Avalel sits quietly to the side, polishing the Anapadeia as the soldiers and villagers enjoy the spontaneous events. It is already late into the night, the village only illuminated by several bonfires, yet there is no sign of the festivities slowing down. The villagers, with their hospitality, had quickly offered more events after the meal, and naturally, the soldiers accepted the invitation. The soldiers, forgetting their mission, temporarily discard their armor to the side as they gleefully dance and mingle with the villagers. Maia had left to play with other children, putting the oversized helmets on their heads in curiosity, although they would soon be sternly scolded by a nearby soldier. To be honest, the attitudes between the soldiers and the villagers are surprisingly cheerful, lacking even the slightest hostility.

Avalel himself had been practically mobbed by many soldiers after his short duel with Tarak, them eagerly getting to know this legendary figure so praised in the military propaganda. Only after a long while did they finally lose interest in him, taking their unusual amount of mental energy somewhere else.

“They finally stopped bothering you?” Kavlina approaches Avalel, taking a seat on the dry grass beside him.

“Yes,” Avalel sighs, “Have I become a celebrity or something in Thille?”

“Portrayed as a hero in Thille,” Kavlina replies, “Even when you’re not here, you managed to raise the morale of the entire faction.”

“Whose idea was it?”

“Rasu’s, of course,” Kavlina says, “It was originally out of spite, so I think, when he was venting his anger, but it did make you an instant mascot. If you return now, I think you will have enough support to be a high-ranking officer.”

“If I did, would you be happy with it?”

“I… would,” Kavlina hesitates, “I’d rather not, though.”

“Why?”

“I want you to be… well, you.” Kavlina points at the night sky, a view she had not seen for months, whether in the underground roads in Thille or in battle, where the streaks of light from artillery fire often lit up the sky. “I think I’m more comfortable with the Lel who is always close by and supportive than an Avalel who is distant and untouchable, even though he may shine like one of these stars in the sky.”

Avalel looks at the rugged, tired face of Kavlina, obviously uncleaned for days, if not weeks. Her short hair is entangled together like an overgrowth of bushes. Her grey eyes are dimmed, half-shut from the lack of sleep. Her cheeks, which he remembers have always been smooth and fair are smudged with dirt, with trails of lighter tones where sweat would’ve trickled past. Still, it is Kavlina.

“I like it here,” he says, “Everyone’s so relaxed, my life so much more peaceful than the constant pains of war. Thille may have technology and better things in general, I prefer to be with the villagers here, with Maia, where my life can just slowly pass by, and I can forget about the war which I wasn’t even supposed to be a part of. If you and Tarak want to, I can always ask if you two can join me in this purposeless life as well.”

Kavlina chuckles. “It’s just like what you would say.”

“To be honest, I forgot why I was fighting in the first place,” Avalel says, staring at the Anapadeia, “Was it because I was just dragged into it? Was it because I wanted to do something for Thille? I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”

“Maybe you just wanted to fight,” Kavlina guesses.

“But for what?”

The words, spoken so casually from his own tongue, resonate in his mind. But for what? All those battles, those deaths that he caused with his own hands, those individuals who fell to his blade… What is it all for? He doesn’t want to kill. He still believes so. But maybe, maybe he is already losing himself, slowly, unconsciously, until he is corrupted, numbed by the war itself.

“Maybe this is why you want to live a quiet life here,” Kavlina finally responds, “You don’t know what you were fighting for. And I admit, I don’t either. I killed my own father to protect me and my mother. Old Man Faresoenn killed many soldiers to protect you and me. But what is the purpose for our killing of the so-called ‘enemy’ now?” She stares deeply into Avalel’s eyes. “For me, it is always the same: to protect. I want to protect the people I know. Whether that is fighting for the New Rule or some other faction, as long as I can protect them, I will fight on. Even if it means to kill.”

“Is that why you are still a soldier even after all this time?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to return to the battlefield after tonight?”

“To be honest, we should be heading back now, but we all want to stay a little longer,” Kavlina answers, “Maybe when we recover some ground and get some breathing space, then I’ll visit you here again.”

“I’ll make sure to improve my cooking skills.”

“And your fighting skills as well,” Kavlina adds, “Tarak dueled you this time, his skills vastly improving from before, yet you still managed to best him.”

“Why not have a friendly duel now?”

“Not now,” Kavlina refuses, “Now, I just want to enjoy the night quietly, talking with you, just looking as time passes.”

She looks at Avalel, his face ever so bright, filled with optimism. He had seen many tragedies, but he just seems to shrug them off, remaining the ever positive Lel she knows. Unlike her, he can fit in easily wherever he goes, adapting to any environment. If she had come to this village alone, she would’ve just left as soon as she recuperated enough, maybe staying an extra day at most. She can’t find herself communicating in such a strange dialect, while Avalel already looks, dresses, and even sounds like the locals. Perhaps… Avalel no longer needs the company of them. He might miss her and Tarak, maybe even the other soldiers of their former squad, but he’ll just carry on his life as usual, being a resident of this unnamed village, until he grows old, maybe forming a family, and dies of old age, all unaffected by the war. By then, they will only be a distant memory, part of a violent but short-lived chapter in his life.

“Should we make a wish?” Avalel suddenly suggests, “I think it’ll be quite boring if we just sit here and wait until their partying is over.”

“A wish?” Kavlina says in surprise.

“If there is truly a god of sorts, controlling our lives, I think it can listen to our pleas best when we’re in a quiet place like this.”

“If there is one,” Kavlina clarifies.

Avalel points at a star, its light just a tiny spark in the sky. “I wish that Kavlina and Tarak may live till old age, that the war may end early.” He sighs, the dim light from the stars reflecting from his eyes. In war, this is all he can wish for. Not wealth, not prosperity, not even a good life… Only life itself is already precious. It might be the last time he would be with Kavlina and Tarak, the last night before they return to their battles and him to his quiet life.

“I wish that Lel’s wishes be granted,” Kavlina states.

“That’s it?”

“Yes,” Kavlina replies, “That’s it.”

The star blinks, as if receiving their words, storing it within its core. Maybe the wishes are as far as the stars, visible but forever unreachable. It is but a lofty dream, an imagination conjured by their hopeful hearts. Or maybe it is the beginning of another chapter, where they will chase this wish, and perhaps, if their bodies allow, shoot for the stars.

Avalel looks at Kavlina again, her eyes closed as she breathes the fresh, pure air. Would their lives have been different had such a war not existed, the Empire still standing, basking in its glory? Maybe Avalel could’ve been pampered and spoiled, raised by many servants and attendants, never having to touch a weapon. Maybe Kavlina could’ve been a rather normal person, loved by both of her parents, her mother giving her many gifts while her father telling her exciting stories. Tarak could’ve continued his father’s craft as a miner, or maybe even taken over a mining corporation himself.

Perhaps they would’ve met each other in a different circumstance. Avalel could imagine himself procuring a valuable gemstone from Tarak, the dirtied, tough hands of Tarak handing over the clean, unblemished stone into Avalel’s soft, baby-like palms. He could imagine Kavlina following her friends around, chattering and laughing as they pass by Tarak, giggling at his stature but not giving a second look. He could imagine himself delivering refined speeches, talking about the optimistic future on his pedestal while Faresoenn stands by his side, loyally protecting him as he had for Stasibel.

They could’ve had such normal lives.

The dancing finally fades as the soldiers realize the time. Hurriedly, they rush for their equipment, giving quick farewells to the villagers, some promising they will visit again. It was a crazy day. One where a reconnaissance mission became one of celebration and festival. One where the villagers received significant outside interaction for the first time in years. One where three friends, separated from a battle, were briefly united.

Kavlina stands up, picking up her equipment and armor. “I think we should go now,” she says.

“Wait.” Avalel beckons for her to sit back down and reaches for her hair. In delicate motion, he ties her the same braid, wrapping the strands around each other, intertwining them like a tapestry. As Kavlina sits patiently, she finds the familiar braid draping down the side of her face to her shoulder, a reminder of their friendship.

“Finished.” In addition to the braid, Avalel had also combed her hair, making it flowing smoothly once more.

“Thank you,” Kavlina says.

“Will we see each other again?”

“I don’t know,” she replies.

Avalel opens up his arms. “A hug?” he asks, reminding them of their time in that cave in Thille.

“If you want,” Kavlina answers, shuffling closer.

The two embrace each other, their arms locked behind the other’s back. Kavlina touches Avalel’s neck, feeling the warmth from his body radiating out. Meanwhile, Avalel plants his face on her shoulder, muttering something that only comes out as soft vibrations in her clothing. It is only a brief hug, but to them, it is like the final gesture before they separate, the last time their lives would intersect. Four years of friendship ending here, each taking their own path.

Finally, they release each other, and reluctantly, Kavlina stands again, carrying her equipment and following the other soldiers back to their bunker.

“About what you said about protecting others…” Avalel calls out before Kavlina is out of earshot.

“Yes?” Kavlina turns her head.

“I think I know what I want now.” A smile appears on Avalel’s face as his eyes meet Kavlina’s. “I want to protect the village, as you are protecting me, Tarak, and the others.”

“Good.” Kavlina returns the smile, her gaze gentle for the first time.

Slowly, the soldiers shrink beyond the horizon, waving their goodbyes until the last moment. Avalel stares at the silhouette of Kavlina, her thin braid swinging about as she walks. Goodbye.

Tanalien inspects her soldiers. Unlike the usual inspection of weapons and gear, she is not looking for the cleanliness of the soldiers’ equipment, but their reactions.

She snaps her fingers. Immediately, a ball of energy appears from the soldiers’ palms, shining brightly in the barracks. Another snap. The balls morph into small blades, their shape not very stable but managing to preserve the sharp tip. A final snap. The blades fade away, leaving the soldiers with empty hands, leaving not even a trace of energy.

“All is good,” she says. It’s strange, really. Nasition said they would be removed from action for at least a year, but here they are. The so-called “Company Tanalien” has undergone only around three months of training, but as Nasition grows impatient, he finally deploys them here, in a barren land where the Confederation has been stuck in their advance, and where, supposedly, Avalel is.

The existence of such a company isn’t even included in the files of the military, in a sense that they can be mistaken as the enemy. Compared to the well-known Battalion Elethien, they are but a shadow, a ghost lurking about under the protection of Nasition. If the enemy, by some chance, manages to get their hands on the files, they would only find the plans for tonight to be conspicuously quiet. The disconcerted attacks from fresh recruits before were only to lower their guard, and as expected, their latest intelligence report only reveals an average of five soldiers per bunker across the narrow front. With a clear imbalance of air forces concentrating on other fronts, the enemy anti-aircraft guns have all been transported away. In a way, Nasition has meticulously created a prime opening for the company itself.

“Our mission is simple,” she briefs her troops, “To destroy the series of bunkers in front of us and clear a way for the military behind. Preparations have been done beforehand, sacrificing small numbers of our comrades in the process. We are to strike as a spearhead, ramming directly into their defenses, overwhelming them. Usually, we are ordered to kill all enemy combatants, but, for tonight, the Common Leader has specified that we do our best to capture enemy forces and hopefully gain information on the whereabouts of Avalel, our greatest enemy. Are there any questions?”

The soldiers all raise their fingers in decline before saluting. Above them, the stars twinkle in the night, illuminating their helmets.

“Before we begin our mission, I would like to ask everyone this question: what is your wish? Is it for a safe life? Is it success in whatever you do? Is it simply just getting well-deserved rest?”

She pauses, as if expecting an answer. The soldiers, however, are silent, only standing in their neat formation.

“I tell you, no. In war, these wishes are useless. Look at the stars above you. They are beautiful, aren’t they? But what use are they to our efforts? A grand total of nothing. Wishes are the same. They are beautiful, so lovely to think about, but what purpose do they serve? The same as the stars: just looking pretty. They are nothing but distractions to our service.”

“As a company, what we have is a goal. A common goal. Not idealistic, impossible wishes, but a tangible goal. A goal set to benefit us all instead of the individual. And so what is our goal? Is it to fight our battle, demonstrating our superiority? Is it to prove our worth in the military?”

“No!” She raises her voice until it is no less than a scream, echoing and vibrating in the soldiers’ ears. “It is simply to win victory after victory, first these bunkers, then a city, finally the enemy capital itself! That is our goal! To win! If you don’t want to reach this goal, then you will die! In war, we either win or we die! I ask again: WHAT IS OUR GOAL?”

“To win!” the soldiers roar in unison.

“Then let us tonight prove that we will take steps to fulfill this goal! Show them the magic of our company! March!” As the final words die down, the company organizes themselves into formation, forming a crescent shape. At Tanalien’s sign, they charge, running at the same pace, sparks of energy emitting from their gloves, preparing to be released at the right moment.

Tanalien looks at her proud company, going forth in uniformity. She doesn’t know why or how, but there is an inner feeling, telling, speaking to her that she would see that legendary power again tonight. The same voice, she assumes, that also spoke to Nasition, prompting him to prepare so much for them.

She remembers the might of the Anapadeia, so many times stronger than her soldiers’ power. So deadly, so powerful, so beautiful. The glorious light, rivaling even the Elyfesta itself, shining in her face. It is since that day that she found herself enlightened. It was like a voice, urging her to reach further. To survive. To grow stronger. To eventually face this magnificent force again… and win.

Avalel, don’t disappoint me.