For the ones, we lost and had entirely forgotten.

This thought troubled my heart.

There had been a war in the South for years, led by the heir prince against the "Stained" Kingdoms, but we, being a city in the northwestern part of had not been affected much by the war, thanks to the efforts of Lord Sillavont. We continued our lives as usual.

But every day, as we went about our daily lives, young men were perishing, their bodies forever lying on the battlefield. Those who would ride off to fight and never return. They wouldn't even have graves. Left behind were the orphaned children, widowed women, grieving parents...

I did not believe in the "honor" and "glory" brought by war. Wasn't human life more than just simple ambitions? Why were we keeping so many people, so many young men alive, only for them to die on the battlefield? For what purpose? What lands, what riches could bring back the dead, and relieve the suffering of orphaned children? I asked myself these questions but couldn't find an answer. I doubted there was. My eyes instinctively landed on Misa, who was chasing other children in the town square. No one could bring her parents back.

These thoughts were on my mind now, but normally I would not think much about them. When I went down to the town, I would sometimes hear the traders complain about how difficult it was to do business with the south in their current state or how the low nobles talk about the economic damage caused by the country's warlike attitude at the heir prince's initiative. "The heir prince burns and destroys, leaving only ruins and death in his wake, while his brother strives to salvage what remains," they would say.

And perhaps they were right. Before King Thawonar I, there were only massacres, disasters, plagues, and death. The Holy King, our Great Hero arrived and battled the Demon of the Skies, Askyje, to free our kingdom of long lasted suffering. He banished the demon from the earth forever. He brought peace and prosperity to our kingdom that would last for decades. Despite his sacrifices, his legacy of peace was destroyed now.

They say the heavens frown upon lands where the blood of innocents has once seeped, and the ones who stay silent are the first to perish.

So we were destined to perish, but when?

"So it is over, for real," I said, sitting next to Ena.

"Indeed," Zulie grinned. "A very handsome messenger from the town said so this morning."

"Oh?" I chuckled. "You should have asked the details."

Zulie rolled her eyes, pointing at Ena. "This grumpy lady wouldn't allow it."

I chuckled again. Ena didn't react. She continued to watch the singing girls with a sad expression.

I don't know if it was because of her mournful demeanor, but something awoke inside me. Her sorrow was radiating out of her, permeating the air with its sour scent. Even though I didn't touch her, I felt her body was freezing but her chest was on fire. The sorrow and anxiety passed on to me as well.

I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Ena turned to look at me, smiled warmly, then lowered her head and silently continued to sit.

"They say it is over, but my father doesn't think so," Glaudine shook her head. "He says he heard the merchants at the inn. The heir prince intends to start an even bigger war. He says The King will demand soldiers from every region."

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows.

Glaudine shrugged. "I don't know either."

"But The King doesn't support his son's politics, I thought?"

"I don't know."

"Damn the heir prince," Zulie grumbled, playing with her braided hair. "Greedy pig."

How cheerful. Either way, The King was old. One day, his eldest son would ascend the throne. Who knows what we would have to endure then.

"Do you think soldiers will be recruited from our village too?"

I looked at Ena, who was speaking softly. She had an expression that was difficult to decipher as she seemed to be still watching the singers.

But she wasn't. I could tell she was watching something else, someone else.

When I followed her gaze, I immediately understood what she meant.

She was looking at the young men walking in a group near the mill, carrying shovels and hoes.

She was looking at Milas.

Oh, Milas.

I knew what she was thinking. She loved him, since childhood. Ena was a grounded girl with grounded expectations. Her mother was nagging her to get married, but it wasn't even necessary. Ena already wanted to marry, start a family and raise her children. Before the year ended, as soon as the crops were harvested, their fathers were going to betroth them. She had been planning it all in her head for a long time.

"Ena," I said softly, placing my hand on her shoulder again. "Don't worry about that now. Let's just be thankful that the war is over."

Ena nodded slowly, her eyes downcast. I knew she was still thinking about Milas, about the possibility of losing him to another war. But we couldn't do anything anyways. We were mere villagers, who were living the lives that seemed fit to those high noble lords and ladies and royals and all.

"Have you heard about his lover?" Glaudine asked out of nowhere.

"The heir prince's?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I heard that he took a mistress from the south, a witch they say."

"Huh?" Zulie exclaimed, her fists clenched tightly.

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"A what?" I was left in shock. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I'm not joking."

"Oh the good Gods, I will murder him myself." Zulie laughed.

I nodded in agreement, feeling the same disbelief and anger that Zulie did. We had all heard the tales of the heir prince's crusade against the South, how he believed they were "stained" and "sinful" for studying dark magic. It was the reason he had led his armies to conquer their lands and bring them under his father's rule. Or at least he reasoned it with that.

"I thought he was very pious," Ena said, her voice filled with disappointment. "He would not do something like that."

Glaudine shook her head, her expression was confused. "People are saying that he's been bewitched by her, that she's using her dark magic to control him."

Zulie's eyes flashed with anger. "Well, he should know better than anyone the dangers of dark magic! He's the one who condemned the South for it!"

"Careful, Zulie," I warned. I was just remembering it was still daytime and there were people near. "Someone can hear you."

Zulie huffed but nodded her head in agreement. "I know, I know," she muttered. "But it's just not fair. All those soldiers who died, and for what? So he could take a witch as his mistress?"

She was right. We were all angry and confused. I did not know what to think.

We continued to discuss the situation, while Misa continued to play with the other kids. Zulie's anger simmered but Ena's gaze kept drifting toward Milas. I could see the worry and sadness in her eyes, and I knew that she was not just upset about the prince's hypocrisy, but also about the uncertain future ahead.

As we finished our conversation by the well, the mood was somber, and we parted ways with heavy hearts. The news of the heir prince's actions has cast a shadow over the village, and we couldn't help but wonder what the future held. The only thing we could do now was to wait and see, hoping for the best, but bracing ourselves for the worst.

As we walked through the woods with my niece, I couldn't shake off the heaviness that hung over me. Wars and deaths, greed and hatred, dark magic and nightmares, evil spirits, unbreakable seals, and silent gods, were all swirling and swirling in a well in my head. Ena's sadness and Zulie's anger had taken me a prisoner. It followed me all the way from the village, piling over me like a heavy blanket. I felt that dark energy was trying to penetrate my body but it failed. The talismanic tattoo on my chest was tingling. I wanted to talk to Ascula as soon as possible to tell her what had happened, to ask about what I had heard, but I knew she was not in her house. The ritual would last several days. She must have heard all this gossip while she was in the temple and in the city.

Had my mother heard it too, I wondered? She was in the city as well.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves. I turned to see my niece reaching out to pluck some wildflowers. A smile formed on my lips as I watched her.

I distracted myself by collecting some herbs along the way. Yarrows, thymes, sages, and meadowsweets. The soothing scent of the greens calmed my nerves. As I looked around at my peaceful surroundings, I tried not to guess how long this serenity would last.

My niece, who walked next to me, sensed my low mood and reached out to hold my hand. Her small, comforting grip brought me back to the present moment, and I gave her a grateful smile. She was too young to understand the complexity of the situation but she seemed to understand something was wrong.

As we approached our home, I took a deep breath and tried to push away the worries. I needed to be strong for my family, to provide them with a sense of security in these uncertain times. My mom was emotionally strong but her health was delicate. I had to continue to do what I could protect those I cared about, even in the face of uncertainty.

My mom was home. I washed my hands and face, then I helped her prepare the table. As we sat down to eat, my mother began to speak about the first day of the ceremony at the temple. She had managed to watch it from the sidelines after she finished her work in the town, and her description of the stunning beauty of it all made me feel as though I had missed something special.

"Even the Lord Sillavont was there," she said, her eyes lighting up with awe.

I couldn't help but feel a bite of envy. I had never seen the Lord in person, and I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in his presence, especially in a big ceremony like this.

A ceremony I did not deserve.

"Did he say anything?"

My mother shook her head. "No, he didn't speak. But just being there was enough to make the whole ceremony feel more momentous."

Momentous. I smiled.

We continued to talk about the ceremony as we ate. She talked about her day and I fed Misa after I finished. With a grateful heart, I helped my mother clear the table and clean up the kitchen.

As I scrubbed the last dish clean, I remembered the gossip at the village. I tried so hard not to ask as I was feeling low, but my curiosity won in the end.

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Have you heard about the war ending?"

My mother paused from wiping the table and looked at me. "Yes, I have," she said softly. "It's a relief, isn't it?"

I nodded, but my thoughts were still on the possibility of another war. "But do you think there will be another war soon?"

"I hope not, dear," my mother said, continuing to wipe the table. "We can only hope for the best and be prepared for the worst."

I sighed, knowing she was right. I guess there was no talk of another war in town yet.

After finishing up in the kitchen, my mother and I prepared for bed. We lit candles in the small room and I helped her and Misa change into her nightgown. I could tell she was tired from the day's activities, and I didn't want to burden her with my worries just yet, so I did not tell her about the rumors.

Once they were settled in bed, I gave her and Misa a gentle kiss on the forehead and bid them goodnight. I then went to my own room and changed, then laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls, and the night was quiet, save for the distant hoot of an owl. My mind was still filled with thoughts of the war, Ena's concerns, and the prince's actions.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to clear my mind as I drifted off to sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow. I could not shake the feeling of unease that has settled deep within me.

As I lay there, the walls were getting higher and higher, with holes being carved up on them, and the boards were rotting and falling to the ground.

The moon hung high, casting an eerie glow over the world below. It was so high that no one can touch it. I reached out to touch, farther and farther. I felt like I was going to be ripped out of my body somehow.

But I did not. I rose with my arm and glided through the night.

But before I can make a decision, the dream fades away, leaving me standing alone in my room, with only the moonlight to guide me.

I flew through the moonlit forest, my feet barely skimming the dew-kissed grass, feeling its sweet cold. The silver beams of the moon guided my way, casting shadows that dance around me as if they were whispering in my ear. The forest was silent other than the light, holding its breath as if to not scare me.

I let myself be carried away by the wind.

I could feel the chill in the air, the wind brushing against my skin, as I approach the Ascula's cottage. As I draw closer, the light's voice echoed in my mind, a voice I recognized as my mother's. "He is going to die, Mom, he is going to die," it whispered.

He is going to die, I remembered. He is going to die.

He is going to die, Mom.

My heart quickened with fear and I did not want to continue.

Against all my wishes, I reached the steps of the cottage.

And there, I saw him.

A young man with tousled dark hair. His clothes were soaked in blood, and he looked so pale, so fragile. He lay motionless, his breathing shallow, his eyes closed. Blood oozed from his wounds, pooling around him.

He is going to die, Mom, he is going to die.

I did not know what to do. I froze in place, watching the young man's chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.

A cold wind blew.

I reached out to touch him, to offer aid, but I couldn't fly there no matter what I did. I gasped, my heart aching with helplessness. His face was familiar, yet I couldn't place it.

Who was he? Why was he here?

He was so young. So fragile.

Now he's just another nameless knight,

Whose story has no end.

I reached out again but this time my vision blurred and the scene faded away, leaving me desperate.

I awakened with my heart pounding in my chest, covered in a cold sweat.

He is going to die.