NOVEL NEXT 129. Steps Of The Living
The flash of azure engulfed the men on the platform. Voices entered their ears from all directions, yet Tucker couldn't bring himself to look up. His eyes remained fixed on the ground, and every muscle in his body told him that he needed to go back. Back to the bastion to save his friend, his brother.
Yet the world wouldn't allow it. The runes on the teleportation platform pulsed for several breaths, and that could only mean one thing. It had lost connection to the device in the bastion. Tucker fell to his knees with his hands hitting the cold stone floor. He tightly clenched his trembling hands. There had to be something he could do to save Luka, to bring him back home.
"Commander…" Ray knelt beside him. "I'm… I'm afraid that…"
Ray struggled to put the words together, but one glare from Tucker was all he needed to stop talking. Tucker knew it wasn't possible to save Luka. This teleportation platform was a one-way trip, and they had intended to destroy the device once the last group left so that the Empire couldn't use it. Everything went according to plan. His plan. All except for one thing, and that was Luka sacrificing himself to save him.
He never wanted Luka to die on his behalf. No one should have died on his behalf. The decisions Tucker made in the bastion were his responsibility, and if anyone had to pay a price, then it should have been him. Tucker slowly closed his eyes to steady his aching heart. He stood up with Ray's support and scanned the large open chamber. Now wasn't the time for tears.
Stone arches encircled the teleportation platform on all sides, connecting with numerous levels above as men and women gazed down at the returning soldiers. Light peered down from above, bathing their figures in a soft radiance that healed their injuries. From the curious eyes, Tucker could see the disbelief written on their faces. No one had expected them to return. For good reason too… They were left for dead to buy time so the rest of their forces could escape.
Thousands of enemy soldiers had them surrounded in the prison of their castle. Knights from different orders stormed their ranks, and the Empire's war machine carved out a path to the very heart of their home. The only reason they survived was because of their tenacity. Their willpower.
Tucker stared at his brothers on the platform. They stood at attention as if waiting for his orders. He could see Wilfred and the men from the Twenty-Eighth, the knights of renown, and Thomas. All of them had been through hell. Seen the worst the world had to offer, and yet remained unbroken.
"You've all done a tremendous service to your country, and I don't have the words to describe the feats you have accomplished." Tucker moved to the side and gestured for them to take the first step. "Please, after you."
The men smiled with warm gazes. Their eyes were filled with relief knowing that after everything they had been through, they had brought their nation closer to victory. One by one, they stepped down from the platform, each thanking Tucker for what he's done. Even though Tucker didn't feel like he deserved it, he returned the gesture. Once the last soldier walked down the stairs, Ray stood forth and held out his hand.
"Luka was a damn good friend," Ray said softly. "I'm not any good at these conversations… but if you need someone to listen, I'm all yours."
A small smile formed at the corner of Tucker's lips as he firmly clasped the outstretched hand. "Thanks, but for now I'm good. I just want some peace for myself, some time off."
"That's completely fine; just keep that in mind."
"I will."
Both of the men chuckled at the exchange as Ray stepped onto the stone stairs. He waved his hand to the side as if bidding farewell. But knowing Ray, Tucker would see him soon. The thought of Ray getting sent to the bastion for disobeying orders made him smirk. However, after serving with his fellow watchmen for weeks and seeing his character firsthand… it wasn't far-fetched.
Some orders just weren't worth obeying.
Tucker slowly exhaled. He found himself staring at the soldiers resting on the first floor. Hundreds were still getting their wounds tended while others quietly sobbed for those they had lost. His heart pounded in his chest as he took off his leather hat. His eyes fell on the bloodstains from his countless battles. A trace of sadness lingered for those he had lost. Those he had failed, but right now, Tucker couldn't grieve. He held it beneath his arm.
Gazes fell upon him as he descended. The soldiers who had escaped earlier quickly fell quiet one after another. Their dull armor and hollow eyes watched in silence as the man who saved them walked past. No words could describe the gratitude they felt, and what was unspoken felt heavier than mourning. Their stares carried disbelief and a single question.
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How did he endure so much when many had not?
"Commander Welford."
The voice drew his attention to the side. Tucker glanced back over to see that the figures of his men had long vanished. His gaze drifted to Reynold and Carl, who were awaiting him. The father-son duo saluted Tucker as he stopped in front of them, beneath the magic lanterns that lit their figures.
"It's a relief to see you back in one piece," Carl said. "When my rascal son told me he made you and your men stay behind, I was beyond furious."
"I didn't make him—"
"Enough." Carl's voice stopped Reynold dead in his tracks. "I have always taught you to lead your men from the front. That you are supposed to be their shield, yet I find out you ran? It's one thing to give command away, but another to turn your back on your comrades."
Tucker watched as Reynold lowered his head in shame. The agony hidden in his eyes was a torment Tucker knew all too well. He shut his eyes while taking a deep breath. A towering figure surfaced from the depths of his memory. One he never wanted to remember. The man's short hazel hair and a beard that covered his hardened jawline stood before him. That piercing glare, heavy with disappointment and regret, burned itself across Tucker's childhood.
And the words uttered from his mouth were ones no child should have to hear: You're such a worthless child. You never should have been born.
Yet in Carl's eyes weren't the same emotions his father had shown. Warmth existed in his gaze, one that was hard to understand. The former commander was a man of principles, a leader who held firm to his beliefs and simply wished for his son to follow in his footsteps. But such things were always harder to convey.
"I just… I just wanted to make sure I could see you again," Reynold whispered. "Was that so wrong?"
Carl froze once he heard his son's words. His mouth opened, then closed as he pressed his palms over his eyes. A long, unsteady breath escaped his lips, but emotions couldn't control his actions. They were a military family that walked alongside death, and abandoning your comrades who relied on you was frowned upon by tradition alone.
But before he could speak, Tucker opened his mouth. "I asked him to give us his authority. Well… asked is a strong word because in such a situation, he wasn't given much of a choice."
Carl lowered his hand as he furrowed his brow. "You told him to give you his authority?"
"That's right. Your son didn't run away—he planned to stay. But after the incident with Advisor Nox, there wasn't much of a choice left. The men wouldn't listen to him."
"What happened to Advisor Nox?"
Reynold's voice answered, heavy with grief. "He was one of the advisors who betrayed the nation. The plan to hold the enemy forces at the fourth bastion was a trap to weaken our forces. They wanted to draw our attention to the opening and destroy the teleportation platforms within the castle."
Carl stood there in disbelief, but the sorrow in Reynold 's tone was one he knew far too well. He had been unconscious since his battle with the enemy general, only waking up a few moments ago. But once he heard that Tucker had been given the golden badge, that his men were the vanguard for their retreat. He immediately rushed to the platform, desperate to return to the bastion.
Yet, his efforts were in vain. His own officers barred him from leaving.
Carl lowered his head. "What happened to Nox… is he dead?"
Tucker shook his head. "He escaped, but we've uncovered their next plans and sent word to the strategists within the Kingdom. It's up to them as to what happens next."
"I see…" Carl slowly exhaled and raised his hand to the side of his temple. "Understood, Commander Welford. Thank you for your efforts. Without you, many of us would've met our end in Stafford."
Tucker returned the gesture before cutting down his arm. He glanced at Reynold and soon sighed. "Commander Cronia, with all due respect, but you should cut your son some slack."
Carl focused on him, waiting for him to finish.
"After my time in Stafford, I've realised that many fathers will be grieving their children. Many children will mourn their parents. It's best to treasure each other while you still have the chance." Tucker gave a firm nod to Reynold. "You may not be the best, but at least you got heart."
And with those words, Tucker patted Reynold's shoulder and walked past the man he once despised. To say that all of his anger had vanished would have been a lie. There was still some lingering spite within his heart, but after losing Luka, a part of him died inside. Sorrow filled his heart. He told Reynold that he could've stopped his best friend if Luka had betrayed them, but the truth was far different.
And now, with no time to grieve, he carried that loss in silence. To break down and cry in front of all those who followed him was something he couldn't do. He needed to be their anchor. Their pillar of support in their time of need, and he could only do so by being composed.
His back remained straight as each step echoed through the chamber. But his steps weren't in triumph—only a remembrance of those who had fallen. Those who didn't make it. As Tucker walked down the marble tiles that stretched to the outer doors, several silhouettes entered his vision. He continued down the path, his eyes drifting to the side until Alfred's figure stood there at attention. Then came the other members of the Thirty-First. The archers who held the rooftops, the men trapped in the storage building, and finally Nemo, who perished near the final moments of the siege, against the Empire's war machine.
Soldiers he didn't deserve to lead but was given the opportunity to stood along the path. Their spirits watched him with eyes filled with relief, knowing that their captain had made it. That Tucker had survived the massacre at the bastion. And seeing this, Tucker gave a subtle nod, holding back his tears. He didn't know if it was an illusion, but it didn't matter. Since the golden light radiating from their presence was enough for him to know. That this was their final farewell.