It's been almost three moons since I watched the sun set from the side of Mount Fuji. I have not brought myself to bare witness to the same event since. As the sky above and the ground below burn golden, I find shelter in the darkest recess of my cabin.
I am not to return to Greece.
Twenty seven season ago, I asked the God of War to take me to the land of Chin. It was there that I betrayed her for the first time. It was there that I promised myself that her path was my path. That I would stand beside her, behind her and before her when the time came for each.
I cannot step foot on the shores of our homeland, because she is not with me.
It is easier now to think of the pain that we have caused each other then it is to think of her smile. The last time I touched her was when I set light to her pyre. Her skin was as cold as the stone we sat upon as she disappeared from my life.
I have seen too many friends laid out upon beds of wood and oil. Their final rest before Elysium, Heaven, Hell or Hades. I had been to most of them and cannot say they differed much between.
That ever pursing shadow, caressing our cheeks and whispering the names of those we have killed, finally it has taken her from me.
I could do nothing but stand proud beside her, watching as the flames hungrily consumed the flesh of my friend.
One more name now whispered in my ear.