“Last Words”

He saw Kaleb's horse tied near a small makeshift stable. He didn't think twice. He mounted, spurred the animal, and set off at a furious gallop.

"Forgive me, Kaleb," he murmured to the wind, guilt gnawing at him, but the urgency was greater.

The road to Gothia stretched before him, a dusty path that seemed to stretch to infinity. He was not an experienced rider, but adrenaline and anger propelled him.

The horse, a strong and resilient animal, responded to the command, galloping at a surprising speed. But Leonard demanded more. More speed. More distance between him and the pain.

He forced himself not to think of Roland—of the laugh he'd only ever shared with him, of his strength and unwavering example, of his brutal, senseless death. But the images returned in flashes: training sessions, quiet advice, the unwavering friendship, and the countless times Roland had saved him, even as a child.