Yuri spent his twentieth birthday on the battlefield.

His celebratory wine was replaced by splashes of blood, the feast exchanged for corpses. Fighting was his party, but victory! Victory was the sweet cake at the end, and when he got it, he basked in it. This was the first battle in many years he had lead and won, without Flynn.

They had needed him elsewhere, on another battlefront. Why concentrate their obviously blessed warriors together when they could divide and conquer? Yuri didn't necessarily like it, but now that he lounged triumphantly upon the seat a Zaphian captain once did he felt a bit better about it all. An entire fortress of Zaphians put down, and he only had a handful of deaths, maybe half a score more injured. Although he loved Flynn, it was good to be out of his shadow for a while.

"We found several civilians in the lower sections," a knight reported as he entered the commander's room. "All Zaphians. Your orders?"

Yuri glanced up with a bored look, but even then the knight had fought enough with him that it was an act. "Keep a watch on them. Ensure none have any weapons or poison or means of magic." Yuri paused a moment, then dropped the act and leaned over the table a bit. "We do not harm civilians."

The knight just nodded, marching out of the room to relay the orders. Yuri frowned at the man's back and the shutting door, waiting several moments before motioning to another knight in the room with him. When she stepped forward, Yuri glanced to her.

"Make sure no one tries to pull anything." He ordered her. The woman bowed to him before she too left the room, and finally Yuri was alone.

He kicked back in the seat, resting his boots on top of the tactics table. A night here and they'd move on, keep Zaphias on the run as far as their border. After that he should have enough soldiers and commanders to station here on a permanent basis and keep the enemy in their lands until the final plan was finally executed.

If all went well, this war would be over by next year. Yuri smiled up at the ceiling, closing his eyes for a moment. It was about damn time.

He might like no longer being in Flynn's military shadow, but at the moment, he'd admit to himself he missed holding Flynn in his arms.

Flynn never felt more disturbed than he did at the moment, staring down at the still-bloody field from the outpost tower. Had the enemy just given up? Even for him this victory had been far… far too easy to obtain. And from the missive from Yuri, he had similar results.

If they had given up, why didn't Zaphias just wave the flag of surrender?

The blond walked away from the sight, heading down the tower to walk off his thoughts. Yet every step seemed to just bring more. Why would they throw themselves to the slaughter? Was official surrender that unbearable, that the Zaphians would rather die?

Some soldiers thought this was a good sign, but Flynn was troubled. It was one thing to cut down an enemy attempted to kill you with all of his power, but these men and women weren't even trying. Flynn stopped in an empty hall, leaning against the wall for the moment as the battle came back to him. Scores of enemy soldiers fell by his sword and magic. Each of them, staring up at him with absolutely nothing in their eyes; remembering healers not even healing their own men, archers aiming for well-armored soldiers rather than vulnerable units. Flynn had even purposely left himself open, but not one soldier bothered trying to capitalize on it.

That wasn't a battle, it was just slaughter.

Flynn pressed a hand over his chest, feeling it hurt. War brought death… he was raised knowing that. But Raven and Judith, they raised him knowing the difference between fighting for country and murder. This entire battle… all of those men and women… he wasn't fighting them. He just murdered them.

The entire fight played out in his mind. Countless times he could have changed his order, taken the enemy alive. But he hadn't noticed, not until now, that the Zaphians fought with no hope or pride. They fought just enough to rile the Dahngrest forces into killing them. A part of Flynn was disgusted that Alexei would allow his soldiers to just die like that.

And then he felt no better than Alexei, because it was his sword that fell them.

Flynn's hand moved from his chest to cover his eyes for the moment, his head feeling like it was going to explode at the realization. Yes, they were the enemy… and more oft than not, the enemy had to die. But was good was it when said enemy wouldn't even properly fight? Or was this some crazy plan of Alexei's, to sacrifice humans to wreak havoc on the Dahngrest forces' minds? The man did supposedly kill his own daughter…

And if it were a tactic, was it going to be used again? Would every battle from here on be nothing more than butchery?

What if they weren't even soldiers? What if Alexei was sending civilians into these hopeless battles so he could conserve his actually trained forces? These soldiers hardly defended themselves…

He couldn't do it. Flynn ran down the hall, trying to outrun the thoughts, but they were pricking at his mind like needles. When did he stop being a commander and started being a killer? In hindsight, was there a difference at all?

And behind all of this, Flynn was disgusted at the fact a part of him knew that in the end, that in a war one side must completely die, so he might as well start now.

It was moments like these, where Flynn doubted his leadership and choices, that he hated these times of separation from Yuri. Not even his mother was here to put these thoughts down, and Flynn couldn't bring himself to trouble one of his soldiers. They needed him to be strong, to be their temporary god of battle while they put their lives down for their home and kingdom. But they weren't even putting their lives down if the enemy wasn't even…

He tried not to slam the door, but the sound still echoed through the halls. Better he lock himself elsewhere with these thoughts than show weakness to those who looked to him for strength and power. Not that they needed it anymore, at this rate.

Flynn wasn't a man to rely on gods, unlike the Zaphians. But even still, to whatever god might listen, he prayed for an end to this war. The entire time he dressed down he prayed, all the way to the point he laid in bed.

I'd give my everything to end this war.

Oddly enough, he felt a wave of comfort after finishing his fervent prayers. He wasn't sure if a god listened, or he was just exhausted, but it was enough to quiet the thoughts and let him sleep.

When his unit reached Zaude, Yuri immediately went up to the temple tower. To his relief, Flynn was there, waiting for him.

Yet when Yuri jogged over, Flynn didn't turn from the horizon. Even as Yuri's arms came around Flynn's waist, his chin on the man's shoulder, Flynn didn't budge. There was a stony look to his eyes, and Yuri wasn't sure what brought it on. Very slowly he pulled away from Flynn, about to speak when Flynn suddenly moved.

Yuri didn't flinch. He didn't cry out, didn't put his arms up in defense like any sensible, combat-instinctive and trained man would have. He let Flynn get his arms around him, crush him in an embrace and did little to stop Flynn from burying his face against his neck. Yuri simply worked his arms back around Flynn and let the silence continue.

Flynn's tight hold never faltered. He kept Yuri close, and it was like he was trying to impart something to him through the contact. Yet Yuri could hardly think of what, exactly, that was. Was it that Flynn missed him? Did something happen?

"Flynn…" Yuri muttered. "I'm here."

Those words shattered the silence no matter how quiet they were, and Flynn relaxed, pulling back to look over Yuri's face. There was no lie there. It was a plain, simple truth: Yuri was here. Yuri would always be here.

If Flynn had anything to do with it, Yuri would be here forever.

"You're right." Flynn replied softly. "Sorry. I just… I'm tired. Tired of fighting. I want to go home… and I want to take your hand in mine and call you husband and just be with you…"

Yuri chuckled. Flynn was always so sweet, and such a romantic. Sometimes Yuri couldn't stand it, but then again, it was nice to have someone say such things and mean it. "Soon," Yuri said, smiling to him. "After those battles… I don't think the war'll last too much longer."

"You're right," Flynn repeated. "It won't." He paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment, but then abruptly yet sweetly kissed Yuri's lips for a moment. "No matter what happens, you're the one person I'll never hurt."

The kiss was well received, but not the words. "What do you mean, Flynn? What happened?"

The composed look crumbled from Flynn's face, and he raised a hand to gently brush aside some of Yuri's hair to tuck behind his ear. "Sometimes… these battles… I just feel like I'm slaughtering people." Flynn whispered. "I'm not fighting for our country's continued freedom or peace… I'm just shedding blood. I don't know who's friend or enemy sometimes. If I'm so willing to kill people who hardly are able to defend themselves from me, I might… I could… We're all humans. What's it mean to be Zaphian, or Dahngrest…? What's it matter? We all bleed red and…"

Understanding dawned on Yuri and he kissed Flynn quickly to stop those words. "Flynn, listen to me," he whispered, repeatedly kissing his lips between words, "It's almost over. You're keeping your country liberated from the aggressors. They started this war. They're fighting it to the bitter end. If we let our guard down… you know Alexei won't stop. He'll come for Dahngrest. He'll kill everyone—men, woman, children, elders. The war is getting to you… you're not a murderer."

Flynn let out a heavy breath when Yuri finally stopped kissing and said nothing more, just embracing his love tightly again. Was it as simple as that?

Innocent blood was going to be spilled no matter what. Where was the justice, the validation, in any of it?

But wasn't that the wish? To stop the innocent blood from flowing? In the end, he lied.

He recalled his own mission,
Which was no other than…