Chapter V

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I wove my way through the battle and back to the catacombs where His Majesty's Army was stationed. I found Eva, who was worried sick.
"Where is everyone?" she asked, worriedly.
My old self would have replied Aren't I enough? but I had changed.
"Everyone is fine. I—I just need a break," I said.
"And Tristan?" she asked.
"Still fighting and without a scratch."
She sighed, relieved. "So why are you back?"
"I couldn't handle the killing anymore."
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, I am."
She brought two rolls of wheat bread, three large strips of beef jerky, and a glass of water. I ate quickly for no other reason than the fact that I felt starved.
"How old are you?" she asked me.
"Nineteen," I gasped, after a long drink of water. "And you?"
"I'm fourteen," she replied, blushing slightly.
"Nice, I have a little brother who is going to be fourteen in a month," I said.
"Really? Who's your family?"
"Well I have a father who has retired from the Royal Guard, and a mother who helps in the silk industry."
"Wow, that sounds fun. How many siblings do you have?"
"A few, three to be exact, all boys. I'm the second youngest."
"That sounds tough, I only have one brother and he's a handful, always getting into trouble with the authorities..."

We carried on talking about ourselves and sharing about past experiences. It was the only real conversation I had ever had with a girl, aside from my mother of course. After about an hour, His Majesty's Army returned, all of them were very grimy and dirty. Eva and I helped carry the wounded in. There weren't very many injured, but enough to keep us busy.
Tristan was last of all to enter. He was still panting from the exertion.
"Where's Seberin?" I asked.
Tristan shook his head and I saw a tear progress down his cheek. He retired to his chamber, ordering no one to bother him unless it was urgent.
"Where's Seberin?" Eva asked me.
"I fear the worst, Tristan won't talk about it," I said.
Her mouth made a tiny O. "Poor Tristan."
"I know," I said.
My own eyes were starting to water just thinking about how Tristan must have felt.
He certainly is the greatest man I know, I thought.

...oOo...

Thank you readers. I would like to dedicate my part of the story to Tristan Belmont, the bravest person I know. And to Eva Caesarea, the most amazing woman in my acquaintance.

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