A bitter wind picked up a bunch of dead leaves and sprayed them in the air as a lone figure walked through the barren trees, a bouquet of white orchids in hand. There were no people bustling about in the towns; all shops were closed, the streets deserted. Cold silence settled on Bermesiah, occasionally disrupted by the rustling of more dead leaves and the quiet steps of the stranger. She walked gracefully, her scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. A red poppy was pinned on her hair.

It was easy to believe it was autumn when the sun still dared to shine, when the trees still had on their leaves of red, gold, and orange. But all the leaves were sinking into the earth, the exposed branches shivering in the blustery weather. She wished winter would hurry up; at least the snow could hide all this ugliness away, covering everything with sparkling white beauty. Right now it didn't seem winter or autumn. It just seemed so...cold. And desolate.

She stopped before a large earthy mound that was already covered with hundreds of clusters of flowers, indicating that many people had come to pay their respects to their heroes. Behind the mound stood an ornately carved pedestal with over a dozen statues of fine young warriors with their individual weapons drawn out, expressions of courageous determination etched onto their faces.

"It's cold..."

'The Grand Chase, Heroes of Bermesiah, Defenders of Justice and Vanquishers of All Evil'', the plaque read, along with a bunch of names scribed below. She didn't spare a glance at the names; she already knew them by heart.

People far and wide across Aernas flocked here once a year, the grave of all the heroes that supposedly reposed in eternal rest under the earth. She bit back a wry laugh– that all seventeen heroes would lie under here! How absurd! Most of them weren't even human, having an immortal or near-immortal lifespan. It was something so many people admired, even envied, yet she did not feel the joy of having such. Right now it felt like a curse.

Most people had come and gone; she was alone. Her friends, those whose lifetimes had expired too soon, or had been claimed by their many battles were the only ones that rested beneath now.

"Humans." she murmured. "Why do they have to die so soon?"

They were her friends. No, perhaps even more, like brothers and sisters. She had fought with them, laughed with them, cried with them. And they promised that the Grand Chase would always be together, that nothing would change.

It was a shame that humans never kept their promises. Such fickle creatures, they were...

Amy was gone. So was Ronan. And Jin. And Elesis. And Arme. Even Lime and Asin were there. Mari, Rin and Ryan were supposed to stick around a bit longer, but they were killed as well. How was the reincarnation of a goddess dead?

They were the Grand Chase, but that didn't mean they were invincible. They have fought so many battles and bloody wars; it'd take more than all the gods' blessings combined for them to escape totally unscathed. Death was inevitable, yet the loss still stung painfully.

The others were still alive, she consoled herself. But they might as well be dead. The demons had returned to their respective clans and dimensions once the Chasers began to die. Lass had gone with his half-brother to Haros to learn to better control the "blue flame". Dio had invited Zero to join the Burning Canyon Tribe as a General Commander, and having no goal since Duel was defeated, the Wanderer had accepted. She hadn't heard from any of them since.

She cringed at the memory of Sieghart, who had been with his granddaughter throughout her life, silently begging her to stay with him as time slipped by...and he, too, had left with a wild, vacant expression on his face once his last remaining family member had faded before his eyes. Rumours said that he was going back to the Highlander Gods to demand them to restore his mortality, so he too, may have the death he craved.

But Death was what the Prime Knight needed; through his immortality, he was still human. But she was an elf. The average elf lived for at about almost a millennium, if not more, so that means she had quite a few centuries to go before her soul was called to join her ancestors.

Physically, she had matured splendidly. Her figure had grown quite slender, she had grown a good foot taller, and her hair that now fell past her back was permanently cream-white, which symbolised the perpetual essence of light within her that marked her a true light-elf.

It had been centuries since she had travelled as a member of the Grand Chase, yet the memories were cherished and loved, not a single detail forgotten. She looked towards the statues, which were looking quite rusty. She saw her, as a mere child, wielding a bow and arrow with a calm smile. She saw Elesis, her swords drawn as she charged with a battle cry. She saw Arme, her staff poised for an attack. She saw–

"Who are you?" A gruff male voice came from behind.

She quickly shook her head, letting her hair cover her ears. Humans these days had very mixed opinions about on their elven counterparts, so it was best to be safe. Not wanting trouble, she quickly began to walk away.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

She heard footsteps behind and quickened her pace. How could she have let her guard down so easily? Whoever he was, he was fast, catching up to her so quickly. He shot out a hand and grabbed her cloak. "Turn around." He commanded.

Instead, she wriggled free, flipping out her Composite Bow. But she only fired a couple of shots before she felt another person behind her, with the cold metal of a pistol sharply jabbing her head. "Drop your weapon." The second person ordered.

"Tch!" But she released her grip, allowing the bow to clatter onto the ground as she raised her hands up. "I have no money."

"We're not interested in money." The first man scoffed. "We're just wondering why you were snooping around. Looking for treasure, perhaps? Or a quick shot of fame by despoiling the statues?"

Despite the tension, her lips twitched. "Now why would I despoil my own comrades' faces?"

"What?"

"Do not mock us. The Grand Chase is no more; it has been many years."

"A year is no more than a day to an elf." That did it. In their surprise, the grip on the gun had slackened just enough for Lire to kick aside her captor and snatch back her bow, hundreds of years of training allowing her to deftly dodge the bullets from a farther range. She did a series of leaps and jumps as she fired shots of her own.

"Lass!" she heard the shooter yell to his accomplice. Her movement abruptly stuttered. Lass? But they were supposed to be in Haros, were they not? They were alive, and here?

The split second of uncertainty proved her demise; she felt an arm grabbing her torso and two fingers pressing her neck, and she fell limp.

She heard voices. And her neck was sore...they took her scarf? Moving her limbs just by a fraction of a degree, she heard the slight clink of metal brushing about; they chained her. Well, at least they didn't gag her or torture her or anything like that. Hopefully they didn't break her weapon...

"It's a Composite Bow!" They talks in hushed whispers. Her elven ears, however, missed nothing.

"Interesting...so she could be a descendant of one of the Chasers. I recall that there were only two elves."

"She must be from Lire, I'm sure of it. Her face looks the same..."

"Well, her and the orange elf were quite smitten with each other, were they not?"

"..." Silence except for the cracking of a fire. Oh, they were in a cave. No wonder the ground seemed so hard and damp. Her limbs were freezing, how far was the fire? It took her innermost willpower not to shiver as she continued to feign unconsciousness.

"...guess so."

"Elf, you can get up. I see you shivering." Lire sighed, albeit a bit glad. At least she could stop pretending; she opened her eyes. In front of her sat Lass and his half-brother, Lupus. As demons, they had also matured slowly, time only having enhanced their grace and power. Lupus had somehow managed to keep his hair cut exactly the way it had been during his time with the Chase, while Lass's had grown into a shaggy mess that was only kept back by his headband. The hostility was still evident in their eyes as they appraised Lire, but now had a tint of curiosity as well. "Who are you?"

"I think I have already said who I was."

"I don't like back-talking." Lupus fingered his Eyeteeth.

Lire sighed; Lupus always had been like that, and the fact that that didn't change somehow cheered her despite her situation. "I am Lire Eryuelle, The Elven Archer, the sole Nova of Eryuelle Island as well as the 'Peacemaker' of Grand Chase. You are Lupus Wilde, Revered Bounty Hunter of Haros, and you are Lass Isolet, Striker Master of the Silver Cross Assassins." She looked on calmly as the siblings looked convinced, just a tiny bit.

"You're not Lire's great grand-daughter or anything?"

"You underestimate the lifespan of us elves." Her feet were tingling painfully. "Can I sit up...?"

"Shall we trust her?" Lupus glowered suspiciously.

"I can tell you checked my pockets. I have no weapons."

Lass cut her bindings, allowing Lire to drift closer to the flames, absorbing its warmth. It felt very nice to her frozen fingers.

"Are you really Lire? She always had golden hair."

"Yes, I did." She flexed her fingers as she felt them tingle, signalling that they were turning back to normal. "But my hair now represents my being of a pure light-elf." She looked up. "Why have you returned?"

"To see the monument. We didn't realize…" Lass silently looked down "…that such a long time has passed here while we were in Haros."

Lupus grunted. "Idiot, I told you that the time flow is different in Aernas. But you kept saying, 'No! I'm not going back till I control the blue flame and not hurt anyone else!' I swear…"

Ignoring him, Lass turned to Lire, "Is everyone else…?"

"No." She said. "The other demons have returned to Elyos, but you already know that. How are they?"

"Dio and Ley got hitched." The Hunter smirked. "You wouldn't believe how much they yelled and whined about it, but they've got it good. I saw Zero at the ceremony, too. You'd think he and that sword of his were next to get married, the way they talk to each other."

A faint smile traced Lire's lips as she conjured the mental images in her mind.

"But what about the others?" Lass pressed on.

"Gone."

"Gone?"

"All the other humans of the Grand Chase are dead. Two hundred years passed in Aernas, Lass. No human, however legendary of a fighter, can last that long." By the gods, was she going to cry again? No, she was not that pathetic. She quickly attempted to push them back to their sources. "Everyone's gone."

For those two hundred years, Lire had constantly told herself that she was happy. Maybe not utterly ecstatic, but okay. She still had her elven family, her home, and honour as an elven warrior of light. But nothing could be compared to the memories she had with the Chase, with each of the girls with their crushes, the tragedies that occurred. And now they were nothing more than a fading part of history. Even her elder brother Ladmir who had always been so protective and dear to her was married now, too.

Suddenly she felt angry. All the demons were together, happy. The Haros brothers were happy, too, or at least not alone. Everyone else was in the Netherworld, probably playing and patiently waiting for their rebirth. Why was she and Sieghart the only ones so miserable?

"Can you tell me?" His voice was low.

"Perhaps some other time." She looked around, and saw the bunch of orchids lain in the corner, a few of its stems broken and the petals slightly crumpled. She got up, retrieved both the flowers and weapon, and began to stride out of the cave. "It was good seeing you." She said flatly.

Remembrance Day. There had been almost two hundred Remembrance Days in her lifetime so far, but it still felt painful.