The fire crackles quietly, its warm glow flickering against the backdrop of the cold night. I sit with my back against a jagged stone, a few feet away from where Lanni crouches, keeping watch. The deserter—our 'package'—is asleep, his breathing shallow but steady, his body curled in a makeshift blanket. It's a peaceful sight, considering the circumstances. The world hasn't been kind to any of us, but tonight, the winds are calm, and the stars… the stars seem almost forgiving.
Lanni's silhouette is sharp against the dark sky, the flames casting shadows that play across her features. It's strange. I've been through hell with her, and yet, there are moments when I forget how much of her is still a mystery to me. She's a soldier, like me, but there's something else about her. Something different.
I watch her for a moment longer, the soft movement of her posture as she shifts her weight, her eyes scanning the horizon, alert and ready. She's a force—always has been. But it's not just that. There's a depth in her. Something I can't quite place.
I've been doing this too long. Too many years, too many nights like this, alone in the dark with only the crackle of fire and the weight of the past hanging over me. There's no time for things like feelings or attachments. Not in my line of work. And yet, here I am. Feeling something I shouldn't.
Lanni's quiet, the way she listens when I talk, the way she moves with purpose, yet with an ease I haven't seen in others. She doesn't ask for anything from me, but somehow, she's still there, always. It's as if she's become part of the rhythm of this broken world, a constant in the chaos.
I'd never admit it to her, but I've been thinking about her more than I should. There's a part of me that trusts her, in ways I can't trust anyone else. She's… steady. And that steadiness has a way of seeping into me, even when I try to push it away.
We don't talk about it, though. We don't talk about anything really. And that's fine. It's the way I like it. The less people know about me, the better. But Lanni… she's different. Not like the others. I can't put my finger on it, but I feel it. I feel it when she looks at me with those clear eyes, or when she helps me drag another body out of the way, or when she saves my ass in a skirmish. She doesn't need me to save her. She's capable, more than capable. But it's that quiet understanding between us that gets to me.
I let out a slow breath, trying to push the thoughts away. But they keep coming back, swirling in my mind like smoke. Maybe it's the stars tonight. Or maybe it's the way the world feels so still.
I don't know if she notices it, but I do. The way she keeps a distance, even when we're so close. She has walls—high walls—and I get it. I have them too. But there's something in the way she looks at me, something unspoken, like she's waiting for me to break first. Maybe she's right to wait. Maybe she knows what I am. What I've done.
Hell, I know what I am. A soldier, a killer. A man with too much blood on his hands to ever be forgiven.
But then there's Lanni, standing there, always steady, always watching. And for some reason, I find myself wondering… wondering what it would be like if I could tell her everything. If I could just let go of all the shit I've carried with me. If I could tell her about the wars I've fought, the things I've seen, the things I've done.
But I won't. I can't. It's not who I am.
I shift, my gaze rising to the stars. The night sky stretches wide, a dark sea of forgotten gods and lost stories. For a moment, I think about everything we've been through, everything we still have to face. This world is a wreck, and it's only getting worse. But as I sit here, watching the stars blink quietly above us, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, there's something worth holding on to. Something beyond survival.
Maybe it's Lanni.
I shake my head, the thought fleeting, but heavy. She deserves better than this world. Better than the chaos we keep dragging her into. And yet, she stays.
Why does she stay?
I've never asked her. And I never will. Because I know the answer. She's just like me. She's been broken too. We're all just fragments of something that used to be whole. We're survivors. And in the end, that's all that matters. But as I sit here, under the weight of the night sky, I can't help but think… maybe it's not all that matters. Maybe, just maybe, there's more to this than survival. Maybe there's something about Lanni that I can't quite let go of. Something that draws me in, like the stars in the sky—distant, beautiful, but unreachable.
I sat there for a long time, not thinking about anything in particular, just watching the fire flicker, the stars above, and the quiet of the night. But in that silence, I realize something.
I'm not sure what happens when the war ends, or when the blood finally dries. But if I survive long enough, maybe I'll find out. Maybe Lanni will be there when I do.