Disclaimer: As much as I dream about it, obsess about it, and crave it, I don't own Neopets.
Jeran leaned back in his chair. He sighed and closed his eyes. Life was going well. Five years had passed without a single hint of war. The peaceful air of Meridell had enclosed him in a sheet of relaxation. Not laziness, he reminded himself, but it was nice to have a break from battle. That isn't to say that Hiasurn didn't cross his mind occasionally, but he was still quite contented with the flow of things.
For one thing, King Skarl had doubled his army. New scouts were employed. The infantry seemed to be full of eager young men longing to prove themselves.
One of the best privilages of this time was that he could spend more time with his little sister, Lisha. Even between the wars with Kass and his heir Hiasurn, there was little time for social intercourse. Never since they were children had they enjoyed so much freedom.
The only thing out of place was Danner. He had become so distant in the past years. When they occasionally brushed by each other in the castle, or perhaps, on the training field, Danner would just stalk past him without a word. His cheeks had become hollow and his fur lean. Jeran could have sworn he had seen him brush away a tear once or twice when he chanced to glance at the forest.
The Lupe glanced out of the window beside his desk. The woods were quiet and ominous, as always. His mind lingered to the graveyard. He hadn't been around to visit Rose's grave. He swallowed a lump in his throat. It wasn't that he didn't miss her...
Every time he came near the woods, he would feel like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. The painful memory of what happened that night still dwelled fresh in his mind. He knew it was his fault, no matter what he (or anyone else) told himself. He rummaged in his desk drawer for that familiar piece of parchment. He could feel it, cold and dry. Its words were stuck in his mind.
"I was wondering if we could get to know each other...", "Hiesurn is going to kill you...", "I love you...".
He shook the last words out of thought. She had loved him with an utmost passion. He had just returned her emotions as being passable and unimportant. Yet, she had died for him. Her death was a scar on his knighthood. He could have saved her...
She loved him, but he couldn't say he loved her...
He left his room. His thoughts were too closed up; he needed someplace where he could breathe. The cool night air seemed to have renewed him as he stepped outside. Closing the door behind him, he plodded towards the graveyard.