Page 7 of A Simple Truth

But I was wrong.

“Come on.” Xentar patted me on my shoulder, pulling me from my frozen astonishment as I shut my gaping mouth.

A group of kids of various ages ran across my path, screaming out the General's name with glee.

Children...

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling in the moment, other than speechless.

So many of them.

So manyof them. Some could not have been more than four years of age, while others looked to be in their teens.

“Sparks! Sparks! Sparks!” a group of the younger kids chanted as the General stopped to greet them.

“Okay, but only if you promise to eat all of your dinner tonight!” He smiled. His hand moved, releasing a stream of silver, fiery sparks into the air. It was as if he had gifted them their own little starfall that lit up the cloudy, gray sky.

“Again! Again! Again!” they squealed as the sparks slowly vanished; a command Gideon gladly obeyed.

Xentar leaned to me to whisper, as I stood there, still flabbergasted.

“Just so we are clear, these are the kids that theso-called monsterdefiled.”

“How?”I finally managed to say after a moment of stunned silence, as the dissonance of my thoughts and feelings crashed together.

“People don’t often look for bodies that were turned to ash.” Xentar shrugged, serene delight filling up his face as he watched kids jump, trying to catch the sparks.

“For how long?” I didn’t even attempt to hide the disbelief in my voice as I tried to count the people, the houses.Hundreds. There had to be hundreds of them here.

“Since he was fifteen,” Xentar answered me, while smiling in greeting at a gorgeous redhead walking past us. He then added, “You know, he was going to bring you here too, had you not run away that day.”

A safe haven. All this time.

“Gideon? Zora?” A concerned female voice sounded from behind, pulling me out of my stupor. I sharply turned to see a beautiful woman with a large, round belly approach us, carrying a weaving basket full of fresh laundry on her hip.

“Ophelia...” The General straightened up, passing the kids from his arms into the hands of the caretaker. With a heavy look on his face, he made his way through the herd of riled-up kids, closer to Ophelia. “We need to talk.”

I could not have been more amazed by the beauty of the village as we followed Ophelia towards a small house down the narrow, pebbled path. Yet, those thoughts quieted as we approached her home. The heirloom ring in my hand suddenly felt too heavy to bear, as if it were a hefty stone, dragging me deep beneath the water.

The inside of her house was simple and cozy—a neat, tiny kitchen with a wood stove, a small washroom, and one bedroom that also served as a living room. While the house itself was smaller than my room in Priya’s manor, the gorgeous murals of winged creatures amidst the endless wheat fields painted on the white walls left me breathless.

Yet, none of it could ever lessen the feeling of the shattering heartache as my eyes took in the little bassinet in the corner, carved out of light oak and accented by a few neatly-folded, crocheted blankets. The ring now felt like a sharp dagger, one that I was about to plunge straight into her heart.

“Is everything alright? Is Kaius okay?” Ophelia asked, taking a seat on one of the chairs by the tiny table. Her face was laced with concern and worry, making my chest squeeze painfully tight.

“Ophelia, I am so sorry, but Kaius died,” Gideon softly spoke as he knelt by her chair, gently grasping her hand.

“No…” She brought her other hand to her mouth as tears started rolling down her face. The news obliterated the last embers of the hope she kept.

Nothing could ever prepare you for the brute force of grief as it suffocated the life out of your body, your mind, your soul. “No, I…” Ophelia struggled.

“He was killed by the Royals, bravely fighting for what he believed in until the very last breath,” Zora whispered with deep compassion in her voice, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The silver streaks turned into painful sobs as she covered her face with both hands and cried. I swallowed hard, fighting the heavy lump growing in my throat as my own tears fought to the surface.

“I…no.. Kaius…but our son...I…” Words, mixed with raw grief, poured out with her cries.

“I am so sorry, Ophelia,” Orest said, as he passed her a white handkerchief.

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