The fire cracked, its saps popping. The orange flames danced on Ezri's face, intensifying the fire in his eyes. "What do you mean a boat from Mias is coming?"

"I sent one of my soldiers to Mias. As we speak now, a boat must be coming our way," Amaya frowned. "You have to come with me," he repeated clearly and concisely, but the words failed to make sense to Amaya.

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, Ezri." The old man's words bumped into her mind like an echo. You can't go back to Ornuv. But she didn't let them bounce on her decision."I have to go back to Ornuv." She held her eyes firmly on him.

Ezri inhaled deeply. "Amaya. You can't go back, and you know that. You are in danger. This is a death sentence for you." You will die. The rusty, weathered voice resonated in her mind again, but she kept her lips tight and chin high.

"I can't leave my people." She would not let her people down, not like her Father.

"A war is only waiting to arrive. You can't prevent this." Ezri's voice was weighty, as if to crush her will.

She could see the fear in his eyes, the impatience in his tone, the jitteriness of his body, but Amaya had made that decision the moment she left the castle. "Then I will fight."

You don't know what you are talking about," he almost yelled, his voice rushing and rippling with anger. "You don't know war." He scooted closer, "You don't know the feeling of hot blood on your hands; you don't know what it is to see a comrade fall all around you and not be able to do anything. You haven't seen a blood bath, Amaya." He paused as if reviving that moment, recoiling as if he could smell the rotten flesh as they retrieved the slaughtered days after they fell. Horror printed on his face as if he could still hear the screams of his soldiers. He was there again, and his eyes clouded, his breath itching...

"Ezri." He looked up to Amaya, blinking. "I am sorry for what happened to you, but I can't let go of my people. I have seen what happened in the castle."

Ezri's chest settled. "This is nothing compared to what is coming must a war on the Continent arise."

"I am prepared."

"No one is ever prepared for that," he said, the sorrow deep in his cloudy eyes. "Not even the best soldier."

"What are you asking me to do?" Shock crossed Amaya's features. "To leave my people to fend for themselves while I hide?" The sole thought jolted her skin. "I can't. I hid for ten long years. I will no longer hide." She crushed the jewel of her mother under her grip. "I will finish what my mother started."

Ezri frowned hard, tightly. "Listen. Go back to Mias with me first, and then I will ask Father to gather an army for you. You won't be able to fight without an army."

She searched for the lie, but his gaze was steady. "What about my friends?" She looked to the side. Her gaze found Lach sitting alone on a trunk, a stick tracing the ground before him, marinating in his thoughts, and for some reason, her heart tightened.

Ezri watched him, too, and his eyes fell into a slit. "They can't come with us."

Amaya whirled her face back at him. "What do you mean they can't come with us? They helped me all the way here. It's thanks to them I am still alive today."

"How long have you known these people?" He threw his good arm to the side. "For what? A few days? I don't trust them, Amaya." He said intently.

Amaya took a step back. "I trust them. Lach saved me, and he left his family to be here with me. Bett helped us, too. I can't-"

Ezri pressed a hand on her shoulder, and she stilled. "It does not matter because as soon as My Father becomes aware of the situation of Ornuv -if he isn't already- he won't let anyone from Ornuv enter the territory. Not anyone besides you, of course."

Amaya shook her body, freeing herself from his grip. "I am not leaving them. I promised them that I would help them. I gave them my word. They come with me, or I do not come."

"I didn't want to do this..." Ezri murmured, rubbing his face, and Amaya raised a brow. "I have to tell you something about Lach."

**

The trunk on which Lach sat dug into his bones. He shifted uncomfortably. Ezri and Amaya hadn't come back since they slipped behind the bonfire. His heart bounced with trepidation despite his calm appearance. It was her. That girl. All this time. How he hadn't recognized her earlier was outrageous, but he was sure it was her now. That girl who made his heart blossom like spring. But now Ezri was there, and he remembered his words from the boat. His grip tightened on the wooden stick, making it crack.

A sandaled foot and staff appeared in his vision, and his gaze panned up at the old man. He smiled, and Lach nodded. The trunk cracked as he sat down next to him.

"Don't you enjoy our festivities, young man?" He asked, watching the dancers around the bonfire. They seemed to fuel it with their joyful movement. Ankles turned, head jerked to the side, wrists flickers to the sky with bracelets and skirts twirled like blooming flowers.

Lach kept his head down as he shook it. "My mind is too heavy for that."

The man chuckled, sounding more like a cough than a laugh. "Aren't all our minds full and bothering?" He didn't expect an answer to that. "Look," He pointed with his staff to Bett, who was dragged by two women around the bonfire. They tried to follow the steps but looked more like a fool than a skilled dancer. Lach curled his lips slightly, marking this memory inside a warm pocket in his mind for the next time Bett would seek humility. "What is bothering your mind shouldn't prevent you from enjoying your life."

Lach's mouth curved down. "It's not that easy." When your mind would seek your own demise by bringing all the terrible things you have done all your life. How could one enjoy life? Sometimes, his mind would seek pleasure in torturing him so much he wouldn't be able to close his eyes all night.

The man cocked his head, his long white hair spreading to the side of his shoulder. "The life of a young man is filled with a lot of grief." Lach fidgeted with his wooden stick. "As a kid, your head is full of dreams and ideals. You think you can change the world because the world does not seem so big when you are so little. But then you realize you don't have control over events, the wars, the people you lose..." Lach's lips were so tight they drew white. "Control is an illusion, and if you realize it soon enough, you prevent from losing any parts of your soul and body." The man touched his severed thigh. Lach observed the empty place where a leg once resided.

"What happened?" He choked, not realizing the emotion that had filled him. He cleared his throat.

The man smiled bitterly. "I fought a war, an ideal that was an illusion from the beginning."

"Do you think peace is an illusion?" Bitterness spread on Lach's tongue.

"There is no and will never be peace in war." The man gazed ahead, his features softening. Lach followed the softness of his eyes. The woman with hair as red as the two young men from earlier danced with a little girl in her arms with hair equally fiery. They were barely blossoming into men, but Lach recognized their ardor, vigor, and hot-blooded impatience dipped into the remains of childhood. Lach saw his reflection in them. It wasn't so long ago he was as hot-blooded. A smile cracked on the man's face. The woman's face glowed as she laughed, a melody that reached their ears. "Ideals and grand causes...changing the world and a nation are all abstracted goals with no real substance. I only fight for what matters to me. If I lose them, I lose myself, and no grandeur of a country could ever replace them." Lach looked at the man through his dark strands. "It is not worth the battle if I lose the ones I love. Regrets are like the marks of old age; they only get starker as time passes, and there is no way to reverse it or to get rid of it until you enter your grave." He paused before he asked, "Who matters most to you?"

"My brother and my mother," Lach said, but the man was still silent, waiting for more. Lach sighed. There was a name on the tip of his tongue, and he didn't dare say it, for he didn't think he was worthy enough. Amaya appeared again, her face distraught, Ezri on her steps. Lach stilled.

The old man's eyes darted between the two. "Whatever is bothering your mind and heart should be said to the ones that matter to you before it is too late."

The wooden stick found the ground as Lach stood up. "Thank you," he said and headed towards her. He wanted to say many things, but most importantly, he needed to tell her how his chest tightened with just a gaze of her. How his heart burned just hearing the melody of her laugh. How she had left a lingering mark on him that he couldn't wipe away for ten long years. How he had sought her all this time in every one of his relationships. "Amaya," he called, and the woman frowned upon seeing him, almost recoiling. Lach's arms fell to his side. "What's going-"

"Are you following me because Ezri promised you money?" She asked.

The coldness of her tone made Lach pause. "What? No- I mean, but it wasn't for that." Lach glared at Ezri. "Tell her this is not true." He kept silent.

"Did he promise to pay your debt?" Amaya's eyes bored into him, hurt flickering in them.

He was trapped. "He did, but not for the reason that you think. He wanted me to bring you to Mias-"

"Oh, Sun God," Amaya's chest heaved, turning away from Lach.

"Amaya. Please- I would have not-" he reached for her, but Ezri came between them, his eyes warning.

"It's fine, Stableman; I will take care of her now. Thank you for your service." He threw on the floor a pouch, the coins clinking inside.

Lach clenched his jaw, coming to Ezri as a boulder, but he kept blocking his path. He searched for Amaya over his bandaged shoulder. "I wasn't going to accept the money. Amaya. Please, trust me! You know I agreed to not bring you to Mias." Her shoulders tensed as if his voice was like the squeaks of a crow.

The dances had stopped, and a crowd surrounded them. Something in his stomach churned, making him sick. It couldn't happen, not like this. He reached out again, but Ezri caught his arm. "You have done enough." Lach's fists bawled, ready to hit, but Amaya stepped away.

"Amaya!"

Ezri followed her, spreading his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go to sleep." He brought her to a tent, and Lach was left with all the gazes on him. Bett was next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

His heart scattered on the ground for everyone to see.

**

Lach stared at the ceiling of his tent all night. He heard the soft wind blowing against the tent flaps, the snoring of Bett on the makeshift bed opposite his, and the owl's cries, but nothing could deafen the hurt in Amaya's eyes. The day arrived quicker than he thought, the birds chirping already ringing through his ears. He wiped the dryness of his gaze but couldn't do so with the dread filling his mind. His body was as weary as an old man as he propelled himself to a sitting position.

Amaya.

The events of last night spread before his eyes, filling his body with rage. Why would Ezri do this? He hadn't accepted the money. The moment he decided not to bring her to Mias meant he would give up on it, and Ezri knew it. But why couldn't she believe him? His chest clenched before something bitter spread inside it. Because he was a Prince and he was a simple stableman. Lach wanted to laugh, but he didn't even have the strength to do so. It was as simple as that. Those people were raised on mountains, ready to collapse on people like Lach. But Amaya was different, and he wouldn't give up on her and bring his regrets to the grave.

The tent flaps whispered against each other as Lach headed outside. The sun was less stark than the day before, but the air was still stuffy as his shirt clung to him like a second skin.

He found Amaya and Ezri near the dead bonfire. Amaya's features taunt. It seemed she hadn't slept either. "Amaya," Lach started before he found the bags. His steps faltered. "Where are you going?"

Ezri pushed a bag on his good shoulder. "To Mias."

"What?" Lach searched Amaya's gaze, but she wouldn't look at him. He ignored the pieces of his heart, shattering even more. "You said you wouldn't go to Mias." Her gaze was stuck on the ground. "Amaya?" he called, voice soft. "Please, look at me."

She finally looked up, gaze sharp, all the softness gone. "I am still grateful for what you have done for me," she said, her voice steady as if...as if he was a mere stranger rendering a service.

"I am coming too." She grabbed a piece of her dress tightly. "I am not leaving you," he continued. "Amaya." She looked away.

"It's not yours to choose stableman." Ezri's voice rang, and Lach was reminded of his presence.

He frowned deeply before turning back to Amaya. "Amaya. Please don't go," he whispered, but she stayed silent, and he wasn't sure he could recollect all the broken pieces of his heart.

"Stableman-"

Lach saw red, and in a fraction of a second, he had Ezri's collar crumpled inside his tight fist. Amaya gasped. "I have enough of you." Lach hissed as his nose flared.

"You know this is the right thing to do!" Ezri growled intently. "Zakrus will kill her if she goes back. I am protecting her."

"I am protecting her too! All I have done was for her!" Lach yelled. Amaya's head snapped up. People slipped their heads outside of their tent at the outburst.

"Then let her go with me," Ezri hissed. "The King of Mias will help the King of Ornuv and-"

"The King of Ornuv is dead!" Lach yelled, the blood pulsing inside him, fogging his brain with rage. He hadn't realized what he had said until he heard a choking sound. Amaya. Lach froze. He let go of Ezri, and his eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder.

His breath was knocked out of his lungs when he saw Amaya. Shock widened her features. "What did you just say?"

He hadn't eaten much the night before, but Lach thought he would throw up the little food he had in his stomach. "I-"He couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. Amaya stared at him as if he were looking at one of those creatures.

"Father is...dead." Her eyes welled up. "Tell me this is a lie." It was only a faint whisper.

Lach's mouth tightened. "I-" He searched for the right words, but ultimately, they all failed to alleviate the pain. He knew it deeply. He inhaled deeply. "I am sorry." Amaya's chest heaved. She clutched her chest as if a spear had pierced through her heart. She let out a choking sound that tore Lach into two. Lach's own eyes burned. "Amaya..." he reached for her.

"Don't!" He froze. The hatred in her eyes was nothing he had seen before. "Don't touch me! "How could you?" she yelled to his face. "How could you hide this from me?" Each word punched Lach's guts.

"I couldn't." His own gaze blurred.

"How?" she asked, voice trembling, edging with despair.

Lach looked down. "Zakrus..."

She closed her mouth with her palms as if to prevent her from throwing up. "Oh, Sun God." The tears ravaged her face, and Lach could only watch her, his heart swelling in his throat, suffocating him.

"I am so sorry."

She glared at him with a fire burning her glassy eyes. "I thought I could trust you, but you lied to me all this time." Lach's lips were trembling. "I should have never talked to you that day at the stable." Her words were as sharp as a blade, and now blood was gushing from Lach's chest. "I don't want to see you ever again." She stepped away, sobbing, followed by Ezri, but Lach was too stunned to move.

A tear fell on the green grass.