Chapter Text
The report arrived just before sunset. Illuga had been halfway through reviewing patrol schedules when hurried footsteps echoed through the Great Mead Hall. Egle appeared moments later, breathing hard from the speed of her run.
"Captain." Illuga immediately looked up. "Wild Hunt activity has been confirmed near the northern cliffs."
The room instantly became quieter. Several nearby Lightkeepers paused what they were doing. Illuga set the report he was reading aside.
"Large horde. Bigger than usual."
That was enough to make Illuga stand immediately.
"Get Anleifr and Rollon. We're leaving in five minutes."
Egle nodded and hurried away. Around him, the rest of his team exploded into motion. Chairs scraped against metal floors, and weapons were gathered. Illuga reached for his coat automatically. The familiar weight of responsibility settled over his shoulders.
A large Wild Hunt horde couldn't be ignored. If it reached nearby settlements before being intercepted, civilians would die. Entire patrols could disappear.
He wasn't going to allow that.
As he fastened the last protector on his knee, a voice spoke from the doorway.
"You're leaving already?"
Illuga glanced up. Nikita stood there holding several documents. His father looked unsurprised.
"I just received a report about the Wild Hunt."
Nikita hummed. "I figured."
Illuga adjusted his gloves. "I'll retrieve the reports from the Knights of Favonius outpost on the way."
The words had barely left his mouth before Nikita shook his head. "No need."
Illuga paused. His father stepped inside, showing him the documents in his hands.
"Lohen already delivered them this afternoon."
Illuga felt his heartbeat stumble. Lohen. For some reason, lately, everything seemed to circle back to him. His voice. His laughter. His irritating habit of treating every life-threatening situation like a personal hobby. His stupid smile. His stupid eyes. His stupid—
Illuga immediately cut off the thought.
There was a Wild Hunt horde moving through northern territory. People could die. This wasn't the time.
Nikita continued speaking, oblivious to the chaos unfolding inside his son. "He dropped off the reports, accepted a bottle of wine, then left."
Illuga could practically picture it. Lohen grinning shamelessly while accepting the gift. Probably already halfway through drinking it before he'd even reached the gates. The image appeared so clearly that warmth bloomed unexpectedly inside his chest, which was a problem. Because these feelings weren't supposed to exist.
Lohen was simply someone he'd met. A reckless knight from Mondstadt. A man who constantly frustrated him.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
And yet lately, somehow his attention always found him first. Illuga would notice when that loud laugh appeared somewhere in a crowd. He would notice when several days passed without seeing him. He noticed how much easier it had become to recognize his footsteps. How naturally his eyes searched for teal hair among groups of people. How often he found himself wondering where Lohen was.
What he was doing. Whether he was injured. Whether he was eating properly.
Whether he was—
Illuga physically tightened the strap on his glove harder than necessary.
Enough.
The Wild Hunt. Focus on the Wild Hunt. Focus on his team. Focus on literally anything else.
He gave Nikita a brief nod. "Understood."
Then turned before his father could notice anything unusual. Nikita watched him for a second. A knowing look briefly crossed his face.
Thankfully, he said nothing. "Don't do anything reckless."
Illuga sighed. "You're saying that to the wrong person."
Nikita laughed. "I'm saying it because you're going after the same Wild Hunt horde Lohen probably went looking for."
Illuga froze. His stomach dropped. Of course, Lohen would investigate it. The vice captain practically hunted danger for recreation. A knot formed uncomfortably in Illuga's chest.
"Right," he said quietly.
Then he left.
The cold air outside should have helped; usually, it did. The sharp winds of Nod-Krai had a way of forcing thoughts into order. Not today. As he crossed toward the assembled Nightmare Orioles, his mind kept circling back.
Lohen.
Was he already fighting the Wild Hunt? Probably.
Had he gone alone? Definitely.
Was he injured? Almost certainly.
Illuga clenched his jaw. Focus, damnit.
Rollon was checking supplies. Anleifr was arguing with Egle about something meaningless. The squad needed their captain's attention.
Not whatever this was. Illuga forced himself toward them. Immediately, everyone straightened. The familiar routine helped. The more information he processed, the easier it became to push Lohen aside.
At least temporarily. For nearly twenty minutes, he succeeded. Then someone mentioned the northern cliffs.
And his thoughts immediately betrayed him again. Because the northern cliffs were exactly the sort of place Lohen would choose.
It was remote, dangerous, and far from immediate backup. A place where nobody would stop him from doing something reckless.
Illuga frowned.
"Captain?" Rollon's voice pulled him back.
He blinked. "What?"
"You've been staring at the map."
Illuga cleared his throat. "Continue."
Rollon exchanged a brief look with Anleifr, but thankfully didn't comment. The briefing resumed. He listened, or at least he tried.
Because beneath every strategic consideration lurked the same irritating thought.
Maybe he'll be at the outpost.
The realization annoyed him immediately.
Because it was ridiculous. Lohen barely returned to base. The Knights of Favonius outpost was nothing more than a convenient place to receive treatment before he inevitably disappeared again. Half the time, he seemed to sleep in forests, abandoned camps, cliffsides, or wherever else happened to be nearby.
The chances of finding him there were low, very low. Practically nonexistent.
Yet the thought persisted.
Maybe he'll be there.
Maybe he got injured.
Maybe he's receiving treatment.
Maybe—
Illuga immediately shut the thought down. He didn't need to see Lohen. There was no reason to. None. The reports had already been delivered.
The mission came first. His squad came first. The civilians came first. Everything else came first.
And yet...
The knot in his chest remained. Because if Lohen really had gone after the Wild Hunt alone, Illuga knew exactly what that meant.
Every time they met, Lohen seemed covered in fresh injuries. New cuts. New bruises. New scars.
As though his body was slowly being chipped apart piece by piece. And somehow he always smiled through it, laughed through it, acted as if none of it mattered.
The memory made something uncomfortable twist inside him. Because Illuga had spent years watching people die. He knew what fear looked like. What pain looked like. What desperation looked like.
And sometimes when Lohen smiled, Illuga saw something that frightened him far more. Someone who simply didn't care whether he survived. The thought left a sour feeling in his stomach.
No.
Maybe he was overthinking.
Maybe Lohen was perfectly fine.
Maybe he was sitting somewhere drinking that wine right now.
Maybe he wasn't bleeding.
Maybe he wasn't fighting.
Maybe—
Who was Illuga kidding? The man was absolutely fighting something. Probably multiple somethings. Possibly while drunk.
Illuga rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. Why was he worrying so much? Lohen wasn't his responsibility. Wasn't part of his squad. Wasn't his subordinate. Wasn't his family.
Wasn't—
The answer arrived before he could finish the thought. Because he cared.
He cared.
And no amount of denial seemed capable of changing that. The realization settled heavily in his chest as the Nightmare Orioles finally assembled near the road upward.
Weapons secured, supplies prepared, ready to move.
Illuga took one final look over the group. His people. The people he was responsible for bringing home alive. The people who trusted him. That was what mattered.
That was where his attention belonged. Not on some reckless knight from Mondstadt.
Not on teal hair.
Not on stupid smiles.
Not on warm laughter.
Not on—
"Captain?"
Egle's voice interrupted him again. Illuga blinked.
"Ready?" She smiled.
He exhaled slowly and forced every wandering thought back into its cage. "Ready."
The Nightmare Orioles began moving. And despite every effort he made to think about literally anything else, one final thought lingered stubbornly in the back of Illuga's mind.
Please be at the outpost.
Just this once.
Be there.
So Illuga could see for himself that Lohen was alive. Then he could stop worrying. Then he could focus properly.
Then all these ridiculous thoughts would finally disappear.
At least, that was what he told himself as he led the squad north.
.
.
.
The northern winds were vicious that evening. Illuga moved quickly across the cold landscape. His squad fanned out around him. Tracks had already been found. Evidence that the Wild Hunt had passed through recently. The horde was somewhere nearby.
"We'll split up," Illuga ordered. His team immediately nodded. "Report immediately if you find anything. Do not engage on your own."
Within minutes, the group separated. Illuga continued alone. The silence settled heavily around him. Only wind accompanied his footsteps now. For a while, nothing happened. Then he smelled it. Blood.
Illuga stopped immediately. The scent was faint. But it was there, fresh enough to linger. His heartbeat quickened.
"Lohen already delivered them this afternoon."
Nikita's words resurfaced. A strange feeling twisted in Illuga's chest.
No. He was being ridiculous.
There were countless reasons blood could be here. Wildlife, previous skirmishes, other patrols. The scent didn't automatically mean—
His feet were already moving faster. The wind shifted again, and the smell grew stronger. Illuga's grip tightened around his lantern.
No.
Not him.
The thought appeared immediately.
Not Lohen.
His pace increased. The scent grew heavier. And despite every logical explanation he could think of, despite telling himself over and over that there was no reason to worry, Illuga couldn't stop seeing teal hair. Couldn't stop imagining reckless laughter. Couldn't stop remembering an annoyingly handsome knight who smiled at danger like it was an old friend.
His stomach twisted harder.
Please don't let it be him.
The prayer came before he realized he was making one. And then Illuga broke into a run.
The edge of the cliff came into view. And there he was. Illuga stopped breathing for a second. Lohen sat at the very edge of the cliff like he belonged there, legs hanging over empty air, body drenched in blood. Burn marks crawled over his exposed skin. His uniform was ruined. One wrong shift of balance and he would disappear into the abyss below.
Something sharp and terrified clawed through Illuga’s chest.
“Lohen!”
The name tore out of him before he could stop it. Lohen glanced over his shoulder, expression already shifting into that familiar grin Illuga had begun to despise, because it hid too much.
Relief should have come first; instead, anger came. Because this was exactly the sort of thing Lohen would do. Because Illuga knew that look. The terrifying thing was that he knew it because he had seen it before. Not only in Lohen.
In himself.
He buried the thought immediately, like he always did.
“Well,” Lohen called, voice rough with exhaustion, “if it isn’t my favorite birdie.”
Illuga barely heard the teasing. All he could see was blood. The burns looked severe. His breathing was uneven. One of his gloves was practically soaked crimson. There was dried blood near his mouth, too. Lohen should not have been conscious.
Illuga moved toward him immediately, pulse hammering harder the closer he got. Then he saw the broken bottle still clutched loosely in his hand. And dread flooded him whole.
“You’re—” Illuga cut himself off, jaw locking painfully tight as his eyes scanned every visible wound. “You need a medic. Now.”
Lohen shrugged lazily.
“I’m heading back to the Knights of Favonius outpost anyway,” he said lightly. “They’ll patch me up. No need for you to fuss. No need for you to get your feathers ruffled.”
“Feathers—?” Illuga stepped closer, anger finally breaking through the fear strangling him. “You’re covered in blood, Lohen. You can barely hold yourself upright.”
“Barely’s still good enough.”
“Lohen.”
The name came out harsher than intended. Because he was scared. Because every time he saw Lohen like this, something deep inside him remembered every body he had failed to save. Every hand that had slipped from his grasp. Every teammate who had not come home.
The vice captain tilted his head slightly, watching him with those awful bright eyes, and Illuga felt suddenly exposed beneath them.
Why did this man keep doing this to himself?
Why did he keep smiling while bleeding out?
Why did he keep looking at death like it was a lover waiting patiently for him?
Illuga’s stomach twisted. He was tired of finding people too late.
“Ah, my little birdie,” Lohen murmured. “Always so desperate to keep everyone alive.”
“That’s called doing my job.”
“Is it? Or is it because you’re afraid of what happens when you don’t?”
Illuga froze, the words landing too close to places he refused to look at.
“Tell me,” he continued, voice deceptively light, “how many did you lose before you decided no one else was allowed to die around you? How many slipped through your fingers while you were trying so hard to save them?”
“Stop.”
“How many names do you still remember?”
“I said stop.”
“Or do you just see their faces when you close your eyes?”
“LOHEN.”
The name cracked out of him. The faces never really left. He remembered all of them. Every single one.
Every body he failed to reach in time. Every teammate who stopped moving in his arms. Every civilian who looked relieved when they saw him, only to die seconds later anyway. The ones he could have reached if he had been faster.
Stronger. Better.
Sometimes, during sleepless nights, he wondered how long he could keep carrying them before something inside him finally collapsed. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he simply stopped trying. And every time those thoughts surfaced, he buried them beneath duty.
Duty was easier. Duty gave meaning to the recklessness. Duty made it look noble.
He hated that Lohen could see straight through him. But worse was the realization that Lohen was provoking him on purpose. Like he wanted Illuga angry. Like he wanted Illuga to hate him.
And Illuga couldn’t understand why. Then he looked closer.
The smile. The exhaustion beneath it. The emptiness in his eyes. The way he sat at the edge was as if he’d already decided something.
“…Why are you like this today?” Illuga asked quietly. “You’re worse than usual.”
For a moment, Lohen’s grin faltered.
“Worse?” he echoed.
Illuga stared at him. Then it clicked into place so suddenly that it made him feel sick.
“You’re spiraling,” Illuga said.
The reaction was immediate and tiny. Something in Lohen recoiled violently.
Illuga’s chest tightened. He saw it. Because he recognized it. Because he had spent years hiding the exact same thing behind duty, responsibility, and endless missions.
“Yes,” Illuga continued carefully, stepping closer. “This isn’t just you being reckless. You’re pushing harder than usual. You’re trying to provoke something.”
Lohen laughed softly. “And you’re trying to fix it. See? We’re both predictable.”
“That’s not the same thing.
“It is.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Because it couldn't be. If it was the same, then what did that say about him?
Lohen sighed. “You throw yourself into danger too, birdie. Difference is, you wrap it up in something noble.”
Illuga's jaw tightened. “I do it to protect my team.”
“And I do it because it’s fun.”
“Don’t lie.”
The answer came instantly. Because Illuga knew what a lie sounded like. He heard one every morning when he looked into a mirror.
Lohen smiled. “Fine. Maybe there’s more to it.”
Illuga’s stomach sank.
No.
No, no, no.
Don’t say it like that.
Don’t sound so tired.
“You think I don’t see it? The way you fight? The way you push yourself past reason?” His gaze darkened. “You’re just better at pretending it’s for someone else.”
Illuga wanted to argue. Wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell Lohen he was wrong. But there was a reason those words hurt. Because sometimes, Illuga wondered whether he truly wanted to survive all those impossible battles. Or whether he simply no longer cared if he did. There were moments he wondered whether he deserved to survive when others didn’t.
“No. You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Because I don’t want to die.”
The lie came automatically. So automatically that for half a second, even Illuga almost believed it. Then Lohen looked directly at him.
“…Liar.”
Illuga flinched. Because a part of him knew. A part of him had always known. He did not actively seek death. But he welcomed danger far too easily. Accepted impossible odds too readily. Sacrificed himself without hesitation.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Lohen saw it.
“Face it, birdie,” he said softly. “You just dress it up nicer than I do.”
Before Illuga could answer, Lohen leaned backward. For a single horrifying moment, Illuga saw exactly what Lohen intended. And beneath the panic came another realization.
If their positions were reversed— If it had been Illuga on that cliff—
Would he have stepped back? Would he have reached for life? Or would he have kept falling?
The answer terrified him.
“Lohen!”
He moved before the thought finished. Because whatever was wrong with him, whatever darkness he carried, whatever part of him quietly wished for rest—
He could not watch Lohen disappear.
His hands caught fabric. Caught skin. Caught him.
The impact nearly tore Illuga's arms from their sockets. For one sickening moment, both of them slid toward the edge together. Loose stones broke free beneath their weight, disappearing into the darkness below. Then Illuga twisted violently, throwing every ounce of strength into dragging Lohen back onto solid ground.
They crashed hard. Pain shot through Illuga's shoulder, but he barely felt it.
Because Lohen was still here. Alive and breathing. Illuga's grip tightened instinctively around his collar.
“You—what the hell is wrong with you?!” The words ripped themselves free before he could stop them. “Have you lost your mind?!”
His voice cracked. The anger came because terror had nowhere else to go. Because Illuga had genuinely thought he was going to watch Lohen die.
And he couldn't bear it. Not after all the others, not after every face he still remembered, not after spending years trying to save people.
Lohen blinked up at him. Neither of them moved. Then something warm slid down Illuga's face. His breath caught.
No.
Not now.
Not in front of him.
Another tear followed, then another. The realization filled him with humiliation.
He was crying.
He couldn't remember the last time it had happened in front of another person. Not since he was a child. Not since he still believed tears could bring people back.
But the moment he had seen Lohen leaning backward, something inside him had simply broken.
Lohen blinked up at him dazedly. Then, slowly raised a trembling hand and brushed at Illuga’s tears.
“…Hey,” he murmured softly.
The gentleness nearly destroyed him. Blood smeared across Illuga’s cheek where Lohen touched him. Another tear fell. Lohen wiped that away too. He stared at him. At the blood. At the gentleness. At the way this idiot was comforting him after trying to throw himself off a cliff.
The unfairness of it made his chest ache.
His hand tightened in Lohen’s collar.
“Don’t do that again,” Illuga said shakily. “Do you hear me? Don’t you ever, ever do that again!”
Because Illuga couldn't do this. Couldn't lose another person. Couldn't lose him.
Not Lohen.
Please.
Please stop trying to die.
Please stop making me watch this happen.
Please stop looking so exhausted.
I can’t lose you too.
“Promise me,” Illuga demanded, voice breaking completely now. “Promise me you won’t do something like that again!”
The silence that followed felt endless. Illuga already knew the answer. The horrible thing was that he still asked anyway.
Because he wanted Lohen to prove him wrong.
Wanted him to choose life.
Wanted him to choose to stay.
Wanted him to choose tomorrow.
Lohen's hands rose slowly, cupping his face.
Illuga froze. The gesture was impossibly gentle compared to the blood covering those hands. Compared to the violence of everything that had happened tonight.
“You're really asking the wrong person for promises like that, birdie.”
Birdie. Normally, the nickname annoyed him. Tonight it felt unbearably fond.
Illuga shook his head. “Just say it.”
Please.
Please.
Please.
Just this once.
Just lie if you have to.
Just tell me you'll stay.
Lohen's thumbs brushed beneath his eyes. “I can't.”
The honesty hurt more than a lie would have. “Why not?!”
Lohen looked at him, and suddenly, Illuga wished he would stop. Because there was something in Lohen's eyes tonight that felt far too perceptive.
“Because you already know the answer.”
His stomach dropped.
“We're the same.”
“No, we're not—”
“We are.”
The certainty in Lohen's voice unsettled him.
“You run into death for them.” Lohen's voice was quiet. “I run into it for me.”
“That's different.”
It had to be different. It had to.
Lohen smiled. “Is it?”
Illuga's hands trembled. And he hated that Lohen noticed.
“Maybe you don't call it that,” Lohen continued. “Maybe you tell yourself it's duty. Responsibility. Protection.”
Each word landed like a knife. Because those were the exact words Illuga used. The exact excuses. The exact reasons.
“But in the end…”
Lohen's eyes softened. And suddenly, he looked exhausted. The kind Illuga recognized far too well.
“You keep putting yourself where you might not come back from.”
The words settled heavily between them. Illuga opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Because he remembered standing before impossible odds.
Remembered accepting missions others refused. Remembered thinking that if he died protecting someone, then at least his death would mean something. Remembered how easy it had been to make that choice.
How frighteningly easy.
“And I keep hoping I won't.”
Illuga's breath caught. For a second, the entire world seemed to go silent. No wind. No voices. Nothing.
Only those words.
And the terrible understanding behind them.
“We're both trying to end it,” Lohen whispered. “Whether you admit it or not.”
No.
The denial rose instantly, violently. Because Illuga didn't want to die. Didn't he?
He thought about all the missions where he never expected to return. All the moments he had thrown himself forward without hesitation. All the times he had looked at death and felt...
Nothing. No fear, only acceptance.
His chest tightened painfully.
“Captain!”
The shout shattered the moment. Illuga flinched. Reality crashed back into place. His squad. His responsibilities. The Nightmare Orioles.
“Captain!” They were getting closer. It was Egle shouting for him.
Lohen was still looking at him, waiting, seeing far too much.
Illuga looked away first. Because he couldn't bear it. Because if he kept staring, he might start asking himself questions he didn't want answered. Questions like why the thought of losing Lohen hurt more than the thought of losing himself. Questions like why he was still shaking.
He dragged a hand across his face. Wiping away tears, wiping away weakness, wiping away evidence. Then he stood, mask firmly in place.
Even though his heart still felt like it had been cracked open. Even though Lohen's words remained lodged beneath his ribs.
We're the same.
Illuga hated that those words followed him even as the footsteps of his squad approached. Because for the first time since meeting Lohen, he wasn't entirely certain he could prove him wrong.
“Captain,” Rollon said, stepping forward. “We lost them.”
Illuga forced his attention away from Lohen. It felt harder than it should have.
“Lost them?”
“The Wild Hunt,” Anleifr clarified. “Their earlier trail just... stopped. No signs of retreat. No bodies. No civilian hurt. Nothing.”
Silence followed.
Illuga stared at the three members of his squad, then at the blood covering the cliffside, then at Lohen. The realization came slowly at first, then all at once. The destroyed trails. The unnatural silence. The amount of blood covering Lohen's uniform. The injuries. The exhaustion. And the fact that he had been alone.
His stomach dropped. No. Surely not.
Lohen let out a quiet breath. A small smile appeared on his lips. That stupid smile, that infuriating smile. The one he wore whenever he thought he was being clever.
Illuga suddenly knew, and somehow that knowledge made everything worse. The idiot. The complete and utter idiot.
The Wild Hunt hadn't disappeared. Lohen had killed them. All of them. By himself. Illuga almost laughed, almost screamed, almost grabbed him and shook him until his teeth rattled. Instead, he stood frozen. Because a tiny, traitorous part of him was relieved. Relieved that Lohen was still breathing. Relieved that he had arrived before it was too late.
The realization only made him angrier. Because none of those things should have been in question.
Lohen slowly pushed himself upright; the movement looked painful. His body swayed slightly. None of his squad paid much attention to him. Their focus remained entirely on their captain.
Normally, Illuga would have appreciated that.
Tonight, he found himself watching Lohen instead. Watching the way he brushed dirt and dried blood from his uniform. Watching the way he deliberately avoided looking at him. Watching the way he turned. And started walking away.
No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing.
Something unpleasant twisted inside Illuga. Lohen had almost died. Had almost thrown himself off a cliff. Had admitted things Illuga was still trying desperately not to think about.
And now he was just... Leaving.
As though none of it mattered. As though Illuga wasn't still trying to catch his breath. As though Illuga's tears had meant nothing. As though he hadn't looked absolutely shattered when he said, And I keep hoping I won't.
The thought hurt more than it should have.
“Captain?” Anleifr sounded concerned.
Illuga realized he had been staring, so he tore his gaze away. Forced himself to focus, forced himself to become Squad Leader Illuga again.
“What direction did the trail disappear?” The question came automatically.
His squad immediately began explaining what they had found. Illuga listened, asked questions, and gave orders.
Everything he was supposed to do. But part of his mind remained elsewhere. Tracking the retreating figure moving farther and farther away.
Lohen.
It wasn't normal. None of this was normal. Not the panic, not the relief, and not the way his heart had nearly stopped when Lohen leaned backward.
“Captain?”
Illuga blinked. “Continue the search pattern. Verify the area. Then report back directly to Piramida.”
His voice sounded steady. No one questioned it, no one noticed the turmoil underneath. Years of practice had made sure of that. His squad mates nodded. They were already moving, already following orders.
And still, Illuga found himself looking across the ridge, looking for one specific person.
There, near the trees. Lohen had stopped walking. Their eyes met immediately, as if they had both been searching. Illuga hated how relieved that made him feel. Across the distance, Lohen raised one hand. A lazy wave, the kind usually reserved for casual goodbyes.
His lips moved slowly. See you next time, birdie.
The nickname shouldn't have reached him from this distance. And yet Illuga understood it perfectly. His chest tightened. For one reckless moment, he considered going after him. Considered ignoring everything else, considered dragging him to a medic personally. He wanted to stop him, to force him to stay. To make him understand.
You don't get to die.
Not if I can help it.
Not while I'm here.
Not while I still have hands capable of pulling you back.
Not while I still have breath.
He wanted to demand answers, promises, demand something.
Anything.
But Lohen turned away.
And Illuga remained where he was. Because he had responsibilities. Because he was the captain. Because people were relying on him. The same reasons, always the same reasons. The ones Lohen had thrown back in his face. Illuga hated how loudly those words echoed now. His gaze lingered on Lohen's retreating form, smaller, farther away.
Still alive. For now.
The thought sent another wave of anger through him. Not at Lohen, not entirely, but at himself. Because he understood far more than he wanted to. He remembered every reckless charge. Every battle he had entered expecting not to return from, every injury he had ignored, every time death had seemed easier than carrying another name.
And he hated that Lohen had seen it. Hated that someone had looked past the captain, past the Lightkeeper, past the excuses. And found something ugly underneath.
"We're both trying to end it."
The words refused to leave him alone.
"No," Illuga whispered under his breath.
Rollon glanced toward him. "Captain?"
Illuga straightened immediately. "Nothing."
The answer came too quickly. Because if he admitted even a little of it... If he admitted Lohen might be right, then he would have to confront things he had spent years burying. Things easier left underground. Things that whispered, maybe eternal rest wouldn't be so bad.
His jaw tightened.
No.
Lohen was wrong. He had to be wrong.
Because if he wasn't—
Then, Illuga didn't know how to save either of them.