Interlude III


"Why now, huh? I'm still young... ish. In the prime of my life. Probably could afford to cultivate some healthier living habits but, let's face it, who couldn't? Even the notary clerk thought it seemed awful pessimistic of me, like I'd somehow curse myself by anticipating the worst case scenario. She's got a point, but a life in the military teaches you to expect those scenarios, to prepare for them, to endure them. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.

"The lawyer himself said the recipients of this Will might find it a little strange, this recording. Macabre, I think was the word he used. A voice from beyond the grave. Most folks just do it pen-and-paper style, sealed in a neat little envelope and read by some stodgy executor with a nice suit and a crap haircut. But contracts of that sort are as thin and tearable as the stationary they're written on. Perhaps it's paranoid of me, and indeed, paranoia is one of those beasts with an insatiable appetite, but I've forged and redacted enough official documents in my time to know the paper says only what the reader wants it to say. This recording will never be altered, and no one will take away my voice.

"But… it is going to be difficult... and probably is very difficult listening to me now. Believe me, if there was something I could do to change that, I would. And I'm sorry.

"So, recording instead of paper, and now instead of later. Truth be told, I got the idea after the Promised Day. The ink slingers are calling it a thwarted coup against Führer Bradley, but my inside skinny says a few of the more perceptive folks are starting to point fingers. Hell, so long as they're pointed away from us, I don't care. The battle ended about a month ago. Feels like a lot longer. Feels like yesterday. A lot of good people were hurt, some of 'em my best friends. My comrades. Some are dead now. I will never see them again. Never hear their voices again, or drink with them, or play chess with them. Along with our hilariously expendable lives, we soldiers have to contend with the prospect of the echoes we leave behind, the ripples. The fact of the matter is that, as a military force, many will curse us, damn us, besmirch our names and our careers long after we are gone, conflating our government with our personal humanity. A legacy stained in blood.

"And then there are some of us who won't leave a legacy at all. Our names will get blotted from some ledger, and we will be forgotten. If there is nothing left to remember us by, then what's to say we ever existed in the first place? I used to fear being turned into a pariah. Now, more than anything, I fear being turned into a ghost.

"In that case, perhaps falling in love was a way of hedging my bets. A way of knowing that, at the very least, long after I'm gone and that green flag is covered in six feet of Central dirt, someone will remember me. And they might hate me for it, for being a coward, for being arrogant, for trying to put a giant wooden stake through both our careers. They might hate me for dying before I ever got the chance to tell them how smart... how honest they are. How rare, how beautiful, it is, just to be able to live in the same world as them. To be able to exist together, for some short, bright space of time, a little room of our own in this madhouse of a universe.

"Because though she may curse my name, it's still my name. Some memory of me. Some echo.

"Maybe it's even simpler than that. Maybe I loved her because I could do nothing else, even though...

"… even though, I know she didn't love me back.

"I don't regret falling in love, gentlemen. I regret not being able to stop, and continuing to believe that someway, somehow, if I put every iota of my heart and soul into loving her, it would somehow be enough.

"Of course it wasn't. It never will be. I regret not being able to see that, and knowing I never will.

"Love is difficult. Unrequited love, even more so.

"In matters of the heart, do what you must. But make sure there's something of you left, at the end of it all. And to... well, you know who you are... do us both a favour and live well. Live long. If you don't completely hate my guts and want to do something to remember me by, then have a happy life. And to the one who has your heart... take good care of it.

"I don't want to talk about that anymore. I'll lose my nerve, I think.

"My third regret... well, a regret we all share, to some extent, is Ishval."