Shadows of Demise (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 3)

Chapter One

"I don't mean to scare you by saying any of this, but I need to share this with someone."

Rowan's eyes widened as she turned her head and faced him. Her plump cheeks were red from her time spent in the sun all day, nearly matching the color of her hair. Her aunt would likely lecture her about this once they returned to Salus. And knowing this, Ashton realized having this serious conversation was perhaps not the wisest thing to do. He didn't underestimate her wisdom or ability to handle so much information at once. However, she was still a child, and all children deserved some peace. They deserved as much of it as they could have. Because one day they'd blink and be adults burdened by responsibilities they never asked for.

Still, he needed to tell someone about the letter. Sleep would become an even more difficult feat if he didn't.

"What's wrong, Uncle Ashton?" she asked.

He briefly closed his eyes and reached into his back pocket. He kept his eyes closed as he clutched the folded parchment in front of him. Then he inhaled and faced her.

"I know we've discussed the war happening in Starset and Sinstiel before. What we have not truly discussed yet is... my past." Ashton held the letter against his chest and swallowed hard. "I used to be a knight who served the royal family. If I had never left, I would've been fighting in this war right now. I've lost countless nights of sleep thinking about this. I feel guilty for leaving my comrades behind. I've considered going back, but I worried I would not be welcomed."

Rowan pointed at the letter. "So, what's that?"

Ashton blinked. She seemed quite unfazed by everything else he'd said. Her curiosity had focused solely on this taunting letter and it knew no bounds. He set it down on his lap and lowered his shoulders, afraid to unfold it and confront the words scribbled across. It'd been written in a rush. He imagined the sender's hand trembling as the quill was repeatedly dipped into the inkwell. Many of the words were smeared, but he still understood everything. And he wished he couldn't, so he could feign ignorance.

"They've asked for my help, Rowan," Ashton whispered, finally unfolding the parchment. He cleared his throat a few times and read. "Ash, I am sorry to disturb you. I know it has been nearly five years and I have not written you in so long. The last thing I mentioned to you was that your mother and sisters were living in the manor, and that Ailith was still training. I want to start now by informing you of their safety. And I am sorry to tell you that, for us here in the capital, we've suffered immensely. I've had to bury many soldiers. Many of whom you may remember. I don't wish to take you away from your solitude, but I'm desperate. I need you."

Ashton eyed the name on the bottom right corner.

Richard.

The plan—the original plan—was for Ashton to escape from the castle. To run away from what he'd done to his captain. Richard—sweet Richard who was too good for Ashton—would do his best to get rid of Franco so Ashton could safely return.

Except Ashton had made other plans. He was supposed to hide in Salus for the time being, and then leave Aristol altogether. Then days kept passing instead, and he fell into a routine with the villagers. He yearned to write to his mother, but he feared the letter getting lost or into the wrong hands and having his whereabouts discovered. So, he stayed silent with a hope he would see them again, sooner rather than later.

Then, one night, they were abruptly awoken to an attack.

Ashton immediately recognized the attackers. They were from the same group Julian was apart of, and he didn't hesitate to take down as many as he could. When it was over, Ashton heard Mayra scream and rushed to her side as she hovered over a particular body. She couldn't speak. She just sputtered and pointed at the dead woman. And it merely took one glance at the woman's shade of red hair for Ashton to realize who she was. It was the same shade as Mayra's and her mother's. It ran in the family. So, he knew—without a doubt—this woman had been Mayra's sister.