A Fragile Peace

Roy

Lily was gone.

I stood there for a moment, watching as she disappeared into the ranks of her people, her figure disappearing by the Drayton soldiers.

Something about it felt... strange maybe.

The way she looked at me. The way she hesitated. The way she reacted to my necklace.

I had questions. But they didn't matter.

I pushed them aside.

Now wasn't the time to think about things that didn't concern me. I turned away, scanning the battlefield. There was still so much work to be done.

The area was still filled with movement. Soldiers were following orders, commanders were shouting instructions, and doctors were moving between the wounded. The scent of blood lingered in the cold air, mixing with the smoke from scattered fires.

The Devotion army was staying in formation, standing firm, watching the final phase of the trade unfold. Drayton's soldiers were doing the same, their eyes sharp, their hands still gripping their weapons.

It was tense. Not because of the trade itself, but because war was still close. Too close.

Despite that, the exchange continued.

The last group of prisoners was being escorted forward. Their hands were unbound, and their exhausted faces were finally showing a glimpse of relief.

I glanced toward Keven.

He was watching everything closely, his stance straight, composed. He wasn't relaxed, but he wasn't tense either. His eyes flicked toward me, and after a moment, he stepped closer.

Keven's voice was calm and steady. "I won't forget what you did."

I met his gaze, unreadable. "I didn't do anything special."

Keven exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "You saved her."

I shrugged. "Letting her die wasn't an option."

Keven studied me for a moment, as if measuring my words. Then, he gave a small nod. "I see."

There was something in his expression—something familiar. A silent understanding.

We weren't the same. But we saw the world in a similar way.

That was enough.

Both armies took their prisoners back, some limping, some needing to be carried, but all of them were finally free.

A few of them glanced around, as if struggling to believe it was real.

One soldier, barely able to stand, looked toward Andrew. "We made it out…" His voice was hoarse, filled with exhaustion. Then, after a moment, he added, "Thank you."

Another turned to me, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with silent gratitude. I didn't respond. I just nodded.

With that, the trade was done.

But before the armies could part ways, Keven and Yuri stood face to face once more.

Keven exhaled, glancing at the soldiers gathering their fallen. "We'll take our dead with us," he said, his voice calm but heavy. "I assume you'll do the same."

Yuri nodded. "We don't leave our own behind."

Keven crossed his arms. "This trade was meant to prevent war."

Yuri met his gaze. "And yet, it's only pushed us closer to it."

Keven's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't deny it. "I don't know how long I can hold my father back."

Yuri said. "Then prepare for the worst... and hope you never have to see it."

Keven let out a slow breath, then finally gave a small nod. "We'll see."

Without another word, they turned away.

The two armies finished collecting their wounded and dead. And with that, they began their march home.