someone angry," the captain finally answered.
"Someone? Who?"
"The man who stayed upstairs."
Nyros glanced at the shattered window.
"That still doesn't sound like a name."
"It was because of a decision."
"What decision?"
The captain's fingers tugged once, then twice, at his uniform.
"One I don't regret. Not really."
Nyros forgot about the inn and the meal waiting for him there.
"Hold on. You just went through several panes of glass, your arm is hanging uselessly at your side, and you still don't regret it?"
"I regret the consequences. Not the decision."
"So you regret the window, but not whatever made him throw you through it."
"That isn't what I said."
"If you don't regret the decision, then you don't feel any remorse."
The captain held his gaze despite the pain.
"You're simplifying something you don't understand."
"And you're hiding it behind cleaner words. You really are a captain."
"I was so close…"
"To what?"
"Happiness. Forget it."
He crouched in front of the captain, no longer trying to force him to meet his eyes. He waited until the man turned toward him on his own.
"Now answer me."
"We talked about his past. His family."
"And that famous decision of yours?"
The captain's fingers tugged at his uniform again.
"It isn't my place to tell you—"
Nyros looked down at his hand.
"Do you do that every time you're trying to buy yourself time?"
The captain followed his gaze and immediately released the fabric.
"Do what?"
"Pull on your uniform. Once when you hesitate, twice when you're planning to lie."
"I wasn't planning to lie."
"Then you hesitate a lot."
The captain finally looked him straight in the eye.
"Do you always study people like this?"
"Only the ones who go through windows. Tell me what you decided."
Nyros said nothing more. His gaze remained fixed on the captain. At the far end of the street, a cart slowed in front of the debris. The driver pulled on the reins and guided his horse into an alley. The squeal of the wheels faded into the distance. The captain followed the sound for a moment before looking back at Nyros.
"I took part in the decision that condemned him."
"Condemned him to what?"
"Death."
Nyros remained crouched with one hand resting on his knee. His fingers stopped moving. He looked up at the broken window and stared at the opening for several seconds.
"I didn't make that decision alone," the captain added.
"I never said you did."
Nyros slowly nodded.
"All right."
The captain frowned.
"All right?"
Nyros stood. His gaze returned to the shattered window one last time.
"No. But now I understand why he stopped listening to you."
Nyros rubbed the back of his neck. The captain planted one foot beneath himself and tried to stand. He had barely lifted his torso when a ragged breath escaped him. Nyros caught him with his left hand, gripping him by the uninjured shoulder, and held him steady while he struggled to find his balance. The man managed to get to his feet but remained hunched against him.
"Bad idea."
"I have to go back upstairs."
Nyros looked at the arm hanging against his uniform.
"With your shoulder like that?"
"It isn't…"
The captain tried to move it. The rest of his sentence died between clenched teeth. Nyros waited for him to give up, then tightened his hold without saying a word.
"I need to finish that conversation," the captain said once he had caught his breath.
"You just finished it one floor lower. Appreciate the progress."
Boots suddenly pounded against the cobblestones at the end of the street. A group of knights came around the intersection, the pieces of their armor clattering with every stride. Several already had a hand near their weapons. A woman pulled her child into a shop. A merchant lowered his shutter halfway, then leaned behind it so he could keep watching. Nyros counted the men: six, eight, then two more arriving behind them.
"Of course."
The captain raised his head.
"Don't do anything."
"Excuse me?"
"Those are my men. Nyros, don't do anything."
Nyros raised his free hand.
"I had no intention of doing anything. Doing nothing was the heart of my entire schedule tonight."
The first knights slowed when they saw their superior leaning against him.
"Captain!"
Two men approached. A third, younger than the others, stopped a few steps behind them. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword until the leather creaked.
"Get away from him."
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"Good. My answer wouldn't have changed."
"If I move away, he falls."
Nyros looked down at the captain as his legs started to buckle again. One of the knights finally stepped forward to support him. Nyros waited until the man had a proper hold before releasing the captain's uniform. The third knight did not take his hand off his weapon.
"Captain… who did this to you?"
The captain looked up at the building. Nyros followed his gaze.
Tharion stood in the opening of the shattered window. The wind whipped at the edges of his coat and lifted the sheets of paper behind him. Several passed close to his face without drawing his attention. His chest rose and fell too quickly. His fists remained clenched, and the cross still shone within his irises, dimmer than before but visible even from the street.
"How dare you keep talking about my family like that?"
The captain stiffened against the knight supporting him.
"Tharion, I only said what needed to be said."
"What needed to be said?"
The cross in Tharion's eyes flared brighter.
"Why didn't you die when you were supposed to?"
Metal scraped against a scabbard. Tharion looked down at the knight drawing his sword. The air grew heavier around them. The soldier's knees bent, and his blade sank several inches. Farther away, horses pulled against their restraints. The hanging sign stopped creaking, its chain stretched taut above the shop, while the weakened windows began to tremble again.
Beneath Nyros's boots, his shadow stretched in the wrong direction, away from the light. One black point slipped between two cobblestones, followed by another. He glanced down and slowly curled his fingers. The shadows withdrew beneath his soles. When he looked up again, Tharion was no longer watching the sword. His eyes were fixed on Nyros.
Nyros turned to the knight.
"Put that away."
"But—"
"Put it away."
The soldier looked at his captain.
"Do as he says."
The blade slid back into its scabbard, but the pressure did not disappear. The knight could only straighten his back slightly. Nyros raised his head.
"Hey, up there! The captain's alive!"
There was no answer. Tharion looked back at the captain and held his gaze. The pressure intensified. Beside a shop, the merchant holding his shutter half-closed dropped to one knee. The woman hiding inside hunched over her child as the wood groaned above them. Nyros spread his feet to keep his balance, his injured shoulder lower than the other.
"Come down."
A small figure appeared behind Tharion. Thalen landed on the inner edge of the window frame. His talons clicked twice against the stone before he looked at Tharion, then down at the street below.
"Tharion."
Tharion did not react. Thalen turned his head toward the shop. A child's muffled cry rose between the buildings.
"You're crushing the entire street. The townspeople. The children too."
Tharion kept his eyes fixed on the captain.
"I'm not asking you to calm down," Thalen continued. "I'm only asking you to hold back. They haven't done anything to you."
At last, Tharion followed his gaze. He saw the merchant on his knees, the mother curled over her child, and the knights fighting simply to breathe. His right hand remained clenched for one more second before opening.
The pressure vanished all at once. The hanging sign swung backward with a sharp snap of its chain. The knight inhaled so suddenly that he coughed, and the merchant caught himself against the edge of his doorway. Tharion looked at Thalen. The cross in his eyes dimmed slightly but did not disappear. Then he stepped away from the window.
"So you're Tharion…" Nyros called before he could vanish completely.
Tharion stopped and turned his head slightly.
Nyros studied the luminous cross in his irises, then the cracked stones around the window.
"The hero from the prophecy. The one with a cross in his eyes."
Tharion stared at him for another second without answering, then disappeared into the building.
One of the knights stepped back. Nyros raised a hand.
"Nobody move."
Footsteps echoed through the stairwell, slow and evenly spaced. Nyros listened as they came closer. He exhaled through his nose and finally lowered his hand.
"Good sign."
The captain turned to him.
"You consider that a good sign?"
Nyros gestured toward the window with his chin.
"Compared to how you came down? An excellent sign."
The large door opened a few moments later. Tharion appeared at the top of the steps. A vein pulsed at his temple. His fingers were still trembling. His breathing had slowed, but every so often, he had to open his mouth to catch it. The skin around his eyes was red. His gaze moved across the knights, stopped on Nyros, then found the captain.
Thalen left the window with a beat of his wings and descended along the building. He landed on a stone post at the foot of the steps, between Tharion and the street. Tharion glanced at him before beginning his descent. With each step he took, one of the knights either moved back or shifted his weight. When he reached the cobblestones, the soldier holding the captain tightened his grip.
"Tharion… I thought I was protecting the kingdom."
"Not now."
The last word frayed in his throat. Tharion stopped a few steps away. His right hand closed against his coat, but he looked down at his fingers and forced them open again.
"I only want you to listen to me," the captain insisted.
Tharion gave a short, humorless laugh.
"I needed that too."
The captain parted his lips.
Tharion cut him off.
"Before all of you condemned me."
"You can speak when I'm able to listen without killing you."
The captain closed his mouth. Nyros moved between the two men without turning his back entirely on Tharion.
"I think you two have talked enough for one day."
Tharion studied his position, then his face.
"Are you protecting him?"
"I'm keeping him alive until he answers me."
"What questions?"
Nyros looked at the captain over his shoulder. The injured man stopped pulling at the fabric of his uniform.
"Mine."
The silence that followed felt different. The knights were still watching Tharion, but he was focused on only one thing now: the shadow lying motionless beneath Nyros's boots.
"I knew your name from the War of the Broken Oaths," he said. "Not your face."
Nyros turned toward him.
"Now you have both."
"The hero from the other prophecy."
Nyros's smile almost disappeared.
One of Thalen's talons tapped softly against the stone post.
"Wrong word."
"I know," Tharion answered without looking at him.
"Nyros is enough. Prophecies have already made enough choices for both of us."
For the first time since leaving the building, Tharion looked at Nyros without trying to see the captain behind him. The cross in his irises flickered faintly. Thalen remained still on his perch, his head tilted slightly toward them.
"I imagined you differently," Tharion finally said.
"Better?"
"Quieter."
One corner of Nyros's mouth rose. He opened it to answer, but Tharion raised a finger before he could.
"Nyros."
"What?"
"Shut up."
Nyros's smile widened.
"Ah."
"What is 'ah' supposed to mean?"
"This one isn't bad. It means you're insulting me again."
His eyes briefly moved over the cross still visible in Tharion's eyes.
"That's better than silence."
Tharion narrowed his eyes. The light within them flickered again, then he exhaled sharply through his nose.
"I really am going to hit you."
"There we go."
The young knight stepped forward to intervene. The captain blocked him with his good hand. His eyes remained fixed on Tharion's hand, still open against his coat. The soldier tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword again, making the leather groan beneath his fingers. He hesitated, then stepped back. Only then did the captain return his hand to his shoulder and let his companion take more of his weight.
Nyros's smile lingered for a few seconds before disappearing. He slowly turned back to the captain.
"We weren't finished."
"I already told you—"
"You told me about Tharion."
The shadow beneath Nyros's boots thickened without spreading. His voice did not change.
"Now we're going to talk about Arzyel."
The captain's fingers stopped moving. Tharion turned his head toward him. On his stone perch, Thalen spread his wings slightly.
Nyros was no longer smiling.