I remember parting with her on that hill under the luminous and starry night sky. So many aspects of that memorable evening left me in awe, questioning myself as to why I decided to leave the place of my birth – and most especially, the woman I loved. Out of all the images I can recall upon most vividly of her grief, the one that still haunts me to this day was the moment I had to let go of her.
Her beauty that night surpassed the radiance that any star could provide. We didn't talk much while we were on that hill; we didn't need to. I held her very tightly in my arms, as I knew it'd be the last time I would be able to for a very long time. As the seconds seemed to stretch on towards eternity, I felt the pain of leaving her hit me as waves on the rock during high-tide. Before I could even find it in me to cry, an unnatural light began to emanate behind us. I knew what it was, but I wished that it never came.
"It's time," I explained, still holding on to her.
She remained silent for a few seconds, but I could feel a few droplets of tears fall onto the side of my neck, curving down painfully and slowly along my shoulders, and finally falling down past my chest.
"I know you'll be shouldering a lot up there, but can you bear one more simple request from me?" Her low, soft voice whispered to me.
Without hesitation I replied, "Of course. Anything for you."
"Please come home to me. Please be my knight on a white horse," she cried.
I felt her tears stream down my body more rapidly.
"Don't worry. I'll come home for you. I don't want to be a hero for anyone else… just you. That's why I'm going to survive out there. I want to come back to you. I want us to be happy again. But…" As the light behind us became much brighter, I knew that I didn't have much time left.
"I know… you have to go now, right?" Although I was nearly paralyzed by the height of her pain, her tears stopped.
She wanted to be strong for me.
"I'll wait for you. Until the very end," her soft voice spoke again as she held me even tighter.
"I love you." I let go, and turned around towards the car that just stopped behind us.
Although our distance grew greater and greater, I could still hear her tender voice reply, "I love you, too."
The driver of the beaten up, old pickup truck I entered gave me a brief, respectful nod as I entered the passenger seat of the vehicle. He slowly began to maneuver the car in a u-turn back towards the way he came. As we drove away, I kept my eyes on my one and only love. The sight of her alone broke my heart. Her long, blond hair blew along with what was then a gentle wind, and streaks of tears began to glide down her delicate face once again.
And that was the last I saw of her. A rapidly growing screeching sound caught my attention as I knew something was drawing closer to where we were driving. As the noise grew to its maximum volume, I saw, at a near-instant, a fiery plane briskly descend from the night sky, crashing on the road behind us, and ending my last sight of Melinda.
It's been two years, and since then I've been in training to become a combat pilot for Estovakia, my home country. Although I was a simple working class man prior to this meaningless war with our bordering country, Emmeria, a draft was instated, and I was enlisted to the desperate Air Force, having lost continuous dogfights in the campaign against Emmeria, a surprising turn of events considering the history of some of our pilots.
I didn't think I was much of a pilot, but I really had no other choice. Through my training I was constantly conscious of what may happen to me. Despite how much I hated war, and despite how much I was really sick and tired of flying, I just wanted to get everything over with and return to the one I loved. I guess that's how my superiors began to recognize me as a "capable" pilot, although I really don't find myself, by any means, capable.
Although by the time my training was completed, the war with Emmeria was pretty much over and lost, our officers still kept us. They warned us that there were certain places where people began to rebel against our "glorious" government in a coup d'état. We were also informed that we'd be flying operations in our own soil, against some of our own people as a way to stop this coup d'état. They didn't give us exact details, but once again, due to what kind of position and place we were in, we had no other choice but to listen. I was assigned to a high-end, frontline SU-47 Berkut squadron, Uhlan. The name was quite fitting, as we were, essentially, lancers for the military we were under. Seeing that our aircraft were coated white made me smile a little inside, thinking about the promise I made to my love. She wanted me to be her prince on a white horse, and with this one precursor of sorts, I felt even stronger about coming through with my promise, and ultimately returning to her. Regardless of this, I was also very concerned at the fact we'd be fighting on our own soil and perhaps against some of our own cities.
If there ever was a time I prayed to god, it was then. I wanted my wife to be completely safe from harm throughout the impending conflict, and I prayed that there'd never be any kind of military operation going on around the area we lived.
The evening before my first deployment, I was restless and torn apart bearing the promise I made to Melinda, and the duties expected of me as a pilot of Estovakia.
