We sent our crippled home once we reached close to the border, pulling on a large amount of new blood in the process. Supplies were replenished, in fact even more supplies were being readied. It soon became clear why. A large expedition was being readied, and we were gathered together for a speech by our commander.

Apparently the Eioihens had decided to have a last battle to decide the fate of this war. A pitched battle was to be fought, endless back and forth discussions between Eioihen and Tarepar had finally agreed on a place and time, meant to give neither of them the advantage of terrain, weather and preparation. It surprised me when it came out, so close to when I’d given up on a short war.

[Curious, if such a battle could have been fought at any time, why choose now to do so?]

The Eioihens must be noting how currently they’re only going to grow weaker, Yinea told me we’d begun to outnumber them, and were, despite the efforts of our unknown assailant, winning this war. I guess they want to face us now, when the discrepancy isn’t that high, maybe to bring that assailant of ours to bear as a “secret weapon”.

[How could they be a secret weapon when they’re not a secret? Why did Tarepar agree?]

… That completely misses the point I just made, and it’s an euphemism. Tarepar probably agreed because as the war drags on, we will use up supplies and manpower, it’s easier this way to secure a win and end the war before more productivity and population is bled out.

[Seems like a lot to credit them for.]

Stop trawling my memories, it’s mostly fiction.

[So high school students aren’t the best choice to save worlds with? I’m shocked.] Page declared with mock surprise.

I ignored it, focusing upon the blade I had, while I had of course given it some service after combat, maintenance was an ongoing affair. It had surprised me when I had gained a sword to wield, but it became clear to me that this blade had been repossessed by a variety of people over the years. It had probably been bought by some soldier, who had died and left it behind, to be reused by the army. Spears were far more dominant in the army though, and my lack of reach often put me in danger.

Which made training sessions with Alida all the more important. I, Alida and Loran spent extra time practicing, often with one of us defending against the other two, to practice awareness. It made us acutely aware of our shortcomings when it came to combat, when I and Loran were constantly stopped dead by Alida on her own.

Loran wandered over, watching me care for the blade, he sat next to me, and pointed out spots I had missed, or methods I was using wrong. It was good to have a mentor on the subject, when all I’d received from others in the squad was a shrug and a half-hearted consolation.

“Still think Yinea’s request reasonable now?” I asked Loran, smiling wryly, checking the sword for any last problems. He chuckled, working his shoulder to soothe the pain from a training session we had yesterday. Though I didn’t disagree with the idea, I found it absurd. Alida was a very good soldier, who didn’t take unnecessary risks, trusted her comrades and knew her limits. If there was anyone to be worried about, it was us.

“Alida is the youngest child of her family, and the only one that at the time wasn’t a part of the war effort. Yinea’s looking out for family. She’s right too, all it takes is one lucky blow.” Loran’s face darkened and grew a little weary as he said it. Many veterans had died during the surprise attack, Loran had confessed a certain amount of survivor’s guilt over not being one of the dead.

I nodded slightly, there’d been a small memorial held a few days ago, consisting of soldiers each giving a moment of prayer and respect for those we had lost. I’d gone through the motions for the prayers, but my respect and sadness at their loss was sincere. I sheathed the sword. “When you go back, you are absolutely denied the right to bring back that dreary attitude.” I shook my head lightly. “You’d better make it up to Kala after this.” I didn’t ask again for his reasons, he knew I was interested, but his reasons were his own, and entitled to privacy.

He nodded, even more sombre than before, I seem really bad at interpersonal relationships. Another failure on my part manifested just as Loran left. Alida stood before me, towering as I sat with the sheathed sword lain across my lap. She looked down at me, and I fought the urge to wince at the frown across her face. I haven’t forgotten. That was the message written across her face, and in the crossing of her arms, why the heck did she care so much anyway?

“Yes, that was me, are you satisfied or should I write out a document attesting to my honesty?” I said, my voice exasperated. Her frown seemed to deepen, and I couldn’t help but wonder again what she sought. “I’m searching for home.” I said, quietly. “Or… I’m waiting for a road that might lead me home, to the family I can’t reach.” I felt no relief at this half-truth, and I suspect it wouldn’t change even if I told her everything, if she even believed me.

Her frown softened, though she continued to stand. “Can you tell me about them?” She asked. Am I really that suspicious to people who know me? I wonder. I also wonder why Loran left so quickly, he deserves to hear this if she does. I grumble slightly, but Alida clearly intends to keep me stuck here until the sun goes down or I cave, whichever comes first.

I alter the details slightly, make my recollections seem, though exotic, not outrageous. I recall New Year celebrations with my family, dinners with my friends, a barbeque we had a few months before I left where we overcooked the beef and how we would sit around to talk about the year and our future plans. The memories left me a dull ache as I drew them forth, how long had it been? Two years? Three?

My words slowed as I ploughed through memories of when I was a child, when my mother picked me up after classes and occasionally gave me a treat. I bowed my head, and my words trailed off. Was she happy now that she knew? There was a light touch on my elbow when she leaned down. “I’m sorry, your family sounds very nice.” She paused for a moment, hesitant, before continuing. “What were their names?”

I stilled, thinking, as she stood there watching, now part hesitant and part curious. Worry blossomed in her posture as I continued to say nothing, staring at the floor. “My mother’s name was Shi Han, my father’s name was Liam, my brother’s name was Jin.” I said, infusing my words with a tone of finality. Alida stood for a moment more, shifting on her feet, before walking away.

[I don’t recall those names at all, though granted you’ve only given me access to a subset of your memories, I…]

I don’t remember. I thought simply, broadcasting it and interrupting its musings. I can’t remember their faces or their names, I can barely remember our ethnicity.

[Then, the memories you shared with her…]

They’re real, I can still smell the barbeque, recall a movie I went out to watch with family and another with friends. I can remember the jokes, their voices, their individual tics, but I don’t know who they are. It’s all a massive blank space.

[Then, when they injected me into your skull, it must’ve been that brain damage.] Melancholy suffused its “voice”, and I sighed.

Or it could be before that, the scientists did do a live vivisection on my body, brain included, while blind to most of my biological pathways. Personally, I don’t know when it occurred, just that I noticed it some time ago. In this I used vivisection in its traditional meaning, instead of the all-encompassing definition prevalent now, which honestly I felt was a horrid distortion of the word.

Page didn’t respond, but a certain listless depression was palpable from the link I had with it. I said nothing, knowing it found the probabilities much higher for it to be the cause.

Loran wandered back, and I stared at him suspiciously, to which he responded with a quizzical look. “You wandered off just when Alida came to interrogate me, and come back just after she left. That innocent look on your face isn’t as innocent as you might think.” He laughed lightly, sitting down opposite to me.

“Interrogate you? She seemed fidgety and restless, I figured it was something else.” I shot him a withering glare. He shrugged and continued, “So what did she ask about? The fact that you’re clearly not from this country? Or that there isn’t any good reason why you’d be in our little hamlet?” I gave him a flat look. “You can pass off as a drifter to people who don’t really know you, but I’ve been with you for a while, and you can’t seriously be from any part of the empire, especially since I’ve been talking to people all over our country in my… old squad.” He tripped up a little there, but remained cheerful.

I sighed inwardly. Another note to make for blending into a society for next time. Page agreed, the way we seemed to be going I would likely have to integrate into a lot of different worlds before I finally got home. I told him the same things I told Alida, minus the fact that I’d appeared as a burning man near Raque’s house. That had likely been more than a little surreal for Raque.

He said nothing throughout my explanation, both Alida and Loran expressed a measure of puzzlement when I said I was waiting for the way home, but said nothing, likely attributing it to some strange inscrutable moral or cultural attitude.

He stayed for a while after I finished, silently sitting there, mulling over my words. I got up and left, drilling myself with combat moves again and again until late evening. That night, I stayed awake staring up at the stars.

They could be out there, I’ve heard it said that some separate universes may exist in the same “space”, separated by distance enough to be distinct, and this world isn’t that much different from my own. They could be just a few worlds away. I thought, pensive.

[Close and yet far, it could be true.] Page agreed simply. But did it matter? I had to wonder.

In a week I would clash with the Eioihens alongside an army to decide the fate of this war. Many were going to die, even if we won, to be forgotten in shallow, nameless graves with no one to mourn them. War had always been a hideous affair, with no one truly gaining a victory. Perhaps it was selfish, but tonight, I’ll rest and dream of home, of perhaps finally knowing the people in my life.