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The ground under his feet squelched as he dismounted. The rain had put the fire out weeks ago, though Derek could swear there were still warm places as he stepped through the wreckage he once called home. His chest felt tight with unshed tears as he wandered from room to room, praying. He didn't know what for. He'd long ago given up on God.
The charred hull didn't feel anything like the home he'd left six years earlier. That place had been grand, filled with light and pack, the blood red banners of Hale flying high and proud. The sound of armor crashing into claw in the yard, of laughter, of taunting and jokes and music. The smell of his Lord father and Alpha mother, of his sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles.
All he could smell was ash. All he could see was grey. The only sound was the rain.
Except it wasn't.
Derek lifted his head sniffing the air, trying to pick out the scent of the living thing in all this death. He could hear the boy breathing hard, carrying something and grunting as he laid it down. He was singing.
Without thought, Derek followed the sound down the hill toward the trees. The smell of dead things was stronger here, and only twenty feet away did Derek realize what the boy was doing. He stopped, feeling sick. The boy had dug a grave. A large deep ditch he was laying bodies in, as gently as he could without falling in himself. He was very tall and thin, his skin so pale it reflected the poor sunlight, making him glow.
Derek was mesmerized as he pulled blanket wrapped corpses toward their final resting place. He wiped his brow with his naked arm, his rough brown robe tied tightly around his waist showing a lean bare chest, then he noticed Derek. He shaded his eyes and Derek stepped forward, acutely aware of every clank of his armor.
“Sir!” the boy called, quickly pulling his robe to rights and bowing low. Derek realized he was a friar. Or more likely in training for the priesthood. The bald patch at the top of his head glowed like the rest of him.
“What happened here?” Derek asked, looking behind the boy to the small cart he’d been pulling bodies from.
The boy followed Derek’s eyes before answering, “A sickness swept through the village and the monastery. I was tasked with… taking care of the bodies.”
The boy’s face flushed, but not with embarrassment. Derek could smell his shame from six feet away.
“And what of the lord and Alpha?” he asked carefully, keeping his face blank.
The boy blinked, looking at the top of the hill blankly, “They died too.”
Derek felt struck by an arrow, he must have looked it as well, because the boy immediately said, “Forgive me, Sir, I-- I haven’t been around people as much since--”
“What happened?” Derek growled, his eyes flashing blue.
The boy’s eyes widened, mouth agape until he threw himself to the ground, prostrated and babbling, “My lord, forgive me please, I don’t know my place, I’m worthless to you and God, please don’t--”
“Shut up!” Derek felt his teeth itching in his mouth. He broke the distance between them and hauled the boy to his feet, “Tell me what happened or I swear I’ll rip your lungs from your chest!”
The boy gulped, eyes flicking from Derek’s to the empty hillside, “The sickness swept through the castle first. Lord and Alpha Hale did their best to make sure it didn’t spread beyond the hall, but... The villagers think it’s retribution for usurping the king--”
“I don’t care,” Derek shook the boy to keep him quiet, “about gossip. What happened to my family!”
“Peter burned it!” The boy snapped, his face turning a bright, livid red, “Lord Peter burned it to the ground when the last of them died! He was mad with sickness, literally blind with it! He killed every last living soul, every maid and fucking stable boy, and put a torch to the rest!”
“You lie!” Derek threw the boy away from him, his heart hammering in his chest so loud nothing else mattered.
“I’m telling the truth!” the boy scrambled to his feet, stepping right into Derek and meeting his eyes fiercely, “Why would I lie about something so horrible? Why would I slander an otherwise honorable man?”
“For your own devices,” Derek replied heatedly, keeping the boy’s gaze, “Have care, you’re speaking to your lord.”
The boy didn’t back down for a moment, staring into Derek with such bright furious eyes, it was no wonder he’d chosen the faith. He had passion unmatched. But as they all did, he finally backed down, lowering his head and saying, “I’m sorry, my lord, I await your punishment.” with more annoyance than true regret.
Derek studied him a moment, filled with anger and loss and a cold hard fury he was very familiar with. He wanted with every part of his being to kill this boy for his impudence… but he was tired, and the land was soaked in death. He cuffed the boy instead, sending him stumbling, clutching his cheek.
“Get on with your work,” Derek said coldly, then turned away trudging back up the hill to his horse and his home.