Mathers wasn’t a proper Blythe, in any sense, just another hard worker you can find anywhere, aspiring to be the next Richter Blythe. But he had a roadmap ahead of him, which is more than he could say for a lot of people he knew.

  He’s got blonde hair and blue eyes, as common as Blythes can be.

  But his sweetheart, Fiore, always found something precious in them. She would dive into his eyes, swim upon a night sky’s cosmos that he could never see―while Mathers only saw the world looking back.

  “Hey, when the winter’s passed…” Mathers said, his head resting on her lap, her arm wrapped under and warmed his chin. “We should move to Richter, get our baby girl something else to do than… watch over fields.”

  “Hehe… guess the ladies of our village no longer suit your appetite.”

  “It never did! Most of them are more than twice my age, you know!”

  “My husband just wants to look at the cuter city girls out there…”

  “And I’m pretty sure you can count the age of the village grannies by wrinkles in the same way you’d count the age of a tree by its rings!”

  “Pfft― Ahahaha!!”

  She’d fill the house with a chorus of her melodic laugh, she would even if he told a long, terrible joke. And he would laugh too, albeit quieter, as he felt inclined to join. Fiore completed him, pushed him to get better, when things were far harder… chose him even when others competed for her―seeing something in him that nobody else in his life did.

  “Hm~ Hm… I’ve never been to a city,” Her arms dropped low, holding onto his shoulders. “Will I be alright? I’ll surely have to do work, yes?”

  “Hey, it’ll be fine.”

  He turned and climbed on top of her, holding her in his arms.

  “I’ve got connections, I know people. They can give me a job at Memorial Palace so you won’t have to work a day of your life.”

  “Mm… really?”

  “Yeah, just trust me. We’ll still return to the village every summer, but… this time it’s my turn to protect you.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  This was one of the moments he expected her to send a jab back, something about: her being the one always protecting him, and that it’s only right that he finally does so. But she just smiled, a pure kind of relief in her look.

  “Mhm, I trust you.”

  Her sincerity, her heart . . . as long as they remained, he’ll surmount any obstacle. He doesn’t have to be a hero ― he only has to be her hero.

  And then… she died.

  There was a vast sunset climbing down the water’s edge, the infectious glow of the final dawn laying all tensions bare on his sword-arm. Enough to feel the clinging arm holding to his spare-hand.

  “Come on, let go of that sword.”

  Fiore leans, placing her fingers on those shaky, uneasy hands. Mathers felt his breath get caught, and his chest grew tight―the drumming of his heart was all that he knew right then.

  “It’s okay… the Arvenians won’t find you here. This is Polis, see? Not as pretty as the hill-side view we have at Reigns, sure… but they’re not at war with people here.”

  “...”

  Somehow, he would have wished he was fighting a dragon about now; commanding the men he used to have and waiting for the next dawn―waiting for the next dragonslayer to be born.

  It would have taken less courage to let go of this sword… but he does, it took a while, but he does.

  Far far west, beyond the mountain-walls named Aelin and neighboring Reigns is the democratic country of Polis. Lord-General Edric saw him unfit to continue on as commander of his own troop―too marred by war’s horrors―he says. So he was relegated to a simpler, yet high-paying job.

  A non-war occupation. He would serve as Guardian under a Reigns Embassy in Polis, acting as either security or the manpower the Embassy might need.

  Slowly, he was feeling better…

  “Hehe… God I’m pathetic, I know I should give you time.. But I miss the sound of your voice.”

  But of course! He felt it wasn’t fast enough.

  Mathers hadn’t spoken much since he returned to the battlefield, stupid as it sounds, there’s times where he’s more afraid in the world he knew the most of his life―than the battlefields that proceeded after.

  “Hey, Matt. I’ll always wait for you, no matter what.”

  He felt happy hearing this and bla bla bla, she’s this very dazzling, very loyal wife that he honestly would have never found anywhere. Honestly she’s made for him, but…

  You a?l?r?e?a?d?y? knew, didn't you?

  I’ve learned all I needed to learn from him, and so did you, so why don’t we just change the chapter to something more important―――――――――――――――――

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