Chapter 20: The epilogue of battle

Arthur was shaken awake by a boy with dark hair and bright green eyes.

 Noah.

"What?" he murmured, trying to shift to a more comfortable position on his bed.

"I need a favor."

Arthur's eyes shot open, all sense of sleepiness leaving him immediately. He got up out of bed and wordlessly began putting on his uniform. Turning, he saw Noah staring at him, dumbfounded.

"What? Let's go."

Noah nodded dumbly. His gaze seemed distant, as if he wasn't fully present in the moment.

"Hey, man, are you good?" Arthur asked, concerned.

Noah turned back to look at him. For the first time since Arthur had known him, he looked utterly broken. His expression was blank, but his eye…they were wide, shimmering with uncried tears.

"I-I'm okay," he stammered. "Come on."

Arthur nodded. "Alright." There was no need to pry; he'd find out soon enough.

The two walked through camp, their boots crunching on the dry dirt. Many turned to whisper and stare at Arthur and Noah. The news of the trial was supposed to be confidential, so naturally everyone knew. They knew what the two of them had done, how they had saved the General, and in doing so, the battle itself.

Noah ignored the whispers, his head bowed. Arthur did the same. They moved hurriedly toward the battlefield. The fires had died overnight, leaving behind the stench of rotting bodies, rust and smoke.

When they reached the far left of the battlefield, Noah finally spoke.

"My f-father is somewhere here."

"Your dad was here?" Arthur asked, shocked.

Noah nodded, his lips trembling. "I don't want to talk about it. Help me move these bodies. I need to bury him."

Arthur swallowed his questions and began helping Noah search through the endless sea of corpses. It took hours, neither of them speaking as they worked.

Arthur didn't suggest taking a break; he knew how it felt to lose family. He knew how hollow words of consolation were. He hadn't wanted them when Reshi's family was taken from him, so he didn't offer them now. Instead, he worked in silence, his presence the only comfort he could give.

Eventually, they found him. Lamech. Noah's father.

Arthur's breath caught at the sight. The man's body was a testament to the ferocity of the battle. Two spears jutted from his chest, and his body was riddled with deep gashes, the blood long dried. His face was barely recognizable beneath the grime and wounds.

Noah shuddered and fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out but didn't touch his father's body.

Arthur knelt beside him. "What was his name?"

"Lamech," Noah whispered, his voice breaking.

Arthur nodded solemnly. "I never met you, Lamech, which is a shame, considering you raised Noah. So, please, accept this gift."

Arthur opened his palm, reopening a scabbed cut. He let his blood drip into Lamech's mouth.

"What are you doing?" Noah shouted, shoving Arthur away in a burst of anger.

Arthur didn't retaliate. Instead, he simply gestured. "Look."

Noah's breath hitched as his father's wounds began to heal, the grotesque injuries knitting together. Lamech's body regenerated until he looked as though he were merely sleeping. The transformation was slow but mesmerizing.

"Thank you," Noah muttered hoarsely. 

"Where are we going to bury him?"

Noah shook his head, smiling ruefully. "My dad didn't want to get buried. He wanted to be cremated so that one of us could spread his ashes in our garden back home. So I'm going to keep them with me until I can do that."

They carried Lamech's body together, sharing the weight as they moved toward a small clearing. Noah didn't want his father buried. Instead, they built a pyre. Together, they lit it, watching as the flames consumed Lamech's body until only ash remained.

"We'll do it, Noah," Arthur said firmly. "We'll spread his ashes, I promise."

Noah laughed coldly. "We're criminals, Arthur. We'll be here for a decade before we even get a chance at freedom."

Arthur hesitated. Logically, he knew he should keep silent. Telling Noah anything about the future would only risk unnecessary complications. But this world…well he couldn't pretend this was just a novel. And he couldn't act like Noah was just another character. It seemed wrong now, not to give him hope when he was grieving.

"Noah," Arthur began, his voice steady. "Two years."

"What about two years?" Noah asked, his brow furrowing.

"In two years, we'll spread his ashes."

Noah stared at him, his expression a mixture of disbelief and cautious hope. "How do you know?"

Arthur chuckled softly. "Put it on the list of things I shouldn't know but do."

Noah smiled faintly, a small glimmer of light returning to his eyes. "Two years. I can wait that long."

"It won't be easy," Arthur warned. "We'll have to fight for it. Hard. But if we survive, we'll do it."

Noah nodded, his chest feeling a little lighter. "Thank you, Arthur."

They gathered Lamech's ashes, placing them in a small pouch. Arthur left Noah alone after that, knowing his friend needed space to grieve privately.

As Arthur walked back through the camp, his thoughts drifted to another death—Skelter. The man who had saved his life. Skelter, the one who had battered him mercilessly, ignored him, and treated him like dirt. Yet, in the end, Skelter had saved him.

'Why?'

Arthur didn't know what to feel. He wasn't grieving exactly, but there was a deep ache, a hollow loss he hadn't anticipated. Something had been taken from him—something he hadn't realised existed until it was gone.

Lost in thought, Arthur didn't notice where he was going until he bumped into General Thanason. The General regarded him with an unreadable expression, his gaze cold and piercing.

"Follow," Thanason ordered before turning and walking off.

Arthur obeyed, his confusion growing. He followed the General to a waiting jeep. 

Inside sat Officer Mara, her once-wounded form now healed. She smiled at Arthur as he climbed in. Her skin had returned to its gentle glow like moonstone, and her red hair was no longer frayed with burns and cuts, returning to its usual scarlet luster. 

They drove in silence, and when they arrived at their destination, Arthur's stomach churned. Skelter's funeral. The ceremony was grand, filled with pomp and tradition. There were trumpets and traditional gun fire from old-fashioned guns that had been common on Earth. Many military figures attended the funeral, all in their ceremonial uniforms. It made him feel out of place amongst all the soldiers in sharply cut uniforms. These were people that probably knew Skelter, maybe even liked him. Who was he?

So he retreated to the back as they lowered Skelter's grave into the earth. 

A woman approached him—a woman with short brown hair and tear-streaked cheeks. She held the hands of two young girls who clung to her dress. Her dark eyes were red and swollen from crying.

Eventually, she spoke up with a cracked voice. "I don't think I've seen you before. What's your name?"

"Arthur, " he replied simply, his eyes focused on Skelter's grave and not on the conversation. 'Why did he save me? Why?'

"You knew James?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

"In a way," Arthur replied, turning to her, his voice hollow. "He saved my life."

The woman smiled faintly, her grief momentarily softened. "That sounds like him."

Arthur's chest tightened. "I'm sorry. But who are you?"

"I'm his wife," she said simply.

Arthur's heart plummeted. He stared at her, then at the two girls, his expression faltering. 'You idiot, Skelter. You were a husband. A father. Why the hell did you save me?'

Arthur felt tears rush to his eyes as guilt gripped his heart like a vice. 'I'm the reason her husband is dead.'

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered. 

She looked at him questioningly.

Arthur felt the words bubble out of him. The guilt, the confusion. And what surprised him the most, 'grief.' Not because he had cared for Skelter, but because Skelter had saved him. His wife would be left without her husband, his children without a father. 

All because of him.

"He died because of me. He saved my life. He didn't even know me, but he saved my life. Even though he had so much to lose. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's my fault" he blubbered. 

Arthur saw her arms move. He tensed for a slap or a punch...but she hugged him. Bringing him close and hugging him tight in a warm embrace. 

Arthur froze, the warmth of her arms foreign and jarring. But he didn't pull away. This warmth felt alien to him. How long had it been since he had been hugged like this? As though by a mother. Certainly not in his memories of Arthur. Even as Reshi he craved this feeling during the final weeks of his life.

 He cried, tears he hadn't realized he was holding in pouring out as she held him and whispered, "It's okay."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Arthur felt something shift within him. Grief. Guilt. Gratitude, and overwhelming pain. He let it all out, clinging to the woman who had every reason to hate him but had instead chosen to comfort.

////////////////////////////

From a distance, Officer Mara watched with a sad smile.

"Sometimes, I forget he's just a fourteen-year-old kid."

Thanason grunted. "He's a soldier now. He'll have to learn."

Mara sighed. "Maybe. But right now, he's just a boy."

Thanason snorted derisively. 

Officer Mara smiled sadly. "I see you're going to do the same thing then."

"What's that?"

"Not grieve, or cry. Instead, you're going to eliminate every single one of those bastards."

"You're damn fucking right," General Thanason growled, his fists clenching.

 He couldn't grieve like Arthur did. That had been trained out of him. Instead, he'd avenge Skelter's death. They'd pay. All of those damn rebels would pay.

////////////////////////////////////

Arthur left Amanda after crying pathetically in her arms. She waved to him as he walked away.

"Don't be a stranger Arthur, I'll be waiting for you."

Arthur nodded silently, waving away. He walked away from the funeral, wanting some time alone. He was confused. His mind was a wreck, a tangle of emotions and buried feelings. And honestly, he was just too tired to deal with it. 

It was then he realised that no one was watching him. All of them were at the funeral. He could escape right now, run, live a new life...free of all this shit and responsibility. 

Then he thought of Noah. Of Sera, and Skelter, of countless soldiers bleeding out on the battlefield. So…

He laughed at himself, and instead of taking the chance, he turned back. Walking back to Skelter's funeral. 

'They really have given me a good leash.'