'Basch! Basch, my son!'

I had bent my head over the window, half-awake.

'Basch! Oh… You're finally here! Thank the gods you're safe!'

My mother had hugged him very tight before he could even catch a breath.

Then I'd heard him talk and talk endlessly…

'Noah?'

I blinked and drank the rest of the glass of water I keep next to me every night.

'Always the dreamer! You'll never change, will you?'

Basch sighed and took his towel before walking to the bathroom.

It had been a whole year since my twin came back from the camp. Everything went back to normal, except Basch had developed a particular attraction for all kinds of weapons and I often left him at the Waldgott weaponry before I paid a visit to the Drimers.

'Noah, where are you?'

Her voice was more anxious than usual.

'Still in the room, Mom'.

She passed her head through the door frame and smiled:

'You should come and eat something instead of waiting here. You're still not totally recovered from last week. I've already prepared breakfast.'

I took a deep breath and joined her in the dining room.

'I really hope you'll feel better soon, my son', she said, as she poured tea in my favourite cup.

'I'm already better, Mom. I wasn't actually sick last week. It was just a cold, you know!'

'Oh, just a cold!' she repeated ironically, before falling on her chair. 'Worst diseases always begin with 'just a cold', you know! I myself felt I was about to…'

She suddenly stopped, drowning her look in her bowl.

'What did you feel, Mom?' I asked before biting in a small cake.

'No… Nothing.'

We kept on eating until I realized we did not wait for Basch.

'What about my brother? Is he supposed to eat alone?'

'Oh, him. I always forgot he was away when he was with your father, and now I always forget he's back with us now that he's finished.'

'It's been a year now', I reminded her.

'I know. Well let's keep these fruits aside for our upcoming conversation.

I took a sip of juice and looked at her with a growing surprise.

'What do you mean? Are you angry at him?'

'Oh, no, how could I? He's the son I always wanted to have, just like you. It's just… You know how dangerous it is to wield arms.'

I had begun to understand.

'Come on, it's not dangerous at all: Basch has spent weeks learning how to hold them properly, and you know as well as I do the owners of the weaponry never allow a child to touch any of their products without asking and without supervising them.'

'You're right, son. Forgive me for worrying too much.'

For a moment she felt like a little girl who got up to mischief.

'It's alright, really', I said while caressing her hand. 'Did you have any news about Father?'

As she had begun to look at ease, she suddenly stopped moving and rolled her eyes.

'Mom? What's happening?'

She lowered her look and it was as if she was even sadder than before.

'Tell me! Did you get a letter from that officer? You know you can tell me anything.'

'No I didn't.'

'So, is he still there…?'

She sighed, almost sobbing, as she replied:

'Yes he is.'

My father, according to Basch, was to join his division to fight a Northern tribe, which had decided to invade Landis from the northeast. We didn't know which race they belonged to, but from what I'd heard and read in the city, they were by far the hardest enemies our army could face. The training near the village was meant to prepare the soldiers for what was to come, so they could face the threat in a good physical and mental shape, and act accordingly in case the Dark Masks start their attack – that's the name people give them. However, my father was not exactly among the best soldiers, and Basch had told us he had been initially put aside from the upfront troops. But he had insisted so bad that his superiors eventually allowed him to join the battlefield, no matter how unskilled he was, insofar as they needed as many men as they could gather to control the tribe's violent fighters. He didn't listen to his officer's advice, and even less to Basch.

'I've been terribly disappointed by Father's level at fighting', Basch had told us. 'He certainly can make an effort and become better, but I don't know… something in his mind made him not even try to! He just spends his day roaming and turning around the camp. If it was me, I'd already be an officer after all this time!'

I took my mother's hand anew.

'It's his choice, after all. Something may change and he comes back to us. But for now… You know better than me how stubborn he is.'

'I also know better than you that your brother is taking exactly the same path as him!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Basch!'

My brother was rubbing the towel against his head as he came into the room with an innocent expression.

'Is there something about me?'

'Good luck', I said, as I left them alone.

After I was done, I put my farm clothes and went out to see how the flock is doing. At the house entrance, I met Basch, who looked also ready to go.

'Where are you going, Basch?' I asked.

'Well I'm…'

'BASCH!'

Mom's voice was louder than ever.

'Well brother, I'll tell you later. See you all!'

'Weapon-dreaming, isn't it?'

Basch muttered something angry and ran away.

'Basch!'

I would have expected my mother to run after him, with all her energy, as she did so many times before, but she suddenly stopped and fell on the ground, exhausted.

'Mom!' I shouted, rushing to help her.

'It's alright. BASCH!' she yelled in turn. 'I'll ask Bolesław once I go to the city. And you can be sure your punishment will be immense if he tells me you've done anything different from what we discussed!'

Basch raised his arm in some sort of strange respect, and disappeared. I sighed and knelt down in front of the cockatrices.

'How are you today, little ones?'

They replied with clucks, purrs, and woams.

I went back inside, and sat in front of my mother, on my favourite sofa against the bookcase.

'Are you sure you're okay, Mom?'

'Yes Noah', she replied without hesitating.

She bent over me to take something from the bookcase, then stepped back to sit where she was.

'I forgot 682 will be a year without Kiltia Reports', she said in a sigh.

'Kiltia Report…?'

'Yes. No chance we're getting it this year, or any one after. Just like the nine last years!'

She briefly got up to bring herself some more cakes. She was eating a bit too much for my taste, and compared to what she used to.

'The Kiltia Reports', she continued, 'are a special magazine that used to be delivered for free all across Ivalice. It was mainly some statistics about the nations involved in wars, the size of the troops each one sent, the number of dead and displaced, but all this was from a social and religious point of view.'

I knew my mother was a moderate Kiltianist who was inspired by all teachings from Bur-Omisace for her personal development and way of acting in daily life.

'It also featured quotes from His Grace, the Gran Kiltias, and some small tales which makes us think about the simple value of life. To think the last issue was and will forever be that of 673! Time has passed very fast and everytime I read the old Reports, I have the small hope of seeing a new one someday.'

'Why can't there be a new one?' I asked. 'That's random. What happened in… 673?'

She lowered her look. For a moment I thought she was about to cry.

'If that's too hard for you to tell, it's okay'.

'No, no', she said. '673 was the year our dear Empress Ephedrine died. Even if no one called her Empress…'

Why was she talking about an Empress while we're living in a Republic? It took me several seconds to realize.

'Do you mean the Empress of the Archadian Empire?'

'Precisely. Sorry – I sometimes forgot I'm not Archadian anymore. Lady Ephedrine was the best woman that ever set foot on Ivalice. She was marvellous, fantastic!'

She joined her hand and raised her head towards the ceiling, her eyes gleaming as when she was talking about how much she loved my father.

'She died so young, after giving birth to her second child. When I was in Archades, she was my role model. Her faith, her beauty…! Such straight hair, such sky-blue eyes! Well, all the young girls I know wanted to be like Lady Ephedrine. She was as important to Archadia as she was to Bur-Omisace. That's why some Kiltianists want to canonise her and make her a saint. I agree with them. She was also a singer…!'

Now that gives an explanation to both the singing while washing dishes, and the hair smoothing every time it got wavy, to the days.

'Is it to also have two children that you decided to have twin sons?'

She burst into laughs and hugged me.

'Don't be stupid. I gave birth to whatever was in my belly and I wouldn't change you for the world. But where is Basch? I'm beginning to get scared! You just reminded me that your brother is still outside… He told me he was going to watch – just watch – some weapons at Bolesław's Armoury. But knowing him, he may already be in danger!'

'Naaah Mom, please, gizza break, aye? Basch will be alright as! You'll see him back soon.'

She – thankfully – went back to sit down after she looked on the verge of hurrying after him.

'Tell me Mom; do you sometimes wish you had contact with Archadia?'

She looked at me with great surprise.

'No, my son. I do not regret at all the life I've chosen. I'm happy at the way Landis people welcomed me and your father, even if the latter has soon left home to join the Army. I'm absolutely certain he will come back and we'll be together anew. I know it because, even if he may not look like it, he loves the farm. It was his idea. He wanted us to live of flock and crops and stay together until death tear us apart. He changed his mind overnight but I believe that's just temporary. I'm proud to bear alone the farm's responsibility while he's absent. I'm proud to be a Landisite. Even if it's a good thing to know about other countries, I will never return to Archadia. This is our land, and that is their land.'

At this moment, we heard big shouts outside. I rushed to the door and my mother followed me.

Outside, in the dirt track leading to our house, a group of people was walking. Well, Basch – Mom immediately let out a sigh of relief at seeing him – was running before them and after them at the same time. At the front, Cirla Drimer was leading the group, wearing an elegant black suit and grey shoes. Margit, behind him, was also wearing black, her hands tied and her head lowered. Finally, Nareszcie Olszewska was holding Margit's arm. Her dress was all white and she was wearing her father's straw hat.

'Hey! Answer me! It's been kilometers you all walk silently like zombies and won't grant me a single word!'

Basch was right. The group was all silent, and, most strikingly, their faces were all stern. Well, my friends from Waldgott always had a serious look since elementary school, but Naria's eyes were extremely severe as well.

I waved at them but none responded. They even didn't raise their heads!

'Heeeeey!' Basch repeated. 'What's going on?'

I just noticed each of them was holding a flowers bouquet in one hand. From afar, it seemed to be gerberas, lisianthus and Waldgott lilies. All white and delicate. Why did they bother to bring us flowers? And why none of them was talking? Were they angry at Basch?

'Hello friends!' I greeted as the distance between us was getting small. 'How are you, and what is this ceremony?'

'Noah is right', Mom added. 'Welcome here. Could you explain to us what is going on?'

And then, we heard all of a sudden a clear voice rising from the countryside's silence. It was Cirla. I never knew he was a singer – his voice was admirably smooth and hardout beautiful. The two girls soon joined him in what he was singing. It composed an interesting and moving young choir. Their voices, altogether, were surrounded by an aura of sincerity and innocence. I paid full attention to the lyrics of their little song, and observed the attitude my mother, all ears as well, and her face shining with joy, until she fell down all at once.

We were to celebrate Love with red roses

But we're coming with Peace Lilies instead

The door to Eternity forever opens

Because the soldier Ronsenburg is dead!

'Mom!'

The two last words were pronounced after a little pause, and sounded hollow in my head. They were pure nonsense. After they finished singing, all three immediately recovered the faces of the teenagers they all were, and rushed to help my mother.

'Mrs Ronsenburg!'

'We're sorry! But please read this official death certificate, we found it at Cirla's work placem…'

'Hush Margit! Can't you see that's the wrong moment?'

Cirla's tone had begun to be authoritarian. It didn't matter. I didn't know exactly what mattered anymore, if not my mother. Basch was screaming, just like her.

'Noah! How can you stay still! Give me this paper!'

He grabbed it from Margit, whose brother made her cry, and let it down.

'Take it, brother', he said as he handed it to me. 'Is it really saying that Father is dead?!'

I took it. Of course it said so, with the official seal of the Army. I nodded. Mom was reaching out for the sky.

'Why is this happening…! How can this arrive! How long I've been waiting for you, my darling… Can this be that you've let your sons orphans!'

'I told him! I told him not to fight the Dark Masks! He wasn't ready yet! He had to attend to more trainings! What a fool!'

'How can you say so of your father?' Naria asked Basch.

'Well, your father is also a fool.'

Mom and Margit couldn't stop crying.

'Please, Mom, get up! You can't stay on the ground like that!' Basch said.

But instead, her head fell down with the rest of the body, and she stayed motionless, as if with a heart attack.

'Mom!'

This time, I joined the others in lifting her up and letting her lie in the living room. Thankfully, she opened her eyes.

'I… I can't breathe!' she gasped.

'What can we do?' Margit asked.

'I'll go bring the village's doctor! You, stay here with her!' Cirla said.

'I'm coming with you!' Basch decided.

Both rushed out, running to bring help, as my mother was suffocating.

'No… No… Don't…' she uttered.

'Please don't speak!' Naria said, all panicked. 'Please try to breathe! Like this! Ooooh… Huuuu…' she ridiculously explained with her hands rising and falling.

But my mother was still breathing. With much difficulty, but she would definitely not join my father.

'I'm so sorry!' Margit burst into tears.

My mother took her hand and tried to smile. Both of their faces were all soaked with tears. For the first time after the notice of my father's death, I opened my mouth.

'Mom…'

She slowly turned her head towards me and sniffed.

'He never cared… Did he?'

As she was crying again, I put my hand on my cheeks. They were all soaked too.