AN: Well hi there. I was writing one story and then it got sad so I decided to write something happier...and um, it didn't work out very well for me because this came out almost as bleak, but it's going to be short— six chapters to be exact—and it's going to feel rushed a bit but that's okay because that's how I want it to be.

Well here we go...

The train moved erratically and Fiyero held tightly onto the strap above his head, wishing that the train would slow for just a moment. The train was packed with people—he couldn't look out of the windows at all. Every breath filled with the stench of the men; dirtied, bloodied, but all excited and happy—they were going home.

It was amazing how much noise the men did in the train, so much talking but Fiyero could not focus on anything they said. He would try and close his eyes but every time he did he would see things he rather never see again.

Home... He hadn't been home for three years. He couldn't wait for the moment that he entered his home and finally had a moment where he could relax.

Maybe he could forget everything that had happened in the past few years and enjoy his life as before.

How he wished that were so.

…

The train was starting to slow, everyone in the train cheering and smiling at each other. Fiyero, despite everything, felt himself join in. His smile widening the more they slowed down.

When they came to a complete stop and the doors opened Fiyero stayed still, he was pushed, hit, and almost knocked over, but he waited until they were mostly off.

He finally saw through the windows. Thousand of people filled the station. For a moment he saw those people; the children; the women; and men, all reunited and he'd see blood. It made his eyes lose focus on what he was seeing. He moved automatically, not having to think at all about anything. People around him were crying, laughing, smiling. Fiyero looked up at the blue sky and took a deep breath, holding his crutches carefully to him and making sure he still had his one bag on his back before taking a few steps forward.

He was slower than he used to be but he made it out of the platform alright.

He didn't pay attention to anyone, he knew no one would be there for him. His parents had declined and he understood why— they were busy.

The town of Narrapir, located in the middle of the lesser kells, was small. Everything looked ancient, or had it always looked that way?

Businesses were filled quickly with the soldiers and their families. Hostels were packed with lines. Fiyero took a seat at a bench near a small pond. He let the fresh air hit him; let the smell of fresh bread engulf his senses.

His stomach ached but he ignored it. Home was so close.

He took to watching the people but soon the men wore scowls brandishing guns. The town turned to marsh and trees, shots rang out and people screamed.

He snapped out of it, his heart racing. He stood back up, gripping his crutches tighter than before. Rest would have to come later.

He saw a few carriages, some with people beginning to board and a few empty ones, their owners looking for customers.

Fiyero went up to one of them. The man in front of it had a large mustache and hair that looked to be a wig, "Hero," He greeted Fiyero, shaking his hand, "thank you for winning this war for us! "

Fiyero didn't have a response. He simply nodded, trying his best to smile.

"Are you looking for a carriage?"

Fiyero felt relieved, a carriage ride home was exactly what he needed.

"Hero, I offer mine to you for a great discount. "

He was somewhat inconvenienced by that as he had no money on him. "Sir, I have no money on me, but once you take me home I will pay you. "

He was surprised by the change of expression on the carriage owners face. His happy and proud smile turned into disgust.

"This is not a charity. " The man simply said.

"I'm not looking for it either. " He replied before he parted. Fiyero swallowed back the dry spot in his throat, the other carriage drivers, having heard him say he had no money, turned their backs to him. With only a pair of clothes and a few bottles of water Fiyero walked off towards the west.

That was where home was.

He had been used to not eating for days so when his stomach growled again he drank water. Soon enough the blue sky began changing shades. He could see it happening. He licked his lips and marveled at the beauty of it, of the day nearing it's end. There had been times when he had a glimpse of the sky but what was in front of him had been more important, or it seemed like it had been. He stopped and stared, leaning into his crutches. He lifted his arm up to wipe at the sweat that covered his forehead and again breathed in the air.

When he returned home he would spend more time sitting down and just watching the sky. It would be nice.

He pulled a bottle of water out and began drinking, finishing the bottle in no time.

He eventually had to keep walking. With a lame foot and the setting sun he would be left out in the darkness.

A shooting star flashed across the sky, his heart pumped at the sudden movement of it and his lower teeth trembled. He tried to concern himself over his crutches, not wanting to break them with the force he was gripping them with.

Slowly he continued, following the path. There was nothing on his mind, his eyes trained on the ground.

The wind blew past his ear and he whistled to its tune, he created a melody to it which soon made him want to hum. But a lump formed in his throat and he stopped. He didn't feel like humming.

He stopped to take a drink again and to let his feet rest. While he was drinking his water he noticed a building out of the corner of his eye. At first glance he had assumed it was another hill in the land but once he looked at it he recognized it as a home.

Fiyero drank until he was fully satisfied, using some of his clean water to brush his hair back in an attempt to tidy it. His hair, once clean cut, was shaggy and unruly. His face was dark from the suns rays, dirtied, with a small scraggly beard. He used some of the water to clean his face, he couldn't look at his grimy hands when he was done, he tried washing everything away with the water but it was still on the floor.

The blood, the dirt…

He put the bottle away again and started to whistle again, anything that might get him to think of anything but the past.

…

The home was small, built into a hill, essentially hiding it from passerby's. He hadn't noticed that until he grew nearer. The roof was green with the grass and the front had moss growing on the wood. The grass was thicker and his foot, already dragging on the ground, made him struggle to get through the grass.

"Hello, is anybody there?" He called out, breathing heavily at the strength it took to pull himself through the thick grass. Nobody answered and Fiyero went up to the door. He held his crutches to one side and balanced himself to try the door.

It was locked.

Fiyero sighed and dug into his bag, looking for something sharp to pick at the lock. He had his knife, issued to him when he joined the war. He took it out of its sheath and stuck the end into the crook of the door wiggling it to free the lock.

When he heard a click he thought that the lock had broken but then the door opened and Fiyero was left standing there like an intruder.

"What are you doing? " A woman's voice startled him. Her entire body was cloaked by the shadows, her face covered with a scarf.

He apologized immediately, sheathing his knife and tossing it in the bag, "I'm so sorry, I thought your home was abandoned. I mean no harm I am only looking for shelter for the night. "

She chuckled hollowly, "I've heard that before. Turn around and go soldier boy. You'll receive no help from me. "

"It's just for tonight. I have no money to offer and I can't do much—"

"No. Narrapir is just a couple hours east of here. Now go away."

"Night will fall before I make it back. I have no horse—"

"That's not my problem. Leave. "

Fiyero sighed, exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to sit down, sleep, and just take a little time for himself.

"And tell your little friends to go too." She said, before shutting the door.

"I didn't bring any friends." He said, turning around and seeing a group of men coming up. Fiyero, no longer having a place to stay, walked off towards them.

"Don't bother," he told them, "You won't be offered a place to stay."

The relieved look they had on their faces fell at the same time. Just as his had when he was turned away. One of the men groaned loudly. The other two men grumbled and complained.

"Are you serious?" A red headed man said, looking between his other companions.

Another one shook his head, an eyepatch on his eye. "He can't be serious. We've been walking, we're all injured and we fought in the war. They have to let us stay the night."

A blonde man, considerably the cleanest and most healthy looking of them took a step past them, looking at the house in the hill, "I don't think we'd all fit in there anyway."

The redhead pushed himself forward. Fiyero saw the white fabric, stained with blood running down his lower left leg as he took his steps, "I don't care I just wanted to finally lay down. Somewhere where no one is trying to kill us."

"At least for a moment. That would be nice," The blonde man said, stretching his arms. "I guess we'll keep going."

"And risk ourselves in the dark?"

"What's another night of misery?" Fiyero said dryly, gathering his strength to try and keep going.

The redheaded soldier shook his head, "I didn't fight for them so I could be turned away for a nights sleep!" He growled, going ahead and continuing on his way to the house.

"Good luck. You won't be let in."

"Like hell I will. They can't stop me from finding a place to sleep."

"Viro, I'm tired too man but if we aren't welcome, we aren't welcome and that's that."

"Excuse me," The man, Viro, pounded on the door. "We've been traveling for a while now and we'd like if you would—"

"As I told your friend—go away. I don't offer rooms, I don't have the space and I don't want you here." She replied through the door. Fiyero slightly smirked at the expression of the man. He tried telling him.

"No, we will not be sent away. With accordance to the new laws, residents of all Ozian countries shall shelter soldiers returning home. You can't turn me away."

"With oral permission of the owner of the home." Fiyero commented.

The blonde man nodded, "It's true man, we better get going. We can build a campfire."

"I will not spend my night out in the open." Viro grimaced, trying to break the door down.

"That is against the law. She said no." Fiyero hovered back.

"She'll change her mind." Viro picked up a rock and threw it at a black stained window that he hadn't even noticed.

The glass shattered and the man went over to the window, brushing aside the glass with the hem of his shirt. Fiyero pushed himself closer.

"You broke her window man!" The blonde man exclaimed, taking a few steps back.

"Help me get inside." Viro asked him, but the blonde man shook his head.

"It's not right."

"We aren't asking to live here. " The man in the eye patch said, helping Viro in.

"You sleep outside then." Viro muttered, putting a leg into the window. The two disappeared inside and it went quiet. The door opened and Viro stood there, his back was to them and his hands were up in the air. He backed away slowly, a sword was pointed at his face.

There was a thud and Fiyero nearly dropped his crutches when he saw the cloaked woman go down to her knees, the other soldier disarming her. With great pain, he rushed forward. The blonde man came running forward as well.

"Hey!" He yelled at them but as soon as he held one of his crutches to fight them off the man in the eyepatch had kicked him in the foot. Fiyero fell to the ground in pain. The blonde man looked at him before going to his friend and pulling him away from him.

The woman's scarf had fallen off and they all stood still, in shock of her skin. It was green, something he had never seen in his life.

She took that opportunity to take her sword back and aim it at the men.

"Are you some sick Animal hybrid?" Viro spit out in disgust.

The woman tilted her head, "Is it very smart to offend the person who is holding a sword to your face?"

"We should go." The blonde man said, grabbing at Viro's arm and pulling him back.

"Yes, you should." The green woman agreed. The three of the men backed away until they were out of the house.

Fiyero was trying to get up, but he had trouble without his crutches that had been kicked away. The green woman looked at him, the sword still held high.

Fiyero didn't let his own stare linger in fear she would use the sword on him, but from the few seconds he had looked at her he could tell she was quite young.

He took another look and she was still glaring at him.

"I tried telling them that you didn't want them here," He explained, "I couldn't stop them."

"Clearly." She muttered through her teeth, "They shattered my window."

He didn't reply or have anything to say to that, instead Fiyero went on his knees to go get his crutches so he could stand. He could hop, but he was alfraid of tripping.

The woman pointed the sword at him, effectively stopping Fiyero from moving anywhere.

"I need my crutches." He said, pointing at them. He survived a war. He wasn't looking to die that night.

The green woman kicked the crutches to him. Fiyero took them and struggled to stand up. He hadn't had much practice yet with them.

Her eyes were focused on him, never wavering. He was used to eyes on him all his life and he had learned to keep an eye on everyone without them realizing.

So he watched her as she watched him. He went to his knees holding the crutches for support on either side before pushing himself up. It would be easy if his crutches provided a firmer support, but they didn't and he felt one of them slip. It slipped under his hand and Fiyero felt himself fall forward. He braced for the impact, dropping the other crutch so he wouldn't break his teeth.

But the fall never came, instead two arms held him up and he was able to find his ground with his foot. She helped him stand up. She was incredibly strong, or he had lost more weight than he previously thought.

He looked at her and his heart started racing, "Thank you." he said, holding himself up on a chair she yanked towards them.

She didn't reply, letting him go to pick up his crutches for him. He took them gratefully, getting himself balanced.

When he looked back at her again to thank her she was looking past him, eyes unfocused. The look a person had when they were no longer present or paying any attention. It was a look he knew well, a look that he understood.

He cleared his throat, "I'll be leaving you alone then."

She still didn't say a word. The women strolled past him to her broken window. Fiyero feeling as if he was intruding—which he was—began to leave.

"And tell your friends not to return."

"They aren't my friends."

As soon as he was out the door he felt the door smack shut. He closed his eyes at the harsh noise, jutting his hands up to cover his ears. He felt like he couldn't breath and he didn't like it. He forced his eyes open and made himself focus on walking. Just walking because he had a home to get to and that was all he needed.

He didn't make it far, in fact he had only taken a few steps before he decided that he wouldn't go any further.

He could sleep on the ground.

So Fiyero carefully lowered himself, knowing that come morning it would be a pain to stand back up. He took solace in the fact that this would be his first night sleeping without worrying about being attacked or killed.

He pulled his bag off of him and took out his coat and his knife. He folded the bag compactly and laid back on it, keeping his knife to his side in any case of emergency. His coat, he draped it over himself.

And he stared at the sky.

He was laying down for long before he heard footsteps. With his heart racing he sat up, grabbing at his knife.

His head turned and he quickly took in a deep breath. It was just the green woman.

"There's a lot of animals that come out at night." She said.

"Yes, but they don't near humans unless they are desperate for food." It was something instilled in him since he was a child.

"A lot of animals are desperate for food these days. And a man with a lame foot is quite the catching."

"They don't come close enough to people for me to worry about it." He said.

"You haven't been in the Vinkus for a while have you?" She asked him.

He paused for a moment, forgetting for a second that things changed since he'd been there, "No...I haven't." He answered truthfully.

She made a noise in the back of her throat, "Come inside before you get killed."

Fiyero was left speechless, unsure of what she had just said.

"Do you need help standing?" She said.

He nodded slowly, not trusting his voice without sounding as if he would cry. Fiyero packed his coat back into his bag, and slung it back over his shoulder. The green woman handed him his crutches and Fiyero got on his knees with them. She went behind him, putting her hands under his arms to lift him up.

Yes, Fiyero had definitely lost a lot more weight than he thought.

When he had first joined he was in peak form, and proud of it. He was clean, his uniform pristine, and he had his own club of woman weeping at his departure. A stark difference to what he arrived to—he was alone; wounded; dirty; unrecognizable. He didn't think he wanted to be recognized either. He didn't want to pretend to be something else when it meant nothing to him anymore.

He wanted to live a simple life now.

The woman let him go as soon as Fiyero found his footing. He trailed behind her and having feet that worked she was inside in no time. Fiyero took his time, though he tried picking up his pace in case she changed her mind.

He shut the door close with the bottom of one of his crutches.

"I will provide shelter for you for just tonight. I want you gone first thing in the morning." She said, going to the back of the house and disappearing before Fiyero was able to thank her.

His eyes roamed across the room, average but very neat. There was a small table to his left with scraps of paper covering it. An iron stove to his right beside a few cabinets. It was quite an open space, dug deeply into the hill. He saw a small bed in the back corner and his entire body ached to go over and lay down, but he didn't want to leave her without a bed. He moved towards a small rug on the floor, it was the next best thing to a bed.

"Take the bed." She said out of no where. Fiyero looked up to find her standing next to the bed.

He blinked a few times, "When did you get there?"

"You take the bed. You will have trouble standing if you sleep on the floor." She ignored his question.

He shook his head, "I don't want to leave you on the floor. I have a place to sleep tonight and for that I thank you."

"I didn't ask. Take the bed."

Who was he to argue?

He went over to the bed, "Are you sure?" He asked tentatively.

She nodded, taking a seat in her chair.

He smiled the best he could, letting himself sit on the bed.

Fiyero was wary of the whole exchange but once his back hit the sheets of an actual bed he was completely out.

Finally, after three years, a night of peace.

Thanks for reading!