Guilt

He took a long sip of his drink as he sat quietly in the Inn. It took him a long time to find it, but through red eyes and tired legs he was able to stumble across the Send Off. He took another long sip as he remembered what Beret's mother told him. Alex then emptied it's content's in a fashion a drunk would be proud of. He sat in the last booth near the end of the inn so as to not draw attention to himself.

The Inn was a decent size with booths lining the walls and a number of tables in the middle around a large fireplace keeping the room warm. Rune lights lit up the room, their black markings showing through their light. The kitchen sat at the back of the Inn which doubled as a bar. To the right of the bar was a flight of stairs leading to the second floor where rooms were up for rent.

On his way here he was being constantly stopped and thanked for his service. It got so annoying that he took his Jacket off but his fatigues did little to stop the situation. He tried to take another drink to forget but found his cup devoid of liquor and sighed. "You know that that was your sixth cup, right?"

Flint walked up to the booth and sat another cup down before sitting himself across from Alex. "Do you want to talk about today?" Alex took the bear and took a long sip, Alex didn't feel like talking. Flint leaned back in the booth seemingly understanding his silence, "Look there." Flint pointed at the bar and Alex looked trying to appease the man so he didn't ask anymore questions.

He pointed to a woman behind the bar, she had slightly grayed hair and smiled great big while she poured another man's drink. "That's the woman of my dreams, Grace. Been following her around for nearly 30 years this spring, and I haven't regretted a second of any of it." Alex didn't particularly know where he was going with this so he took another sip.

"Alex, I need you to talk to me. Drowning in this self loathing will do nothing to honor his memory." Alex balled a fist and he swallowed the rest of his cup before sitting it down on the table, "I really don't feel like talking about it." Flint could see something was eating away at the young man's heart, and the drink only seemed to paint the picture for him better.

"Beret wouldn't like seeing you like this." Alex squeezed his hands tighter at mention of his friend and he began getting red, "How would you know what he would feel like?" Flint looked at him, "And you would." Alex slammed his hand on the table, "Of course I would! Because I'm his… because I was his friend." Alex felt his eyes tear up and he leaned back against the booth.

A moment passed and it seemed as if the drink had taken hold completely, "I made a promise I couldn't keep. We were supposed to go out and have drinks the day we got back." Alex slapped the cup off the table spilling what was left on the floor and drawing the eyes of the few patrons in the Inn. " I promised I would get him out of the hell he was stuck in. He trusted me to do that… and at the very end… he… thanked me."

Alex was nearly yelling and there was a stream of tears as he felt the headache again, "And then when I went and told his mother that I had failed to bring him back she thanked me for doing all I could… Why is it everyone is thanking me for failing at the one thing I had promised to do" Flint watched as Alex spilled out his guts and listened to each word carefully.

He laid his hands on the table, "I had nothing going in… and when I finally had something it was ripped away despite my greatest efforts." He wiped away tears, "His mother was so nice to me, the one who killed her son. And all of those people outside all thinking me for nothing. This stuipid thing." He grabbed his Jacket and threw it to the floor, "There all thinking me for senseless murder… Why…"

Alex held his head as the headache invaded his mind, "Why couldn't I save him? Why must I be so powerless when someone needs me? Why can't I switch… Why must I live, when he had someone to come home too and who was looking forward to seeing them?" Flint took hold of Alex's arm, "Your wrong."

Alex looked up with his green eye, "I'm right, no matter what you'll try to say. I have nothing here, and now, because of me, Beret's Mom has nothing." Flint tightened his grip, "It wasn't your fault, you had no idea his company would be targeted while you were away. You tried your hardest, but the will of the gods had spoken. It was his time."

Alex rubbed his eye, "Do the GODS, like torturing me so? Do they enjoy watching me squirm every night because of the nightmares? Do they enjoy the pain in my soul every time I think of him? Why would they spare me for any other reason but for their own amusement?" Flint let his arm go, "He died so you could live." Alex looked down with disdain, "So I could live?"

Flint nodded, "You're not useless. Do you remember the Labor camps?" Alex remembered the camps. The Afronese Kingdom made its own people work tirelessly to support the war effort. Those who didn't agree were sent to camps to work. "You saved all those people and led them through enemy lines and to freedom." Or what about those children in that Stele village, the ones you gave your rations too. You made sure they were fed and taken care of when you had no obligation to do so. You ate rats, so they could eat a good meal."

Alex nearly gagged at the mention, "You asked me why you were saved. It's because you were meant for something. Your special kid, not a nobody destined to work in a shop, or a forge, or an Inn. I've witnessed your accomplishments first hand and I got to say, you have more to do." Alex looked up, "What else could I do?" "Live." Alex felt tears in his eyes, "Live?"

"I order you to live. You can't bring Beret back, just like how I can't bring back the men I lost during the war. All we can do is try and live a full life they were robbed of. Why would you let their sacrifice go in vain when you have an opportunity to live a life they couldn't." Alex saw a single tear form at the edge of Flint's eye and he was reminded of something.

Flint was responsible for all the men under his command, their food, their arms, their lives. He decided which path was correct, and which was safest. He sent men to battle with speeches, and led them in many himself. Alex never thought about the strain, the guilt, the old man harbored himself. In that split second of realization all his own problems seemed so small.

"General… I-I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about you…" He sat back, "I have lost many good men, some I could have saved, and some I couldn't. I carry each of those names with me, and I try to live every day for those men." Alex felt the headache reside, "Thank you… For everything…" Alex then Promptly passed out on the table sending cups over the edge.