- Shadow of the World

12 hours ago-

Lukali sat within the wooden cart, listening to the rattling of the walls and the wheels as they turned over gravel and rocks along the bumpy and rain-washed road. He was silent, the wind blowing outside, the sounds of horses riding beside the cart as it was pulled along with the many others in the long line racing towards the fortress.

His mind flashed between thought and reality, his memories flooding back to him as the words from the night before rang out in his ears.

'Your father wishes you the best. He loves you.'

They had been ringing inside of his head for days, hour after hour as his mind beat against his skull like the wooden stick against a drum. He didn't blame Lia for this, but his mind refused to forget the look in his father's face, as he must have mouthed those words once before.

He could see the plains of grass before their house, the rolling hills in their village and the townspeople that passed by. Their farms dotting the land as their crops were stacked high on their wagons, being wheeled in and out of the town.

He issued the distant sight of the mountains, the view of the forest that his father took him hunting in, or the smell of his mother's food as it burned over the fire. He could see the walls of his house, the stone and the brick foundation, he could see his small little hands as they grabbed at the side of the table, hungry for food as his mother smiled from her spot in the kitchen.

He could see his father in the living room on his favorite chair, the chair that belonged to his own father, and his father before that. He was polishing his blade, the silver and steel glinting in the sun as it spilled in the windows.

When Lukali closed his eyes, he could still see that day, how the sun broke through the sheets of glass and spilled over the carpet, how his mother's ladle worked tirelessly in the pan as she stirred the vegetable his father picked from their garden.

He could see himself as a child on his high stool, playing and fiddling with this spoon as he banged it against his small little table, fussing over the food. He could see his father laughing with his mother as she chastised him, slapping his hands as he threw the small utensils on the table.

He could see the night when it came as his father's friend would come through the door, carrying beer for them all to drink as he played on the flood as a child. How they laughed and joked about, how his father lovingly sat next to his mother as if she was all that mattered in the world.

He placed his hand on the couch, watching his younger self crawl on the floor to his father's feet as the man picked him up with his strong arms. He could see the happiness that floated in the room.

Then the image changed as he remembered coming down the stairs one day, cold and chilling for no fire burned in the fireplace. There was no smell of food in the oven or the smell of family, there was only a man sitting on his chair with his head in his hands, as his younger self made his way back up to the second floor.

He would find no love or comfort in his father's broken figure, so he sat in the hallways, missing the smell of his mother's warm cooking and her happy smile, the memories fading in and out as he cried in that hallway.

Then the image changed once again to the rain that poured outside, the smell of the puddles and the mud in his nose and lungs as he watched a man in a hooded cloak berating a small boy for not holding his sword right. He came at him with his own wooden training sword and the two sparred, but the boy was weak and fell on his butt, staining his clothes with the smell of mud that he would have to clean up later.

He could still hear his father's harsh words as he made the little boy, his younger self, clean up the mud on his clothes. The lonely days with no one around, a father who saw that breaking his son and melding him into a warrior is the only way to protect him, and the haunting hours he felt his mother's hands on his cheeks were many.

They never stopped.

"Are you okay?"

Then the image was gone, and Lukali realized the cart had stopped, men and women were outside now piling equipment and tools together as they made their home at the small farmhouse in the woods.

He looked up and before him, within the entryway as the sun spelled over her shoulders, Abigail gazed at him with a worried look.

Lukali wiped what little tears had formed on the edges of his eyes, nodding his head as he stood, grabbing a small leather pack from the floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just some stupid memories and regrets, you know…?"

He wanted to move away, he wanted to walk out that door and pitch up his tent and pretend the world was not silently cheering for him to be better - he didn't need pity now! Why now and not then when his world was turned upside down? When he was forced to train for hours in the rain until he got sick to his stomach, and then do it all over again?

But he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but silently look at the floor as Abigail brushed her hand against the cloth walls, watching him from the corner of her eyes.

"I do. Trust me, I do."

Luakli looked to her, and their eyes met for a moment, a swift moment that passed them both by like a fleeting feeling of comfort as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Lia?"

Again, nodded her head, her hair spilling down her shoulders.

"Your father…?"

Lukali hesitated, then he too nodded his head as he sighed - as they both sighed like ghosts in the wind.

"I…I wanted to apologize to you earlier. But I never had the guts until now."

Abigail fiddled with her hands, brushing her hair up and down as she avoided his eyes like a shy and lonely girl.

"For what?"

"...for everything. For working with your father to hunt you down. For lying to you and to Lia when you both trusted me. For going along with everything…"

Lukali turned, wishing to peek out the entrance of the cart, past the cloth that flapped and fluttered aside in the wind, giving him a small glimpse of the outside. He watched as Lia walked past the closest cart and into the meadows past.

He wanted to rush out there and take comfort in her words, to talk to her about all this that was flooding his head like a poison, about his father, about everything. But he just silently stepped back and peered deeply into Abigail's eyes as she spoke.

"Do…do you think she will forgive me?"

"...I don't know if she will. That's just who she is."

Abigail's face dropped to the floor, her voice a meek and quiet whisper as she muttered the word, "Oh" silently like a child.

"...but I think I can."

Her head was turned upwards, and he saw into her beautiful eyes, like vast seas of emotion that turned her wonderful and glimmering blond hair into a sea of golden amber. She was like an angel as she smiled, her face fading behind the rising setting sun.

His heat beat for her, and hers did for him.

***

12 hours later (present time) :

Gilbert's horse was a mighty animal, an animal that had been lent to him by the Caravan rider named Totalac, for the man heard his request about not wanting to ride in the carts. He didn't like the closed space, he wanted the fresh and open air around him, the sun on his back and skin as the wind blew his brown hair across his head.

He liked the anima, it didn't run like the others when the Dragon came and tore through the land, it stayed by his side waiting to die with him.

Brushing his hand against its side, he thanked the animal for the hundredth time, wondering how much Totalac would sell this horse to him for. He liked the animal, and he hoped it would carry him along in life for the rest of his days.

Suddenly there was another horse beside him as the animal closed from his trotting, and Gilbert saw Emma's bright and beautiful smile by his side.

"Caught you. Thought you could lose me, didn't you?"

"I would never think of that. You love me too much."

She smiled, holding her chin up in the wind as she took a deep breath and smelled the strong forest air that blew the pines and oaks and maples across the ground as their leaves scattered over the roads. Autumn was here and the leaves fell in bright and warm colors of fire across the sky.

"I don't love you enough…I think I've followed you for so long in this profession of yours, it's making me tired."

He smiled, looking up into the bright blue sky above him as the clouds drifted through the wind, as white as the snow, the leaves as colorful as the fire that burned in his mind.

"Me too…"

He said as his voice drifted off into a whisper, like a distant voice on the horizon. Emma leaned in closer to hear him, and when he saw this, he smiled again and leaned in slowly, whispering in her ears as her eyes widened and her heartbeat against her chest.

"I think we should get married."

"What?"

She reeled back, looking at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed with a warm red as she covered her face with her hands. They had been lovers for years, and every night she thought of the day, but never thought it would be said so quickly, so calmly, so…

Blissfully.

She smiled again, this time with the sun shining off her golden skin, though the pale orange and red leaves that fluttered in the wind.

"But what would we do, how would we go on living our lives?"

"As we do every day. I think we should both quit being a Hunter, retire to some distant village in the mountains, maybe own a farm."

She glanced at him from the side as his face was bathe in the golden light, a warm smile on his face as she knew he was imagining those days with his brother in arms as they sat around his faire in his wonderful and beautiful house.

"...And kids?"

"Kids."

His smile deepened and suddenly Emma loved him all over again, imagining the days when they would have kids running the halls of their home, the moments they would quarrel and make up, the day they would live together. The day they would love one another.

"I wouldn't mind having kids…"

"You'd make a great father. Just make sure Trevor and Oliva don't spoil them."

Gilbert laughed as Emma made a pouty face, the face of a mother being protective of her children, and he loved her all over again like the day he first laid his eyes on her.

"You don't need to worry there. Trevor has decided to retire as well. He wants to become an apothecary and sell medicines and such."

"Good, that would suit him well. After all, he loves helping people…. he doesn't like to kill."

Their faces darkened for a moment, only a moment as the burning screams of Kokono rested deeply in their heads, a scare that they would never forget and a time when they would never hate themselves for leaving the city of its horrid fate. They would carry these scars, and with them, their lessons.

"What about Oliva?"

Emma asked as they rode on, the darkness that covered their faces leaving them as they entered into the sun, the moment of dark fire forgotten into the depths of their minds.

"I don't know. She and…she and Arnold were quite close, so I have no idea what she will do."

They both recalled their conversation within the cave, hidden deep in the marshes. How Oliva secretly loved Arnold, but would never say anything about it, or act on it. It was too late now. They both knew that.

"I heard her mention once that she wants to be a teacher. She might start her own school for training new and young hunters."

"What, like them?"

Gilbert chuckled, gesturing up ahead to where Lance and Shawl were arguing with one another as they rode along together, as one poked fun at the other for running away during the Dragon's siege.

"They've grown up Gilbert. They've gotten stronger."

Emma smiled as she saw the two bickering, watching closely as she remembered the days when their group was still young, when their group was still inexperienced and just wasting the time of day away.

"Yeah…maybe they'll hold our mantles when we step down?"

"Pft…"

Emma chuckled as she began to laugh uncontrollably, watching as the two young Hunters continued to pick at one another like she and Oliva used to do when they were young.

"Those are big mantles to hold. You think they can do it?"

"You said it yourself, they're strong. Let them learn."

Emma sighed, watching the world of ferns and flowers pass her by. She didn't know it when they first came through here, but much of the woods hadn't been touched by the dragon. Instead, his path of destruction left only small scars in an otherwise large world of flowers and a sea of plants.

"...but what will we do?"

"Hm?"

Gilbert watched as Emma's eyes name dull, the smile on her face turning into a scowl as she stared at him with an intense glare.

"You don't expect me to just sit around the house all day doing nothing?"

Gilbert laughed when he saw her face, seeing her instead for the cute woman she was, all her warmth and smiles, all her expressions like fire to his cold world.

"No…no, I was thinking more along the lines of a baker. I've always wanted to cook…"

Emma's eyes widened as she heard this, her head turning to the sky above them as its pale blue expanse stretched out far beyond the mountains and past the forest.

She didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to continue talking as if the world wasn't there. To continue imagining the days she would spend with her husband and the life she would live in her dreams and her imagination.

"A baker…"

She didn't want this to end, and she prayed it never would.

"...that sounds nice.