Two weeks had passed since I had seen the Qi’s. I hadn’t touched the ring or journal. They still sat in the bag that had been cast into a corner of my room. I couldn’t bear to look at them again.

My time at home was coming to an end. I only had one full day left at home. Every time I thought about returning to the front, a hand seized my gut.

I slumped down onto my bed. I had gone for a ride that afternoon. I was going to miss Mimõe. He was the best pegasus I had ever ridden by a long shot.

From my spot on my bed, I could see the bag that held Calla’s things. It had been hanging over me for too long. It was time to look at them again.

I pushed up from the bed and retrieved the bag from the corner of my room. I sat back down. I opened the bag. I pulled the ring out first.

Looking at the ring brought a wave of emotions, both good and bad. I examined it, turning it over. It was worn down and scuffed. The ring was scuffed enough that the floral engraving was barely visible in some places.

I went to my desk. In one of the drawers, I found a small strip of leather. It used to have a charm on it, but that had long since been lost. I was glad I had kept the cord.

I slipped the ring onto the cord and then tied it around my neck. I didn’t want to wear it on my hand in the hopes that it would get less scratched around my neck. I didn’t want a single one of the scratches damaged. Calla had worn the ring, and Calla had caused those scratches. It felt like disrespecting him by damaging the ring further.

I hid the cord under my collar but allowed the ring to sit on top of my shirt.

I reached into the bag again and pulled out Calla’s journal.

The leather was embossed with the sun and moon symbol commonly seen across Ossory as a sign of luck.

I took a deep breath and then opened the journal.

The first page had his name and address. Seeing his handwriting again made a lump form in my throat.

Another breath, then I turned to the first page.

Manti 22, 109

It was my birthday yesterday. My dad got me this journal, said that when he was my age, he would write in a journal every day. Even if it was only a sentence, he would always write. I wish I had that kind of commitment, but I would definitely forget.

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Rico got me a book. He's so funny; he just can’t allow me to live a life of not reading. I’ll probably read the book. I love the look he gets when he talks about the book he’s reading. I love his smile. No matter how many times I see it, it never gets old.

Rico took me down to the beach for a picnic dinner as well. He and his mum had spent the morning cooking me a special meal. I hated the ride down to the beach, but it was worth it. The sunset was also stunning. It turned the whole sky pink.

Today Rico did a riding competition. I do not understand how he can shoot an arrow at a moving target while on a moving horse, but he can. He didn’t win, but he came third. I think he should have won just for being the most beautiful competitor.

The short entry brought back so many memories. I remembered his birthday that year so vividly. I had spent hours cooking and preparing. Reading his writing made me feel like he was sitting next to me, telling me all about his sixteenth birthday. It brought tears to my eyes. They weren’t exactly sad tears or happy tears. Somewhere in between. Somewhere I couldn’t quite place.

I sat back onto my bed. My back nestling into the pillows. I started to read the next passage.

Amani 5, 109

I failed a math test. Dad was not happy.

Those two sentences brought a laugh from my mouth. I could just imagine Calla being told off by his dad. Hiloman was normally quite kind, but he held a lot of value in school. Calla had never liked school very much.

Amani 10, 109

Pill, Rico, and I went to the tea house today. Da~Namilon has the best tea in town. She makes it herself but refuses to sell it. It makes her tea house all the more special. She also makes the best pastries in town.

Rico is stressing the whole time about a test we have tomorrow. I don’t know what he’s stressing about. He never fails tests, and he had been studying for ages. Pill has just accepted his fate. He never even tried in tests. He’s even worse than me.

Backshi 1, 109

They have lowered the conscription age to sixteen. I have to go to war. I have never been more scared in my life. I have heard what the front is like; I’ve seen how few people return home.

I don’t want to die.

I closed the journal. The tears that fell were no longer confused. They were tears of sadness. I couldn’t keep reading. Not yet.

I went down the stairs. I needed something to do before I spiralled.

Mum had already started on dinner. “Do you need any help?” I asked Mum.

“Thanks, Riri. Could you fry the tofu for me?” She said while cutting up some lettuce.

“Of course.”

I walked over to the stove. Mum had already done all the hard work for me. She had already pressed the tofu.

I cut the tofu bits and covered them in soy sauce. Next, I covered all of them in flour. I put a bit of olive oil into the pan and then placed the tofu bits into it. When they turned golden brown, I took them out of the pan and put the fried tofu onto a plate. I then sprinkle a bit of chilli powder over the tofu.

The dinner was amazing. My mum knew how to cook. She had made a mushroom broth and bread rolls. It was all made to perfection.

After dinner I helped with the washing up and then escaped upstairs. I stowed Calla’s journal into my pack. I wasn’t ready to continue to read it yet, but I wanted it to be there when I was ready.

I changed into my night clothes.

That night I dreamt of Calla’s sixteenth birthday. It was the first happy dream I had had about him in some time.