Author's Note: This came to me just last night so if it's a little iffy in some parts, I apologize. Hope you enjoy though. Please R&R!
It's quiet. Just after the sun set over the horizon on the western edge of the city. I can here the crickets begin their serenade of chirps outside the window as they emerge from their hiding spots to frolic in the peaceful nighttime atmosphere. The moon is full tonight, providing just enough light to the dimly lit room. The fireplace burns brightly just in front of me, wood cracking as the embers begin to consume it. Warmth spreads across the room. It is a relatively new feeling for me. Because of who I am and what I did, I won't be able to mention my name. People just call me Blaze.
I sit in a comfortable arm chair inside my home just on the outskirts of Oured, the capital of the nation in which I reside, Osea. It's a peaceful place right now, ruled by a leader who preaches peace and goodwill towards our fellow human beings. His name is Vincent Harling, 48th President of the Osean Federation. I had the privilege of meeting him once before. It was about a year ago, almost to this very day. He is a handsome looking man for his age, gray hair beginning to show in the brown hair that he sports. But beyond his physical stature lurks a mind and a will unparalleled to anything that I've ever seen. This was the man who dared to defy the odds and pull two places engulfed in a pool of hatred and discontent back together and make them the best of friends once again. People say that he is the reason we are not at war anymore. That's what I believe as well. Though, I may have had a little credit to my name as well.
It was at this time last year that Osea and our neighbor across the ocean Yuktobania were engaged in a fearsome and bloody war. I fought in that conflict. I was a pilot in the Osean Air Force, assigned to the Sand Island Detachment of the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron. It was in September of last year, 2010, that the full scale of the war reached that small island in the middle of the ocean. I had been sitting in my quarters listening to some of my old records, the ones that everyone else laughed at because the bands were considered out of sync with the times, when I was herded into the briefing room along with my fellow squad members Alvin Davenport and Hans Grimm. We sat there for about fifteen minutes waiting for our squad commander to arrive. It was an odd feeling that came over me at that time. Where was everyone else in the squadron? There were a total of twelve of us in the Detachment, but Alvin, Hans, and I were the only ones present. I knew that the rest of the squad had been out on maneuvers that morning, but they should have been back by now. So where were they?
It was about at that time that Captain Bartlett waltzed into the room. His face was unshaven and his short hair was a mess on the top of his head. His eyes burned through the three of us as he sat down in his desk. He immediately told us to shut our mouths so he could get his thoughts together. Alvin and I joked that the High Command had reprimanded Bartlett once again for his tactics that garnered much criticisms.
It was then that I noticed that we had been joined by another member of the squadron. The only female pilot, Kei Nagase. She sat down next to me on my right and didn't even look at me. Her face was completely pale and white, her body almost trembling beside me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but Bartlett began speaking again. He told us of the attack on the squadron that had occurred that morning and that we were the only ones left. I couldn't believe it. I had known some of the pilots that had been up in the air that morning. I couldn't believe they were gone that easily. But it was true, I had to accept it. We were the only ones left. Hans wasn't even a full time member of the squadron, so that left Bartlett, Kei, Alvin, and myself as the only pilots left in the Detachment. That was the beginning of it all.
Within a week, we were at war with Yuktobania. Our naval port at St. Hewlett had been devastated and Sand Island itself was bombed. Bartlett was shot down over the ocean and could not be located by our rescue craft. In the battles that followed, Alvin and Nagase put me in command of the squadron. Nagase was technically the senior officer present, but she maintained that I would make a better flight lead than she would. After Sand Island, Hans joined us in the sky. We came to be known as the Four Wings of Sand Island, as named by the now famous journalist Albert Genette, who first brought us into the public's view after that first week of the war. Alvin and Hans seemed to relish in the spotlight, but like me, Nagase seemed to shy away from it. We found each other to be remarkably similar in our view on the conflict and what should be done. We wanted this war to stop. There was no point to it in our opinions.
There were others involved besides the four of us. One of my closest friends was an old mechanic on Sand Island named Peter Beagle, but we just called him Pops. There was a mysterious aura about him for some reason. We didn't learn what it was until much later, but Pops was the kind of person we could talk to about our problems and not worry about him telling anyone else. He kept secrets for us, let us tell him about stuff that was troubling us, provided an asylum from the harsh realities of the war. I can still see his warm smile and large form providing a sanctuary for me in times when I began to doubt myself. I spoke to Pops often about what was going on in my head. He too had been a fighter pilot like me in the past, when the previous war had ended fifteen years prior to this one, so I could relate to him. There was no one who I respected more during or after the war than him.
I regret to inform you that earlier this year Pops suffered a stroke and was forced into the intensive care unit in an Osean hospital. The doctors predict that he will recover, but it is doubtful that he will be able to walk without assistance again. It saddens me to see that happen to a man like Pops. When he was on the ground he was a warm presence for us. When he was in the air he could be as intense a fighter as I've ever seen. I've visited him many times in the hospital, as have the rest of us. Despite his condition, he's still the same old cheerful person he was when I met him. Pops will never change and nobody wants him to.
The war dragged on for another month and Osea went on the offensive against Yuktobania. From the air, we watched as the our armies wreaked havoc on the Yuktobanian homeland, marching steadily across the terrain. It was at about this time that we were called back to the capital for interrogation regarding an event that took place in Yuktobania. An engineering college that housed only civilians had been attacked by forces that were operating on our area and the military was blaming us as the culprits. We each maintained that we did nothing wrong. In fact, I could almost remember hearing the forces that attacked the college speaking over the radio. Someone called the 8492nd Squadron. But there was no 8492nd Squadron in the Osean Air Force, so we were blamed. I can still hear Alvin, who we called Chopper at that time, slamming his fist into the wooden banister in disgust and shouting "What the hell's going on here!" I too was wondering what exactly was going on.
The four of us didn't have time to rest though. On the same we were called to Oured, Yuktobanian Special Forces teams attacked both the civilian airport across the bay from Oured and the small town of Bana just to the north. We were called into action again and we managed to halt the hatred filled attacks before they caused more senseless destruction. After our actions, the High Command left it up to the Sand Island Base Commander Orson Perrault to decide our fates. From what I heard, it was his subordinate Captain Allen Hamilton that convinced him to give us another chance. I had tried to thank Hamilton for what he'd done for us, but he shrugged it off and said it was nothing.
If I had known what was really happening at that time I would've taken the thank you back. It turns out that Hamilton really did want us back up in the fight for his own reasons. After we found out about what was happening, it was too late.
A few weeks after the separate attacks, we were struck with another blow. During a rescue operation of captured POWs in a snowstorm in Yuktobania, Nagase's plane was shot down and she managed to bail out. Because of the storm we had to leave her there overnight and return to base. As soon as I got into the complex at Sand Island, I banged the nearest wall with my fist as hard as I could and cursed myself for letting this happen to my wingmate and friend. Chopper told me that he was just as angry that Nagase was still out there, but that I had to calm down. It wouldn't do her any good to see me beating myself up. Colonel Perrault agreed to launch a rescue operation for Nagase the next day as soon as the storm cleared.
I couldn't get a wink of sleep that night. I kept thinking about the shy woman who was almost my exact double. Fearing about what she must be going through at this time. Was she hurt? Did the enemy find her and capture her? What was she thinking about now? I wandered aimlessly after I couldn't sleep, traveling the base's premises in almost a sleep walk. It was then that I came to the crew lounge and found a book sitting on the sofa. I recognized it as the one Nagase had always been writing in when we weren't up in the air. I could see her form sitting on the sofa, scribbling something onto the pages, her face almost serene with a slight smile. I opened the pink cover and peeked inside. I recognized the story too. A Blue Dove for the Princess, the story of the Demon of Razgriz. She had been rewriting the story herself because the older pages were tearing away from the bindings. That was what she'd been doing all this time. It made my heart ache to think about how she was trying to hold onto something she had cherished from her childhood. I vowed to myself then that she would be able to read it again.
It seemed fitting to me that the book Nagase was writing in contained the story of the Razgriz Demon. After out successes in the early portion of the war, we later learned that the Yuktobanian pilots and soldiers began to refer to us as the Demons of Razgriz. I was confused at first, but then I began to realize that it did fit us fairly well. That didn't mean I was happy about it though. The saying goes that when history brings about a great change, Razgriz reveals itself. First as a dark demon. As a demon it uses its power to rain death upon the land. And then it dies. However, after a period of slumber Razgriz returns, this time as a great hero. The four of us seemed to have adopted the Razgriz title as our own. Chopper even began to call himself Razgriz Three instead of the trademark Wardog Three. I could see why Nagase had cherished this story so much. It was a memorable tale and one that I felt should be carried on for generations. I just hoped the line about Razgriz dying would not come true for any of my friends.
The day after she was shot down, Chopper, Hans, and I, accompanied by the Sea Gobblin Helicopter Squadron from the aircraft carrier Kestrel set out to rescue her. It was a draining battle in the sky above the terrain, but once we had located her signal, I was elated. We'd found her! She was okay! We kept the enemy forces busy while the Sea Goblin Team rescued her and brought her back to Sand Island. We celebrated by taking turns singing to the versus of Chopper and my favorite song, Face of the Coin.
When we returned to Sand Island afterwards I went to see Nagase. She had been in the infirmary for most of the evening so a physician could examine her in case she was hurt. When she saw me, I was shocked when she sprinted towards me and hugged me fiercely. She said that I had kept my promise to keep my wingmates safe and had come to rescue her. I laughed and reminded her that it was technically the Sea Goblin guys who rescued her, but she said she liked it better if I rescued her. It was then that Chopper walked into the room and saw us holding each other. He asked if there was anything going on between us that required privacy and we separated instantly, our cheeks blushing bright red. The rest of the night was spent with the crews at Sand Island in the lounge, celebrating the successful rescue of Nagase. Throughout the evening I stayed away from the commotion and hung out off to the side. Nagase managed to get clear of the commotion and joined me. She thanked me again for rescuing her and I told her it was nothing. I made sure I returned her book to her and told her what I'd seen. At first she was embarrassed that someone had found out that she was rewriting a children's book in her spare time, but I told her that she should finish it if it meant retaining a childhood memory that was important to her. I promised that I'd keep it a secret until she was ready to tell someone and she thanked me with another warm hug.
At that time I thought that nothing could possibly go wrong for those of us in the Sand Island Squadron. The four of us had become best friends and had shared the adventures of a lifetime together. It was if the war had just disappeared to us that night. Hans was too young to drink and although we tried to get him to try some booze, he maintained that he wouldn't until he was 21. Chopper made fun of him for that for days afterward. I can still see those two laughing it up with the rest of us on that night. I wish it would have stayed that way, but within two weeks, it all came apart.
It came apart when we lost Chopper. It was just an easy fly-by above a stadium in November City to support the crowds there. Little did we know that a Yuktobanian strike force was incoming. Reinforcements were too far away to help so it was just the four of us against the entire enemy strike force. We managed to keep them away from the stadium long enough for the crowds to escape, but it came at a great cost to us. Chopper's plane had been damaged heavily by the assault, but he kept it airborne as long as he could until the crowds had evacuated the stadium. The enemy planes pounced on his smoking plane like rabid dogs, causing more damage to his plane. Nagase and I screamed at him to bail out, but he said he couldn't because there were still people below us that needed to be protected. What happened next I can still see in my dreams. The missile coming out of nowhere, hitting his plane between the engines right in front of my own, fires cascading from the plane's rear, Nagase's voice pleading with him to bail out, his voice responding that his system's were shorted out, and finally...his plane crashing into the middle of the stadium and exploding.
The smoke from the crash site continued to rise around my plane as tears began to flow from my eyes. Just like that I had lost my best friend. He was gone. I couldn't hold it back anymore. The next thing I knew I was soaring at the enemy planes, firing like mad at them in revenge for what they'd done. I don't know the exact number of them that I killed, but I couldn't control myself. I'd lost my best friend in an instant and I was determined to make the people who killed him pay.
Since that day I've met some of the pilots who were forced to attack the stadium that day. Those who survived my barrage of hatred against them for what they'd done. We shook hands and apologized to one another for our actions and we forgave each other incessantly. I was deeply repentant for what I'd done, taking so many lives just to satisfy my own thirst for vengeance. I can't go back on it though. The truth is that I had done it and I couldn't change that. No matter how much I was forgiven, no matter how many times, I couldn't hide from the actions I took on that day. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Our return to Sand Island that night was a solemn one. Neither of us bothered to speak to one another and I could see tears in the eyes of both Hans and Nagase as we exited our planes and entered the complex. Colonel Perrault stormed into the lounge we had come to and demanded to know what had happened. I was too caught up in what had happened to speak, so Hans told Perrault what had happened. Perrault yelled at us to stop crying that it wasn't worth it now because we were at war. I could also hear him say that Chopper would've been the most likely to die because he didn't take the job seriously. Hans responded vigorously that it wasn't our fault, but Perrault made the mistake of calling Chopper a weakling who deserved what he got. I heard the crash come from behind me and the next thing I knew I was struggling to pull Hans off of Perrault's form while he whacked away at the fat man's face with his fists. It took both myself and Hamilton's full strength to pull him off of the larger man. Tears were streaming down Hans' face as Nagase and I took him back to his quarters, Perrault screaming at us behind our backs with blood cascading from his broken nose.
Nagase and I watched Hans until he cried himself to sleep that night. It pained me to see such a bright young man have to be forced into this kind of war at only nineteen years old. After he'd fallen asleep, Nagase and I stayed with one another for a few hours. We talked of memories we shared of Chopper and cried often and much. I thought about the times he and I had spent in his quarters listening to his rock and roll records and making wagers on who knew most about certain bands. We had been best friends since the day we met and now he was gone. I cried my eyes out while Nagase listened to my stories. She took my trembling body in her arms and laid my head against her soft, bony shoulder while I cried into it. She gently stroked my back as she whispered my name into my ears. She was so strong in that instant when I needed it. She knew full well we had to move on, but she just let me cry on her shoulder for many minutes. It was exactly what I needed at that time. Afterwards she walked me back to my quarters and said good night to me. I thanked her and surprised her when I leant forward and kissed her on the cheek. As I began to shut the door behind me, I could see her eyes light up in surprise and even some happiness. For the first time that evening, I actually felt that there was something worth living for in this world.
I went to visit Chopper's grave just last month, on the one year anniversary of his death. He is buried in his hometown of St. Hewlett on the coastline of the ocean. When the sun sets, it the light reflects directly onto his grave stone. It seems almost fitting for such a good person to have that kind of memorial. A statue of him is being constructed in the town, a memorial to all its residence who have died in combat during any war. I met his family when the war ended, his two younger brothers and his parents who both welcomed me with open arms. They were so kind to me that it made me feel sad for them because they'd lost a family member to a pointless war. His mother asked what had happened on the day he died and I told her. When I finished, she was silent for some time. She walked over to the window and stared out at the sun looming on the horizon just beyond. She said that there wasn't anything I could've done that I didn't do. She was thankful that her son had died in the presence of his friends, though. She was also glad that Chopper had friends like us to carry on his legacy. That's what I've set out to do today. I've vowed to carry on Chopper's legacy wherever I go, tell his story to whoever will listen, and most of all I'll listen to the records he collected in his quarters every chance I'll get.
None of that crossed my mind last year, however. There was still a war to be fought. I'd somehow managed to climb back into the cockpit of my plane and fight again, despite my heavy heart over what I'd done at November City. We were only a three plane formation at this time and we set out for Cruik Fortress in Yuktobania. The battle was fierce and tiring, stretching for almost a full day. Finally, the Yuktobanian Flag was lowered from its pedestal and replaced by the stars of the Osean Flag. We had won and now were only one step away from the Yuktobanian capital, Cinigrad.
It was on our way back home that things began to transpire against us. All of a sudden, the empty blue sky was filled with planes launching missiles at us. I used all of the boost that I had at my disposal to break through the mass of planes, making sure that Nagase and Hans were with me the entire time. I heard the squadron's name over the radio and was shocked to hear 8492. I remembered a squadron that had rescued the crew of a downed transport plane the month before. Among the crew was President Harling, who was on his way to North Point to attempt to negotiate a cease fire. The squadron that had rescued them was the 8492nd. Since then the war had escalated, despite the fact that in previous years the President had maintained that he wanted to avoid a conflict and end all wars. It all fell into place. It wasn't the President who was doing this at all! The 8492nd Squadron had kidnaped the President in order for the war to escalate! We had to rush back and tell people about this. I took several hits from machine gun fire, but my plane held together thankfully. We raced across the Yuktobanian mountains and across the ocean back to Sand Island.
It was early the next morning when we landed, just after midnight in fact. The stars were out on that clear night that I emerged from my plane and quickly headed towards the Base Commander's office. Nagase stopped me and reminded me that Perrault wouldn't do anything to help us. She suggested we speak with Hamilton about the situation and the two of us set off for his office while Hans went to alert Pops and Genette. We reached Hamilton's office and he was surprised to see us. We explained to him the situation, but he wasn't concerned about it at all. He said that we were fools for not seeing it sooner. It was then that I realized why Hamilton had stuck up for us previously. He was part of the plot to escalate the war and he needed us to give Osea a further advantage! He had used us for his own purposes! Just then we heard gunfire. It was coming in the direction of Perrault's office. Then we heard his rough voice yell out for our arrest. Nagase realized this two and she lunged forward at Hamilton's smirking face. I shouted at her to stop because I saw the barrel of Hamilton's gun rising to point at us, but to my surprise Nagase was quick enough to land a hard shot on Hamilton's jaw, knocking him backwards against the wall. Before he could retaliate, she raked the butt of his gun across his face, knocking him out cold. I was stunned by this side of her, but she quickly snapped me out of it and the next thing I knew we were running across the airfield.
We met up with Hans, Pops, and Genette, plus Chopper's old dog Kirk, and hid from the soldiers who were out hunting for us. They believed we were spies who were conspiring against them, when in reality they too were being used in the same plot. We were the only ones who knew what was happening, but we could do nothing in this situation. Pops suggested that we use his training planes to escape. Before dawn, we were rising into the air in the unarmed Hawks, soldiers firing machine guns at us from the ground.
After we escaped Sand Island, the 8492nd jumped us and started attacking us. What shocked all of us even more so was the amazing maneuvers Pops managed to pull as he led us on a dangerous course through a volcanic island in order to escape detection. We passed over a scrap yard for planes and it seemed to be an eery omen for what may happen to us if we didn't escape. After we used several underground tunnels to our advantage, we escaped from the 8492nd. It was then that another plane appeared, piloted by Captain Marcus Snow, the man we had encountered during the first few days of the war. He signaled us with his lamp and told us to bail out. I was the last to punch the ejection button, the seat soaring above my plane just before it exploded from a missile. My parachute opened and I drifted downwards towards the ocean, keeping my head beneath the waves just in case there were others approaching. I stayed there for several hours before I heard the sound of approaching helicopters. It was Sea Goblin and they had a new home to take us to.
All of us managed to make it out of that alive. How, I don't know. The odds of us surviving an ordeal such as that must be astronomical, but we had all somehow survived. We were safe at this time, but where we were going we didn't know. On the helicopter ride afterwards, Nagase and I huddled together in the back, using our own warmth to keep the other from shivering. I held her in my arms as I could feel her body shivering beside mine. Despite the cold, we were both elated that the other was alive. Our flight suits were soaked from the cold water, which didn't help, but we didn't care. We were both safe. That was what mattered to us.
We arrived on the carrier Kestrel that afternoon, Captain Andersen waiting to welcome us. He was an old man of about sixty, white hair and mustache, but he had the fire inside of him of a twenty year old. He had found some disturbing information through a Belkan transmission one of his ships had picked up and he needed our help. We were more than happy to oblige.
Within a week we were trekking across the wastelands that had once been the Provence of Belka. That country had caused so many wars in the past and in the last war, they had set of nuclear weapons on their own soil in order to stave off the advance of the Osean and Yuktobanian armies. The land was still desolate when we arrived at the old castle where President Harling was being held. Captain Snow had been assigned to our formation, but despite his seniority, I was still the flight lead. The President was rescued and brought back to the Kestrel where we began planning out next moves.
Over the next few weeks we went from one side of the war to the other, trying to locate various pockets of devastation that could be used against either side. We managed to successfully eliminate some miscounted nuclear weapons that had been distributed to the opposing sides before they could be used. Because of the ferocity of our squadron's fights, some people even began to suspect that the Sand Island Squadron had survived and now had become the Ghosts of Razgriz. In response to this, we painted our planes black and changed our logo to the Razgriz Air Squadron. We all agreed that it was a fitting name for us.
The most surprising development was the return of Captain Bartlett, who we all believed was dead. He had rescued the Yuktobanian Prime Minister Seryozha Nikanor from captivity and brought him to the Kestrel. Nikanor had done nothing to start the war. He had been imprisoned after a silent coup de tait had overthrown him from power. It turns out that the Belkans had been secretly behind this war from the beginning.
Before we could move however, a Yuktobanian fleet spotted the Kestrel and started attacking it. In response, several Yuktobanian vessels defected and switched to our side, listening to the words of their Prime Minister who pleaded with his forces to stop fighting. An Osean fleet arrived soon afterwards and began attacking the Yuke ships in our formation as well. This put us in a difficult position. As we stood out on the flight deck and watched the ships approach, Nagase asked me what we would do. I told her that we had to keep the Kestrel and our new allies safe. Even if it meant fighting against Osea. Nagase told me to be careful and we launched. When it was over both enemy fleets were at the bottom of the ocean, their crews floating in the waves. There was no elation however. We still had more work to do.
I remember some of the conversations that Prime Minister Nikanor had with Pops and Captain Andersen on the Kestrel before the Prime Minister departed to meet with President Harling. They talked of peace and what they would do to stop the war. All three of them were so determined that this war would end and should end. They agreed it would be hard, but they had to press onwards. I knew that we too must push on. Hans, Marcus, and most of all Nagase, all had the same thoughts.
Before we could move though, our hand was forced. The Kestrel was sunk by a submarine attack and we barely managed to get into the air before she sank. Our destination was North Osea Grunder Industries, the control center for the SOLG. The SOLG was a military attack satellite that could wipe out half of all the cities in either country and we couldn't let that happen. We were flying to end the war once and for all.
Along the way we heard President Harling and Prime Minister Nikanor address the world, calling for peace and an end to the war. They spoke of the SOLG, but also said that forces were on their way to stop it. They pleaded with the military soldiers to lay down their weapons and shake hands with the other side. We knew it had worked when we were joined in our flight by fighters from both sides, Osean and Yuktobanian. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. I knew that we could not fail now.
The battle was fierce. Ourselves and our allies mercilessly worked to open up the tunnel inside to the controls. I was busy with a matter of my own. Hamilton had arrived in his own fighter with aggressor forces from Osea and he began to attack me. I went after him myself, using every trick I knew to dodge his attacks. I finally managed to get behind him and damage his plane. As he retreated, the tunnel opened. The others formed up behind me and we forced our way into the tunnel, Hamilton right behind us. I managed to get all the way through and destroyed the control system. As we desperately raced to escape the blast, I saluted Captain Bartlett as he soared past us, taking out Hamilton with his own plane. We managed to escape the explosion just before it consumed us and we soared into the air victorious.
News reached us when we landed in Oured that the SOLG was descending and was going to crash into the city. We knew we had to stop it. We were the only ones who could. Our planes were lined up on a highway just on the outskirts of the city. Just before we launched, Nagase called me over to her plane so we could talk. We didn't say much at first, just talked about the situation. I finally broke the ice and said that I'd make sure she didn't die. She vowed she wouldn't let me die either. She said that she'd been my wingmate since the beginning and she wasn't about to stop now. I told her to be careful and she said the same to me. It was then that our lips met in a passionate kiss and we held each other in our arms. A few minutes later we were up in the air and racing to stop the SOLG.
When I think about that day, the thing that comes to my mind is a sunrise. The SOLG exploded in the sky in brilliant colors after we'd managed to destroy it. The war was over and the enemies had been stopped. It was the beginning of a new life for me. It was the same for the others as well.
We landed at Apito Airport in Osea amid a mayhem of press and patrons who wanted to get a glimpse of us. Hans and Marcus gladly handled the press while Nagase and I slipped away. We still were quite shy and didn't want to have the press in our faces. We made our way into a hangar and before I knew it Nagase had me pinned against the wall and was kissing me senseless. I kissed her back and it stayed that way for the longest time. We finally knew that we were in love and we weren't about to let it slip away. The war had almost done that, but in reality it had been the war that brought us together.
A year later I can still remember the scenes of the war vividly. We went underground after the war's end, trying to return to normal civilian life. Sand Island Base was closed after the war in order for it to become a park and memorial for those who died in the war. As I said before, Pops suffered a stroke earlier this year, but he's still in good spirits. President Harling and Prime Minister Nikanor continue to lead their respective countries into a new frontier. One that puts peace above all else. Captain Andersen retired from the Navy and now resides in a small house on Akerson Hill in Osea. Marcus went back to his family in Oured, his wife and young son waiting happily for him. Hans returned to his home in November City, reuniting with his mother and older brother who had served in the Army during the war. Hans transferred from a pilot to a medical officer after the war and I don't think he's regretted it. He prefers to save lives rather than take them. As for me, I went back to my hometown just west of Oured, I won't mention the name of the town. Chopper's family gave me Kirk to keep myself, which I still do to this day. It's the same for me as it always has been. With one major exception of course.
I look upon her beautiful face in the glow of the fireplace, tranquil and peaceful in her sleep, one of my old t-shirts from a Rolling Thunder concert covering her from her shoulders to her thighs. She is beautiful. She is my wife. She's not called Nagase anymore. She's taken on my last name, which I won't mention either. After the war we stayed together. She moved into my home and we spent countless hours here together. It was here about four months ago that I popped the question and she accepted readily. We were married in a private ceremony in my hometown, attended by only our closest friends like Hans' family, Marcus' family, Pops, Captain Andersen, and Genette. President Harling and Prime Minister Nikanor each sent us their regards and wished us happily onward. I still see her face, shrouded by her veil as she looks into my eyes, her eyes sparkling in the light, her dress absolutely making her slim figure look stunning. I can remember kissing her deeply after we were officially declared husband and wife and hearing the people cheer behind us. Everyone wished us goodbye as we departed for Cinigrad after the wedding. Cinigrad was a beautiful city, though we didn't get to see much of it since we spent most of our time alone in our room doing what honeymooners do. We moved back home and that's where we are now. This is our home. She is my wife. I am her husband. The war is a distant memory to us, but we both know that if it had not been for the war we would not have found one another and fallen in love. In some regards I thank Belka for bringing us together, though that's not too often. We live a life that neither of us would have ever dreamed we would have lived. We hope to start a family someday and have children, but that will come another day. Right now all we have is each other and that is all we wish for. I can only hope it stays like this forever. Beautiful. Tranquil. Serene. Peaceful. Just the two of us. Together.
AN: Hope you enjoyed it. I wrote it in about two hours, but I hope it wasn't too bad. Read and Review and thanks again!