Kaim struggles with his memories of Sarah and Lirum resurfacing as he tries to sleep. Set shortly after leaving for Grand Staff in disk one. The story contains dark undertones of both death and war.

- Stillness -

It is of death; it is of life; the beginning and the end. It is the silence that piercingly echoes in every mortal's mind. That moment between heartbeats when there is nothing but the stillness. It is this stillness which most humans spend their lifetime fearing. It is the moment in between life and death, when balance hangs in oblivion.

Could this stillness sound their last heartbeat?

Will there be another?

How many more will follow?

…Enough heartbeats for a month, a year, a decade?

It is a moment that I never fear; I already know the answer. They, the mortal's, are the lucky ones. They will never understand that, too blinded by their fear of the unknown. But it is that unknown that gives them life – it shapes and defines their existence on this planet.

In this world, my body is no longer my own; my beliefs are also no longer my own – bought, paid, and sold to the highest bidder. My fears, my principles, are traded and bartered for the highest price. A price that is too high for most mortals, but one that I am willing to auction off without (much) remorse.

Even worse - my mind is not my own. I see images clouded and vague, only sketches of reality… Parts of the whole that are comprised of fragments and pieces. My memories were stolen, treated as a commodity by someone I once had trusted.

…At least, I believe, I trusted. (Do I still trust him?)

I try to rest, but the act of sleeping after a thousand years is almost a mockery to my existence. When I close my eyes all I can see is – nothing. Nothing that means anything to me, nothing that I can understand, and most of the time, nothing but the dark abyss.

Sometimes, however, images flood my dreams. My mind cannot make any sense of them. I believe my heart refuses to.

I can picture a girl, a child, eyes full of youthful eagerness. Who is she? (Was she?) Is she a ghost of the past or a nightmare of the future? At times, I do not want to remember. Seth believes in the past, while I have chosen to believe in the ignorance. There is something almost soothing in the pain. Maybe there is a fate worse than forgetting… remembering.

Sometimes in my dreams there is also a woman. I might not see her face, but she is beautiful. That I know. It is not by physical appearance - that is of little relevance. It is her warmth I feel, also her compassion, love, and kindness. I almost allow myself to feel whole in the moment. Almost.

But then, like my memory… her existence becomes blurred. Her happiness is ripped away by a solitary event trapped in my mind. I do not want to remember that moment. I want to forget. I need to forget. (I need to remember?)

A cliff, a churning ocean… a flower?

No, these do not mean anything to me. The past is best forgotten, Seth is misled in her beliefs. Right?

So in the darkness, I desperately try to forget. I focus on what I have become, a hired mercenary of war. These memories are fresh. Even after a thousand years, each battle is eerily similar to the last. The uniforms and countries may change - the end results never do.

Ready.

The corpses litter the battlefield - one faceless nameless soldier after another.

Aim.

The pungent odors of death sweep across a once quaint countryside.

Fire.

Fallen soldier's limbs still twitch from an involuntary reflex.

Death.

The dying pleas of a young cadet, his final breath, his final heartbeat… then the stillness.

It is their eyes I remember most. The glazed look when their bodies cease to function. It is not falling into a peaceful slumber such as in Hannah's departure. It is a look defined by negative emotion: fear, regret, anger and bitter hatred. It is a look that would drive the inexperienced soldier insane to witness firsthand. It is a look that only the crows circling could ever find grotesque beauty.

Is wrong that I am envious of these men? They are what I can never be…

So I lay in bed. I have slept in countless over the centuries. But this time, I feel something else struggling to surface in my dreams. Something warm? Something… maybe someone…?

No. I want to forget. I must forget. I will forget. (I will remember?)

I can feel my heart's rhythm against my chest. I also can sense the stillness: the milliseconds between each heartbeat. In those moments I am not either living or dead, but belong to neither realm.

Again, I close my eyes and focus on the memories that I choose to relive… those that my mind can most easily fathom.

Ready. Aim. Fire. Death.

(Remember?)