The border between Arstotzka and the Gotoran Empire was where the conflict began between the two nations. Skirmishes broke out between companies to dictate where on the map the lines would favor. Where other countries would have a barbed wire fence, theirs was a series of defensive networks containing permanent trench lines and concrete bunkers. It would be a daunting sight for any other commander to penetrate and force a breakthrough but Alexei saw it as a sight for sore eyes.

A long trail of humanity marched, trotted, or driven to the embrace of their homeland. The officer, content in his saddle, looked over his shoulder to see the heads of tired soldiers and steeds lower their heads. Whether it was out of humility or exhaustion, it was enough of a closure to see his men return from a hard-fought battle. The enemy had been pushed further into their own countryside as the border line was further secured with additional layers of defenses to solidify the killing grounds should the fortunes of war turn sour.

There had been a major shift in the slow march towards the homeland. As tired faces moved aside to the right, the road began to divide into two moving columns moving past each other. Fresh infantry companies marched north in organized companies while more modern tanks rolled alongside the congested route. Soldiers in the ranks such as the foot sloggers and cavalry, began to exchange brief words with the newcomers to make the Gotorans pay for their arrogance. Yet, the veterans brandished cartons of cigarettes and handed them on to the inexperienced men.

Once the 1st Mounted Guards of the 5th Armored Division had the supporting trenches to their backs, Alexei felt the need to rest easy from now on. Boring time was spent on several miles of marching until they had arrived at the major rallying point for the armies of Arstotzka and the command center for the Northern Territories. The location was a city in of itself with a walled compound containing the important facilities to manage the army of support elements keeping the armored fighting vehicles repaired and horses fed. Within it, was a former hotel building which had been converted to General Kuragin's headquarters. Beyond the limits of the perimeter, the outskirts contained several fabricated military buildings and tents for the average soldier to house themselves in relative comfort until the days of war deemed them necessary to be called upon.

He trotted his horse over to the center of the rallying point with his head held high. Now was not the time to think about the losses as the local soldiery cheered and hollered for his attention. Being part of the tsar's household unit had its perks as his presence raised the morale of the troops stationed there. Soon the remains of his cavalry company entered the compound with the headquarters building three acres away on the opposite side. Some buildings opened their doors to his right flank as three dozen farriers exited the stables while the cavalrymen dismounted and reluctantly passed their steeds over.

The commanding officer was now surrounded by dirtied dark green greatcoats as he stole a glance from each face within his company. They all deserve a rest and time off from their latest moment of glory. Meanwhile, he would have to face the fire that was General Kuragin. "Comrades, you're all dismissed. I got some work to do and every one of you fine gentlemen should get cleaned up."

Soon the soldiers chuckled, acknowledging their commanding officer's sarcastic remarks. They deserved to walk off in a humorous mood as they dispersed away from his company. He turned towards the command center and walked over to the building in a long disciplined stride. Colonel Akhrosimov should be arriving at the camp at this moment while he mentally prepared the worst to come with the superior in command of this entire operation. The distance began to close as the captain could see two uniformed soldiers in olive drab green standing beside the main entrance into the headquarters building. As their faces could be studied, they remained unmoved while Alexei walked past them and entered the building.

A few key elements of the hotel remained in service but were now converted into a more militarized role. On the far side of the atrium resided the former receptionist's desk as the counter became subject to intelligence officers exchanging information with each other. To his right was a room that appeared to be a lounge, with multiple tables containing food and drink being produced by the cooks. His left was a different matter with a former pool table being used for detailed war maps, surrounded by a fat general and his two dozen aides.

The high-ranking officer looked up from the grid squares of the Gotoran countryside as he gestured for his men to move aside and let his gaze fall upon Alexei. His belt buckle appeared tight while the buttons on his uniform looked as if they were about to rip off from the seams. He grabbed a handkerchief from his left breast pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "So, you live."

Under any other circumstance, it would have been demeaning to a captain of Arstotzka. Yet, this instance was expected from a man who spitefully wanted the Mounted Guards to be filled by the nobleborn. Whatever happens here, he would not relent to the man's machinations to make that goal fulfilled. "And so I live."

"His majesty - the tsar, is visiting us and so we must receive him in due time," General Kuragin stated with a veneer of superiority. The man's gaze looked upon him with a hateful glare, "From what I've been told, the tsar's finest has suffered grievous losses trying to complete their objective. This is nonsense I say, for no jumped-up peasant is capable of commanding the finest soldiers at all. No, you threw your men's lives away for a brief hint of glory."

"That's the official story, your official story." He wanted to clench his hands into fists upon hearing a ghoulish general diminish his efforts but Alexei would not grant the northern commander any satisfaction. Rather, the young man maintained his demeanor as the fat noble broke into a smile.

"Indeed but once I inform his majesty of such great failing on your part, he would certainly want someone's head. Fortunately, it is within my power to do so. Arrest this man for treasonous behavior."

"I demand a trial by court marshal," The cavalry captain responded while maintaining a decorum of professionalism. He would not leave his Mounted Guards without a fight, "Even you cannot deny me this."

Kuragin's grubby hands slipped into his pockets. "Fine, I can officially execute you."

Lewis stepped out of his house while carrying a black trash bag. Marney came over last night and she decided it was her turn to cook, not that he was complaining but she always had a tendency to make a mess. That being said, he loved that woman's cooking, an additional blessing among many other admirable traits.

He looked over to his left just to discover his trash can sitting on the other side of his house and past the garage door. Not long after, the old man slipped his garbage inside the metal bin and quickly sealed it away with a tin cover. Once the unholy aroma had left his nose for fresh air, the mayor would have to fulfill his duties throughout Pelican Town. As of right now, Pierre and Morris were having a business spat with one another. The town elder liked the shop owner of the general store; however, he couldn't be partial in his favor if his business didn't compete with Joja's prices. It was a sad fact that he was unable to toss a bone his way.

Soon the old man turned around and was about to return inside. Yet, a teenager in a green sports jacket appeared jogging around the corner of his house. He immediately recognized him and was eager to greet the lad. "Alex, out for a stroll, are you?"

"Yep," The athletic youngster replied as slowed his pace and stopped in front of him, panting. "I'm making my laps around the town, getting my exercise in."

"Good, good," Lewis pondered about the young man's family at home, "So, how is your grandfather." Unlike him, the relative to the outgoing grandson had been confined to a wheelchair ever since age caught up with his health.

"The same as usual. He's grumpy but you and I have always known he's been like that."

It was a sad subject to speak of, one that the Mullner family would like to keep behind closed doors. So he ended that line of discussion by switching the subject matter into a positive perspective. "I hope it's to make yourself look good to the ladies at the dance." The Spring Dance was coming and he would have to make his arrangements before the day came.

"Yeah, well, I aim to impress," Alex added with his snarky remark. It was arrogant and cocky but there was certainly a charisma behind it. "Though, I do have to ask you something."

"Of course, what's the concern?" He asked to state his curiosity. Usually, the young folk generally don't ask for him unless it is important or slightly frivolous. So Lewis made sure to keep their issues in mind. "Is it related to the upcoming dance?"

Alex shook his head as the sweat from his brow flicked off onto the grass. "I saw the farmer head over to the community center with a bunch of wooden panels and a toolbox. Didn't you close that place off - you know - structural danger and all that?"

"I did but I decided to give Alexei a key to the place and see what he wants to do with it," Came his honest answer, " The choice is his if he wants to sell it over to Joja."

"Color me surprised, well, it looks like he's going to get that place fixed up. If you don't mind, I got a couple more laps to finish."

Lewis waved his hand at the young man. He wouldn't hold him off for too long. "Enjoy your jog."

The mayor walked over to the town square with his hands slipped into his pockets. Then he stopped his stride and looked north to see the large decrepit building overlooking the town from the hillside. It was an incredible sight in the old days, but he saw a blight in the town's atmosphere. If what was mentioned was true, then there was a chance to see a hint of glory for the whole of Pelican town. He questioned the motivations of the Bakersfield farmer to do this; however, it was not his place to discourage.

Doors swung open from within the community center as Alexei appeared in the doorway, tossing out rotten and old pieces of wood before picking up fresh floorboards to bring inside. It was probably to replace them, nonetheless, a glimmer of hope arose inside the soul of the old man. If this building did get rebuilt, the farmer would do his grandfather proud.

The beach continued to be the quiet place where Elliot could seek out his inspiration for his novel. His mind was so focused on writing that it wasn't until mid-day for the author to look up from the table where a series of rough drafts were placed perfectly on his table. One quick look at his watch was enough for him to stretch his legs from the dreary experience of the writer's process.

He rose from his wooden seat and turned around, hoping to look upon the beach itself once more. After all, this place was the reason he was here. The folks back home thought he was nuts at becoming an author, someone like himself wasn't up to the task or that his writings would fail to be noticed. Their words would not deter him as he insisted on seeing his life-long dream through. Once he unlocked the door to his house and stepped outside, the sands glowed and reflected off their long time in the sunlight.

A cool breeze blew against his face while he took one deep breath to savor the fresh air after being locked in his stuffy house for so long. Minutes passed until he looked upon the docks, wherein he saw two people sitting down and fishing. On the left side of the pier, he saw Willy attaching his bait and throwing it out into the great ocean. As he smoked his pipe, Elliott knew the old fella had been exposed to so much fish that their scent rubbed onto him but he was a genuinely honest man that loved the seas. Then the author looked and scanned his gaze over to the right side of the pier to find Alexei spending his lonesome at the docks.

The foreign farmer had a reputation ever since he threw explosives at the school of fish out of frustration. He was keen on learning more from the man after what Leah and Penny had revealed to the others. As the writer walked over to the docks, the romantic notion of a great warrior taking up a peaceful life contained a compelling tale. How does one so used to living a life of war ever transition so easily to the quiet life? The only person he could truly ask was Sam's father but despite Kent living in the town, he never did summon up the courage to talk to him after the government sent him on deployment.

So the only alternative to inspire his muse was an Arstotzkan trying to find his way in life.

He began to close the distance and his shoes tapped against the wooden boards. If there was any hint of announcing his arrival, it would be this sound. It had seemed to have garnered the farmer's attention when he looked over his shoulder for a brief second before returning to the vast deep blue that occupied his mind and soul. Once he arrived by Alexei's side, Elliott carefully sat down by the edge with his legs hanging out.

"So, you're fishing." The writer pointed out the obvious as the former soldier looked outward.

"Elliott, correct?"

"Yes," He added the confirmation with a nod from his head. There was no point in beating around the bushes given the Arstotzkan's history, "I take you've decided to fish in the right way, not with explosives."

A brief smile was seen before Alexei continued, "Aye, I just needed a moment for my mind and a break from trying to fix up the community center."

"Just a question, if you don't mind me asking." Now was the time to seek out answers from the stranger from a strange country, "I heard from Leah and Penny that you used to be a soldier. What's a man like you doing in our quaint little town?"

"I'll answer your question if you answer me this."

"Well, then, what do have on your mind?" He didn't expect to be taken aback but perhaps there was a reason for it.

"I overheard from Leah that you are a writer," Alexei said but a cold chill ran down Elliott's spine for he was afraid of what that entailed. Was he going to judge him for his profession? "What are you writing about?"

The author was embarrassed as his hand reached behind his head and scratched his scalp. It was partially because he was internally frustrated with the conversation and also because he was trying to make sense of what he wanted to do. "I… I honestly don't know. There are complete manuscripts of rough drafts of tales I wanted to write up; however, they have never been brought to a publisher."

"Then you've sated my curiosity. An educated man who is focused on the soul of literature can grasp the nuance of human emotion. Now you can ask your question."

"This might be a personal question but why are you really here?" In his own experience, almost everyone in Pelican town was living in this place for one reason or another. Even the local Joja manager had ambitions of his own being here. This Arstotzkan shouldn't be any different.

"The lives of some people have a stroke of luck almost similar to how the Ministry of Labor pulls a worker's name out of a lottery. It is not a case for a man like me, for I am the son of one of the most infamous counter-intelligence officers of my country," So he lived in the shadow of his father. He mentally took note of that detail of his neighbor's background as they shared the silence of the sea, "For a moment, I wanted to escape and joined the Mounted Guards to set myself apart. Yet, it only earned the ire of those who truly knew my family name. One engagement and controversy later, I become a war hero. It was nice back then… but it began to lose its luster after some time."

"Is that why you left?"

"I was elevated above the masses, which only elevated the reputation of my father's position, which also elevated the distaste of a noble who thought so little of me. Every move had to be considered lest I made a blunder and disgraced myself in front of the tsar's court. They saw me differently after I tried to keep the aspect of my nation's military heritage alive. Since then, I was an unwelcomed peasant at best."

"Somebody could write a story about that life, you know," The author hinted at that colorful past and his skill at writing a story. Yet, he wanted feelers to determine how Alexei would treat his comment, "Maybe you can enjoy that reputation?"

He shook his head at the response. "I've had attention brought on myself ever since I was awarded a medal and sired into a high social status. All I just want is to enjoy my time in obscurity. Enough blood has been spilled on that account."

"Must be hard leaving your country behind for this idyllic town." There wasn't more to say than to admit that Alexei had probably undergone some element of pressure in his homeland.

"Especially with the situation going on over there. Ferngill can say it's fighting for freedom a continent away but my country is the only obstacle between keeping the Gotorans from conquering everyone else across this ocean. Kolechia, Obristan, Antegria, Republia, Impor, and the United Federation all owe their existence to my nation's sacrifice… to my company's sacrifice. It's going to be a long time before I ever think of going back there."

Elliott noticed the fishing rod's bobber sink under the water as the line began to tighten. "Uh, I think you caught something."

"Alright, where's my gun?" The Arstotzkan reached behind his back as his focus turned towards his potential catch.

"Do you really need to use a gun this time?" He was baffled by the soldier's immediate response to the situation. Perhaps there was an alternative solution to the situation, "Reel it in, I'll catch it."

"Uh, do you want to smell afterward?"

The author dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. "What could go wrong?"

The fences needed to be fixed before the dance but Jodi had to convince her eldest son to stay home this time. Like all teenagers, Sam wanted to be out of dealing with family chores and just hang out with his friends. Vincent was too young to take care of himself and exposing him to rusty old nails was out of the question. Standing in her kitchen, the mother stood behind the counter drinking a mug of coffee as her son tore the rotten backyard fences off one by one. If Kent was here, he would help out and the two would have a bonding moment together.

This was no longer the case ever since he was deployed overseas against the Gotoran Empire. She knew what she was in for the moment he signed up for the military and the struggle remained until her husband would return. It had been a relief to know that the farmer had been there to rescue him from the fire. At the very least, Jodi could find comfort that it was his ticket home.

Her son had quickly brought the last panel out of place as he had sat down on the grass and carefully removed each nail with his hammer. Past him was a small little trail that anybody in the neighborhood could use, should they need to cut through the houses from this side of the town. Out from the opening, she caught a glimpse of Alexei appearing from the right as he carried a fishing rod over his shoulder and a bucket of fish in his other hand. He seemingly was about to stroll past the house until her son turned his head and greeted him.

The Arstotzkan stopped his stroll and the two took a moment to have a small conversation with the young man. Much to her surprise, the former soldier placed his bucket down and stashed his fishing rod on top before he walked into the backyard and sat by Sam's side, reaching over to a free hammer lying about. She smiled at the sight as they carried on talking with one another as they both teamed up and efficiently removed the nails one at a time. He didn't have to spend his own time to help but now she had a reason to admire the foreigner for his willingness.

Jodi felt that since he was going out of his way to help Sam, he at least deserved something before he returned home. She opened the window and was eager to welcome him. "Alexei, it's good to see you again! How are things going for you?"

Both turned their heads to see her calling them out as he waved his hand at him. "I was on my way home from fishing. After seeing your son all by himself, I figured I could pitch in and save him some time."

"You guys finish that," Her stomach growled and the mother thought of a perfect solution, "I'm going to cook you something up."

"Thank you but I'm not hungry."

"Don't give me that. You're helping me make my backyard look nice before Kent comes back. We owe you that." She replied with utmost appreciation for his efforts. Soon the mom turned away from the kitchen window and was about to begin cooking hotdogs and beans, enough to make Alexei full right now and the next few days.

She heard Sam's voice outside as he spoke to the Arstotzkan farmer about the situation. "You better listen to her. If she's making you food, she's making you food."

Jodi smiled at the comment. Now that was the son she raised.

Night had fallen as Alexei returned home from an uneventful day throughout Pelican Town. After entering his cabin and locking the door on his way in, the former cavalry officer took the time to sniff himself before his nostrils caught the aroma of fish scent on his body. Part of him wanted to take the time to wash himself; however, the added exhaustion of being out for most of the day had taken its toll. He set his fishing rod aside by the door before making his way over to the refrigerator across the room

Ten minutes of his time was spent trying to carefully sort out the arrangement of his homemade meals and familiar prepackaged food from Arstotzka. While the fish smelled, the last situation he wanted to be in was spoiled meat stinking up his home. He would need something to kill the smell should those events come around. One by one, his latest catches were slipped inside but his stomach seemed to churn.

The aftertaste of the wizard's potion returned to his tongue. The feelings of washing over his mouth with a slimy residue were recalled, almost stirring him to throw up. Yet, the moment never came. Maybe it was the magical properties of that damned liquid or his constitution against sickly beverages that saved him to this day. Whichever reason, he wouldn't be hungry anytime soon.

Once the last fish was carefully fitted inside, Alexei slipped in the tupperware containing extras and leftovers from his visit with Kent's family. She shouldn't have made him that meal but he wasn't going to lie to himself, it was decent Ferngill delicacy in its own right. As for her husband, he grew curious about his whereabouts after he departed from his homeland. The money downstairs could be used to reach out to Jorji and seek this information from the lowest of society or Kaevink could help him, presuming he ever makes another visit.

He closed his fridge and was about to make his way towards his bed; however, his horse began to rile itself outside. Concerned and worried for the beast, the former cavalry officer quickly rushed outside to see his steed's strange behavior. After unlocking the door and turning to his right, what he saw was genuinely surprising. A cat had been sitting on the post where he had tied the reins but the small feline casually tugged at it with its paws. Then the creature turned its head towards him and meowed.

One step closer the wild animal quickly turned away and jumped. Then it immediately ran off under the cover of darkness. Where? He would never know but now the farmer had to deal with a cat in his own home. The question was, what was he going to do about it? It was tempting to somehow have an opportunity to domesticate a cat; however, he didn't count on it.

Author's Note: What do you guys think? I originally wanted to finish this chapter last week but a bit of procrastination and an eye infection kinda got in the way of that. It's not as lengthy as it could have been but for a story like this, it doesn't need to be.