Bearclaw Valley a tale of jerusalem

There was a knock-knocking in his skull with every word his sister spoke, a buzzing in his ears that threatened to make him swoon. It took every ounce of his willpower to remain standing when all he wanted to do was collapse. The tips of Avicus' red guard hairs lifted, leaving Aventus wondering if she would take this opportunity at last to strike him down and reclaim what had always rightfully been hers. So she was real after all.

It took him a beat or two longer to comprehend her words. Damn this blasted rattling in his skull, which he shook vigorously. It was an answer to both questions. No, only Merrick had killed Laurel. No, Merrick was never coming home.

They killed each other, he answered bleakly, and all his followers turned traitor after that. He didn't take it as a personal affront against himself — he had merely seen what needed to be done, tested their resolve, and found it lacking. They had not abandoned Ursus because of his poor leadership, no, but because they had imagined in Merrick some humanity that was not there, because Merrick was obsessed with Indra, because Merrick wished to play his games and appease the bear with subjects rather than blood.

Look where that had got him.