Sadly, I glance at the remainder of the group lying by the fire. Today was the sixth harrowing day since we began our flight form the royal army, perhaps into the arms of another division.

I fall back against the soft sand, directing my weary eyes towards the heavens, hoping to find solace there. As I lie here, gazing into the stars, my mind settles on a place called Zefilia, a country bereft of war, corruption, and poverty. A place where freedom and peace, love and trust, all flourish under the loving care of mother nature.

I wish, I hope, no, I beg to some unknown force that someday I might live there, beyond the border that we are striving to attain. Perhaps in some later life, maybe soon. I would give anything to live there, free of the grief that haunts my soul. I could even live without the companionship of the friends that I've learned to love and trust: my new family.

No, I correct myself, I could never live without my soul. I redirect my view to the petite girl of 16 lying curled up by the fire, her face a serene mask of sorrow, flaming tresses of hair falling delicately about her shoulders in waves, framing her angelic face, blazing a trail through my heart. It throbs with want, aches as I watch the object of my desires. I wish that I had the courage to tell her what she is to me.

Swiftly, I turn myself away from this train of thought. If I confess, she would probably not speak to me, laugh or even leave the group. No, better to leave things as they are.

My longing mind fills with an immense weariness which can only come after seeing countless children die, slaughtered by the hail of iron death that claims them from the hills. I think of how my inevitable death could affect Lina as I drift of to the comfort of a dreamless sleep.