I stumble and catch myself before my feet could slip off the ledge. Rocks fall and splash into the churning waves below.

I sigh. Maybe falling backwards would be easier. Turning around takes effort, draining my body of what little energy I have left.

Okay. Again. One, two-

No. It isn't the stab of fear, the jolt of adrenaline that makes me stop. Actually I've ceased to feel anything in the last six months. That's what an empty stomach, constant bloodshed and living as a coward does to you. It's my brother. A ghost of a memory of him being carried away, screaming my name, lingers. It haunts me, keeps me up at night. At the same time I've clung onto it with a paranoia of a madman. A madman, carrying the very thing that hurts him because that fragment of the past would someday remind him of who he was. 

Who am I now? I observe my spindly arms, my caved-in stomach, my Abandryan tattoo that marks me as a victim, not a survivor. 

That doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters except escaping this hellhole. It's my only way out.

The world tilts as I plunge into darkness.

"Oi! You up yet?"

Gentle light floods into my vision. My body hurts. A man looks down at me. 

"Can ya speak?"

I stare at his left eye. His eyeball sparkles with dazzling colors, like it absorbed every shade and tint from a rainbow. It is unlike anything I've seen.

The strange man waves his hand in front of my face. The slight wind feels nice. I close my eyes.

An audible sigh. "Well, you're too much of a docile critter to be with us. 'Tis the Desert, then."

"One-"

"Two-"

"Three!"

All at once I feel lighter, as if I am floating. The uneasy sensation sends a stab of fear, but it quickly diminishes when two hands cradle my face. I savor the touch, reminiscing the times of being loved. Someone brushes my hand. 

"Najm?"

Figures flutter into my vision. Above me is a middle-aged man, with tears streaking his face. 

"Sohel," I murmur. 

"Najm," my brother says shakily, embracing me in his arms. I try to return the favour but wince. Pain crackles through my muscles.

"What happened?" I ask instead, looking around. Just that single action makes the world tilt and sway. I grab onto my brother. It takes me a few moments to discern the surrounding Hunters.

"I called them to help search for you," Sohel says. "It was thanks to your jackals that we found you." I look down to see Hura and Harun pawing at my hand. They snuggle me with tremendous force. I smile sadly and stroke them. 

Sohel's body starts to quiver. "Sohel?" I hug him tighter despite my aching body. "Sohel, I am all right-"

"I thought I lost you," he sobs. "All I saw was you being caught in the crossfire that day. I thought you were dead. I should not have done any of this."

I look at him in the eye. "Brother, that is in the past, let-"

"No, I am not going to lie to myself again. I was the one who invited you here, and I nearly costed our lives. This is not the first time.

"A few months after my capture, we..." Sohel sneaks a glance at the Hunters, seemingly asking for permission. They eventually nod. "During the first few months, I made friends at the camp. Some were from Abandryaph, and some were not. It did not matter. We watched each other's backs like family. We stole food for each other. And not once did we ever let a friend be beaten alone." He smiles sadly.

"With time, those of us on kitchen duty noticed the pantries were restocked on certain days. We found out when the next round of supply carts would come, became familiar with the camp's layout and routines, and marked all potential exits. Soon, we had a plan to escape. We would volunteer for early morning kitchen duty, escape through the garbage chute when no one was looking, and make our way to the supply carts—since the drivers stayed overnight. We would hide, and in a few days' time, be free.

"Everything was going smoothly the night before. Nothing was amiss. But I was terrified. I started to doubt our chances. At the last second I refused to go. They went through with the plan while I sneaked back to bed. And when I woke up..."

Sohel chokes. "They were screaming. Screaming as their flesh was burned right off. The Hunters did it to me, too. Said they knew about the plan, thanks to my unusual behavior." He slowly pulls down his collar. I catch my breath at the sight of the burn mark: a skeletal snake insignia, stamped right over where the Shield of Abandryaph was. 

"I was scared of them when they captured me, but it took branding for me to realize I had been a coward. A coward for betraying my friends. I even thought the Hunters were heroes." 

"They did that...to all of you?" I should have been there for him. I should have saved him. All of them.

Why had I not cared more?

He takes a deep breath. "I turned into a monster, Najm. Once they replaced the Shield, I began to do horrible things. First it was chanting empty, brain-washing promises to the others. Then it was punishing the young ones when they cried. And I killed people. I slaughtered innocent people from all across the continent.

"One time, one time there was an expedition to the Cobalt Coves. They said it was to do business with the pirates. But then for some reason, the pirates got angry. They attacked us. The Hunters warned to kill them before they killed us because pirates were savages. So I did. I think I killed...what, fifty men before we escaped? That night, when I was pretending to sleep, I overheard the Hunters: 'Next time, bring in the older ones. These ones were too conspicuous.' Then I knew: the pirates did not want to kill. They were trying to save us. And I killed them anyways." The space echoes with his sobs. 

"I made so many mistakes, Najm. I wanted to know you still cared for me. But with hatred, with spite, what I said...some of it was not an act." I reach out to wipe away his tears, but he sobs harder. "Watching the tower fall was like watching my mistakes crush you. How could I ever live with that?" 

Like a mirage, the stranger before me fades away. "Sohel," I say softly,  placing my hand on his cheek while holding his hand my other, "I am sorry that I left you alone. I am sorry my mistakes have caused you this. You were left wandering on that dark path for longer than imaginable." I struggle to keep my voice steady for his sake. But like an unused instrument, it wavers. "But we have both done our wrongs. What is important...is to do better next time."

"What future is there, if not one where history repeats? Even when the Eye advised against spiting you, I refused to listen."

What do I say to that? "I do not know," I tell him, looking my brother in the Eye. "I do not know lies ahead for us. Maybe...I do not know. But we have the rest of our lives figure it out." Together.

I address the Hunt—no, the warriors. The survivors. "Thank you," I say, "for giving me a chance. For...er..." I trail off, hoping they understand what I cannot say outloud without it sounding fabricated.

"It was clear you meant no harm," rumbles a voice. One of the Hunters removes his hood. The others follow suit. "Despite our appearances, you refused to hurt us."

I nod in acknowledgement. By his alabaster skin and and tough frame, I can assume he hails from the Northern Wastelands. The rest...with their complexions ranging from golden to bronze, they must be Abandryans. 

Finally, the realization hits me. Hard. "You are not part of the Hunters."

"We ran a long time ago," says the Northern. "After the Hunters' numbers diminished, we left for good."

"That—that was all an act?!"

"We had to be certain it was you," Sohel explains guiltily. "We could not have risked exposing our status to a spy."

"That was not the only reason," admits a woman with curly brown locks. "We were scared. Scared to leave behind these uniforms that defined us. Because if we did, without it, who would we be?"

A sense of belonging...the very thing that Sohel preached in the barn. I never knew that speech was not for me to believe. 

"For what it is worth...I think there is no shame in that. All of us have things we regret doing, yet cannot stop from continuing."

"Thank you," says my brother. "For seeing past who we were on the surface."

I shrug uneasily and say, "There is no need to say that." Harun barks as if in agreement.

"But, there is one more thing I need to know." They all exchange uneasy glances. I swallow and out comes the words I have had swirling about in my mind. "What do you know about the massacre five years ago?" 

Eventually, Sohel is the one to answer. "We knew...we knew most of the Hunters left for the Swift Desert. They claimed it was to steal the Eye. But we never knew they would go after the Swift Assassins first."

"How did you know I came here?" I press.

"Because you left a headmarker," says Sohel. "There were no words inscribed, but I could tell by the carvings that it was done by your hands."

I close my eyes and put my palms on the ground. "And?"

"After their biggest 'threat' was eliminated, they headed for the Ivory Nest. No one came back."

"That was your window for escape."

"Yes."

I breathe through my mouth. Is this it? Is this the closure I was looking for? If so, why is a part of me still missing?

"Najm." Sohel cradles my face. "Remember what you said to me?"

"...That we both made mistakes. And that we should leave them in the past. But..." I shake my head. "I do not know if I could. You were right. It is my fault for leaving them. What kind of person am I to leave those children?"

"You are human," Sohel says simply. "For wanting to reconcile with Mother and Father, you are human. You could not have known what would happen. Did the former Master occasionally leave the Home?"

"Yes, but-"

"And I am sure you ensured your students knew how to defend themselves. There was nothing you could do."

"What can I do now?" I ask. 

Sohel offers the Eye. "What was your goal, when the Eye led you here?" Cupping the Eye in my hands, I try to look beyond the violet clouds swirling within. 

"I wanted to honour my pupils. I wanted them to be forever remembered. But not just as victims of a massacre. I want everyone to remember for who they were," I say. 

"Yet the Eye led you to us. Why?"

I blink. "I thought I could start by finding some closure in my past, otherwise I would never be able to move on." But have I?

"Then I suppose we are your answer," Sohel says, gesturing to himself and the others. I raise my head. "Let us help you. Or rather, let us help each other."

I meet the others' eyes with a silent question. 

The curly-haired woman admits, "I would that very much." The others nod in assent.

I look at our group: a former assassin and five ex-Hunters. Who knows what lies in store for our futures?  But at the very least, I sense the future will not be a shadow of my past. That soon, there will be a new beginning for me. 

But there are things left to do.