The last person I remember seeing there was Enginn, his normally grim and brutish face slack, submissive. I wanted nothing more than to shout to him, see again the wild glint in his eyes as he rose up to find dying Mazgo and run to safety with me. It pained me to think that even if all this were possible, our friends may not have even had the strength to make it out of the caves. Mazgo had treated me well enough, and Enginn didn’t know any better—They did not deserve this fate.
I do not think Kwasi could see the tears in my eyes as we walked back to Northreach-or perhaps he did, and let me feel strong and stoic. We headed to the noble district to return the skulls of the children we had meant to rescue. Their parents wept, whether in fear or sadness I will never know. Still, it is no matter—I now know what it means to ache for the dead.