Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tamora Pierce.

The sun was so bright that day; I remember feeling like someone had dipped the world in ivory. I'm sure it was hot, but more so than the heat, I remember my sword kept slipping in my sweaty hands. The design on the hilt bit into my calloused palm as I gripped it harder.

"Now fight," he told me. An ugly sneer on his face, an over confident gleam in his eyes. He spoke like I was a child he was training, but I was no child and this man did not have my best interest in mind. I squinted against the bright day and charged, slicing the man with my sword, I felt ligaments tear and felt a sharp jolt when my sword struck against bone. The Sword slipped in my hand and dark blood splattered onto my arm. With difficulty I yanked out my sword and wiped it on my tunic. For me that was the end of the war. That's the last man I killed, how else can you document the end of the war for yourself. The rest of the troops of Scanran fled. None of my men cheered, you can't cheer after battle, after you've gutted men and now stood in there rotting bodies. Cheering just isn't an option. I dismounted and at last sheathed my sword. I walked Peachblossom from the death site and into the shade of the trees where I met Dom, who had been fighting along side me.

"Kel, are you all right?" he pointed to the gore across my tunic and arm. I nodded. I hadn't had time to get into armor; I realize it was foolish to rush into battle. My head was pounding like a smith beating a sword into shape, a hard pound and then a dull throbbing, then a pound again.

"I can't believe my glaive was broken," I sighed, it would be hard to get another glaive as good as my old one here in Tortall.

"Yeah, sorry about that, but hopefully you won't need it for a while," his voice sounded happy, but he didn't grin, again it was impossible to smile when the dead lay stretched out before you and the smell of freshly spilt blood was ripe in your mind.

"Lets clean this up," if there was one thing worse than fresh blood it was decaying bodies.

"Alright men! Lets get these people buried," Dom yelled, most men groaned, some didn't care any more, and some, those new in battle, looked very pale. There wasn't any glamour in it, we just slowly picked up bodies and dug and dug until the bloody dirt was saturated into our hides. Finally when darkness set upon us we were done. We rode back to Haven and slept, the next day we celebrated, and some men boasted of those they had killed, but no one really tried to remember. No one told about how they had spent hours trying to scrub all the blood from their bodies or how they had cried as they killed those men over and over in their dreams, but that's not what people want to hear. They want glory, the ironic truth is that there is no glory, and so those that boast tell lies and let not one word of the horrible truth fall form their lips.

Months later I can comfortably say that the war is over. Now I'm actively pursuing other interests, or should I say being pursued.

Kel twined her fingers through Dom's; they finally had a moments rest. Dom had taken off from the Own for a little while, he had come to stay at the palace with Kel, they had soon become involved, but no one could call them lovers quite yet. Kel watched the sun die from her balcony and she and Dom went off to dinner.

~~Topazwolf~~

Love is lost, but not forgotten and time is won, but for a moment.