The south was burning.

Over the next few days, we visited village after village, added more and more smoke columns to the horizon, and witnessed the same scenes again and again.

Mothers begged and children cried, while fathers glared at us with hateful eyes. It took five men to destroy everything they had. Only five men were enough to uproot their entire lives. Just five.

Did they lament their own weakness?

After all, each village comprised thirty or even forty men, and yet they didn’t have the strength to resist. If only they had been a little stronger, this evil would have to spare their homes.

Village after village, the same scenes.

I will get used to it.

That naïve hope carried me through the first six villages. Only one more insult. Only one more glare. Just one more tear and my heart would grow cold. In the end, words should only be able to cut so deep before they come out on the other side. And everyone tires of the same dull stuff repeating itself over and over.

Back in my old life, the world had seen wars that took millions and millions of lives. Even modern small-scale wars would see hundred of thousands of humans draw their last breath. Every day there had been a “X people died in a suicide bombing somewhere far away”-segment on the news. Horrible on the first and second occasion. Boring on the fifth. Annoying waste of time on the tenth.

Mindless repetition makes stuff dull.

A thousand or two should be tolerable.

That had been my hope.

But it didn’t become easier.

Each scene was the same and yet so different. Different words, different clothes, different physique, different eyes, different fears.

Different humans.

Each news segment had concealed these things and reduced entire lives to a simple number.

But I didn’t have that luxury anymore.

Those eyes haunted me whenever I closed my own.

And when I lay awake, the clammy earth against my back, the stars would flicker and blur until they became an endless sea of reproachful eyes.

“There you are.” Thea’s words cut through my thoughts. “I was looking for you.”

“Hmm.” A noncommittal noise escaped my lips. My enthusiasm for long discussions had run dry after the tenth village.

“It was hard. Like really hard. Auntie was crying and.” A sigh interrupted her re-narration. “Anyway. They were shocked, you know?”

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, they really were. But they didn’t resist after last time. They believe in you.”

“Hmm.” Whenever we arrived at a village that trusted one of the scouts, I would let them do the talking. Less resistance, fewer nightmares. This time, it was Thea’s turn.

“Master Rolf wanted to see you. I think he wants to thank you. But I told him you are tired and need the rest.”

“Hmm.” I stopped for a moment. “Thanks.”

Silence spread between us.

Only the quiet sizzling noises of Thea’s torch could be heard.

But it wasn’t the calm and peaceful kind anymore. Instead, a bone-crushing wave that suffocated any noise had taken its place. A silence that itched below the skin and pushed people toward empty words just to paint over the discomfort.

Thea’s decisions had changed our relationship.

Or rather, some cracks would leave a mark even after time had healed all the wounds. And in our case, not much time had elapsed in the first place.

“Aki.” A few minutes later, Thea couldn’t bear the silence anymore. “Do we have to?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But they already agreed to leave with us. We don’t need to-”

“No.” I interrupted Thea before she could list all the reasons she had thought of. “We have to.”

“But they agreed-”

“We can’t!” My response was harsher than I intended. Were my nerves at their limit? “It isn’t about this village anymore.”

“But-”

“Thea! No.” I sat up with a sigh. “We burned all the other villages. This one will share that fate. It’s that simple.”

“I don’t believe you!” She gestured towards the surrounding ground. “If all of this means nothing, why would you lie here of all places?”

A wry smile appeared on my face. Maybe not everything had been broken between us. “We can’t. Even if we want to. What would you tell the other villages? We burned yours, but mine is special? And what would you tell the other scouts who burned down their villages? It can’t work. At best, we have another uproar when we return to the fortress.”

“That…” Thea’s voice died down. Did she feel shame? Regret? “But then… why?”

“To remind myself.”

“To remind yourself?”

“Yes. To remind myself of how weak I am.”

“Weak?” Thea’s eyes opened wide. “You are… weak?”

“I am.” A scant answer. I didn’t like this topic. Yet Thea’s incredulous eyes forced more words out of me. “One year ago, I arrived with nothing but the torn clothes on my body. How could I not be weak?”

My hand stroked the surrounding grass. Dry and discolored. And cold. This last proof of summer’s liveliness would soon disappear under a white blanket. Yet this proof also included marks I had left behind. Long and narrow furrows where my stick had loosened up the ground.

Another sigh escaped my lips. “A man should protect his ditch, huh? Looks like I can’t even do that.”

There was no reason to talk about raid-bosses or dragons or even mid-game mobs. Even low-level mobs would take everything from me. Even all my knowledge wasn’t enough to protect what I had built with my sweat and tears.

“But you’ve won once before.” Thea rebutted my self-deprecating murmurs. “And you fought against that Púca. You are strong!”

“I might kill a Púca or two. With some luck, even a hundred leprechauns. But then?” Hollow laughter echoed through the evening sky. “No matter what, individual strength won’t overcome sheer numbers. Therefore, I’m weak.”

Thea still looked like she wanted to add more, but I didn’t enjoy the prospect of more depressive reasoning. Hence, I pushed myself up and started my way back to the village. Nighttime would arrive soon and delay the villagers’ departure. Better get my bearings back.

“So you are weak because of us…” Thea’s conclusion reached my ears, but I didn’t respond. Would I exchange hundred of recruits for a handful of mercenaries? An answer so obvious there was no need to add further insult to injury.

The dirt track followed the irrigation ditch until we reached the empty fields. Behind that, I saw an all too familiar scene. Weeping and despair. Families deciding on what to take with them. Scouts shouting at those who were unable to cope. Resentment. If not against us, at least against the world.

My steps slowed down.

I didn’t want to be there.

It was already hard enough to see the despair in a stranger’s eyes.

“Aki. Come with me.”

I nodded and followed Thea.

On the fringes of the village, rather remote, stood another hut.

“Do you remember what I told you after Uno’s funeral?”

“Um?”

“About the three biggest regrets of a mother.”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded.

“To bury your own child.” Thea started to recount. “When I was young, I had a terrible fever. Like Uno. But father went out and hunted a deer and the soup gave me the strength to survive. Thanks to that, my mother never knew that regret.”

“Not being able to shelter your child.” She stopped in front of the hut and gazed at it. “My parents never failed to provide me with their protection. Even after my father had left us, even when we didn’t have enough for the two, my mother always gave me everything I needed. She never felt that regret.”

I kept silent, as I didn’t understand why she would tell me all of this. Was this an apology? A reconciliation offer? Or something completely different? I had no plan, but I accepted this gesture and listened to her words.

“Back then, there was another boy in the village. One year older than me. My future husband.” Thea opened the front door and entered the small room. “But after father had died, they abandoned these plans. Soon after, they moved to another village where he would marry the daughter of the village elder. Mother never accepted father’s death and their behavior worsened her condition. Not being able to find a partner for your child. My mother died with that regret.”

Lost in thought, Thea interrupted her narration and entered the sleeping room. Her fingers caressed the colorful linen stripes on the wall. One by one, as if she said goodbye to them. Only then did she continue.

“No son would marry into our family of two weak women. And I wanted to stay at mother’s side.” She stopped once more, preparing herself for her next sentence. “Because of me, my mother died with regret. Because of my egoism, she couldn’t leave with a smile.”

Die with a smile.

Those words echoed in my mind.

In a plain white room, a boy sat on a stool. He was drowsy from the sleeping pills, barely able to have a clear thought. Yet he still watched the dancing figure in front of him. Such a beautiful heroine. And yet the only question that remained in his mind was asked over and over again. Did she smile when she died? Had she been happy?

“With mother’s untimely death, the proposals stopped as well. Nobody wanted me.” Thea’s confession shattered the images in my mind. “The first time I visited Gladford was during the zenith festival. With all the beautiful girls dancing in the streets, laughing and kissing with the boys. And I just stood there and watched them because nobody asked me. If only I could be one of them. If only…”

Her sad laughter drowned her last words. “If only I wore such beautiful clothes, someone would love me. Then my mother would finally rest. But how would I have money to buy them? It was only enough for these worthless linen stripes. Never enough to catch someone’s eyes. But then you appeared and I… I’m sorry. I just saw that maiden and I thought she would take… I’m sorry.”

Not waiting for my answer, Thea left the hut and set fire to the roof.

It had rained in the morning, but the bottom layer of the brushwood was still dry enough and the fire soon enveloped the entire roof. Next, small pieces fell to the ground and ignited the remaining hut.

A black smoke column rose to the sky.

Another family history turned to ashes.

The brushwood cracked and hissed when the roof collapsed, sending thousands and thousands of sparks into the sky.

“Aki! Look!” Thea’s lively voice chased them toward the stars. “Fireflies!”

There was no need to pretend to be happy. No need to fake a strong front. It was okay to cry.

I wanted to throw those words at her, but they got stuck in my throat when a similar scene appeared from my memories.

Two tense youths on the night before an enormous battle, sitting beneath the stars. The boy torn between his urge to run away and the desire to protect the village. And the girl jumped, laughed, and gestured toward the sky.

“Fireflies. There are fireflies! They are Foy’s messengers.” The girl exclaimed. “Foy is the godmother. And the patron saint for lovers and homes. The fireflies are her messengers, bringing blessings to her believers.”

And for a moment, all their worries had disappeared.

Only a few months. Not even half a year.

And I once more stood underneath the night sky and watched Thea jump and laugh.

Beneath the dancing fireflies.