This is my 29th fanfic! Pretty short; I did it in half an hour. Proofread already. The inspiration fo this fanfic came last year, but I only came round to writing it today. Enjoy!

Moving on

"Eliwood," Maple the tactician said softly, seeing the lord silently leaning on the rails of the ship, looking out to the evening sky and the silken surface of the ocean. "Are you fine?"

Eliwood nodded without a word spoken. Just days ago, he had watched his father die right before his eyes, at the hands of Lord Nergal.

"We have to move on with our mission, don't we?" he replied. "I can't let my grief end it all."

Maple nodded, knowing she would never understand what Eliwood was facing now. He had come on this journey in search of his father, only to arrive in time to watch him die. It probably seemed pointless for him to stay on in the army. But despite it all, he had chosen to stay fighting.

"I'm really…sorry," Maple replied, not daring to look up. "We should have hurried here." Why does life have to be so cruel sometimes?

Eliwood murmured in reply, sadness edging his voice. Sighing, she turned away and left.

"Dorcas?" She found herself next to the heavily built fighter, who was leaning against the mast. He turned and smiled gently, sadness still lingering in his eyes. Maple knew that he had left his handicapped wife Natalie to continue to fight in the army. Why he had made that choice, she did not know.

Timidly, she cleared her throat. "I was wondering," she said. "Why did you come to join us, instead of staying and taking care of your wife?"

Dorcas just smiled. "It's better for me to join the army and try to fight off the enemies. In the end, I'll be keeping her safe too, in a way." Then he turned away. "But it's not only for her. It's for Elibe. Leaving my wife, it's a sacrifice I don't mind making if I am helping to rid Elibe of the enemy. It is hard sometimes…but after all, if I you don't win this war, no one is going to be safe."

Maple nodded with understanding, wondering how much he really minded leaving his wife. He could not leave now, after swearing to stay with the army. But was he really alright with being away from her so long?

Maple left, walking around the deck. At the stern of the ship, she found Marcus by his horse, giving it a few sprigs of hay to eat.

"Good evening, Maple," he greeted her as she came.

"How have you been?" she asked. He looked up, not saying anything at first.

"Fine," he answered. "Losing my lord is something hard for me to get over…but it cannot end my duty to him. I continue to fight for Pherae."

Maple smiled at his faithfulness. But yet again, she thought. He doesn't have to put himself through this battle. He fights for his lord, not for me. This war is none of his business. So why did he come?

"Why did you come?" she asked. "Why did you come to fight here, if you fight for your house?"

"Because…" he said, thinking. "Because it is only right. I am not only a citizen of Pherae, I am a citizen of Elibe."

Nodding, Maple looked up to the sky, the stars starting to appear.

As Maple searched for Lowen and the dinner he usually cooked for the army, she found Matthew sitting by the bow, eyes deep in thought.

"Matthew, it's time for dinner," she called. "Don't you want to eat yet?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

Was he still thinking about Leila? That Ostian spy, she was killed on Dread Isle. It was only when they found her body, and Matthew had taken her to be buried, that she had found out about their relationship. How is it like? To lose a loved one before your eyes, to see them dead? How could the person continue to live on?

But Matthew lived on. With a grin, he turned to her and said, "And how about you? Don't you want dinner?"

He could hide sadness so well. But deep inside, she knew, the pain was unbearable.

Did Leila really have to die? Did anyone really have to suffer?

Sitting down to eat, Maple looked about at her army members' faces. They were lit by the firelight, thirty different expressions, all carrying their own story, hiding sadness, concealing hatred, but all enjoying this one, warm meal. Despite all the sadness, all the suffering, they were willing to move on and continue to fight on by her side. So I must do my job right.

And for the sake of the world, we must move on.

There you go. I hope you found it at least...thought-provoking? I'm not sure that's the word, but that's how I'd put it.