85 Confession

The moonlight danced through the trees and caused a faint glow in the garden beyond. It was silent here, deep in the forest nothing made a sound, for this land was filled with unease. In the backyard of a little abandoned cottage, a man sat, leaning back against the stone.

His eyes were closed, it being so late one could imagine he was fast asleep. His chiseled chin and warm light tan skin glowed in the soft rays that filtered down to him. His black hair pulled into a high ponytail falling over the back of the stone he leaned on. In his hand was a cup and beside him a bottle.

His stormy blue eyes opened lazily as he stared up at the little of the sky he could see here. Verone's heart heavy as the scene replayed over and over in his mind. Her dangling in that tree. How many times he wished he had stayed and fought to free her. His biggest regret was following orders. His lips parted as he sighed.

"I know you're disappointed in me, Old friend. How could I be so careless. She warned me… he wasn't ready. Now...now she's gone and I can only pray she's okay." Verone whispered, his voice rough with the emotions he has been holding inside. He took another swig of his drink, still focused on the stars. "What makes it worse is some people think I did it on purpose. They think I wanted her position… what a joke. If it wasn't for her I would have left this clan years ago." he shook his head. The silence never responded but… the words needed to be said. If for no other reason, so they would stop bouncing around his head and paining his heart.

The only answer he received was the soft caress of the wind dancing through the garden. The shadows seemed to close in and blanket him at first. Moments passed and he began to wonder if the drink was getting to his mind.

When he glanced at the stone beside him, he saw a shadow beside him. A familiar silhouette that he hadn't seen in years. For a moment he thought he saw familiar face turned to him a cracked a soft smile. Phantom hand reached out and tousled his hair, or at least for a moment it felt like old times. It must have been a trick of the wind. 'Yeah that's it, the wind.' he thought as a odd calm began flooding through his system.

His breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep next to the stone. Kendrick sighed as he watched the troubled boy sleep. How he wished he could tell the boy it wasn't his fault. He did his best... Kyera was a woman of her own mind. A protector of her people as they had taught her to be.

"You know father will be angry?" Keenan pointed out appearing at Verone's other side. His shadowy form acted as a protective frame as he leaned back looking up at the sky. It had long ceased to be odd to sit so close to their once living bodies. Kendrick shook his head slowly, glancing at his brother with a eyebrow arched.

"No, If I am to be completely honest, I never realized you had come to begin with. I heard his confession and figured someone should be here to hear it. We owe him that much." Keenan replied and the bothers both looked at Verone sleeping between them, sadness drifting in small waves from their spiritual forms.

"We left him a mess, didn't we?" Kendrick asked with a shake of his head, and Keenan nodded.