With every step, Peloquin pulls his boots out of the muddish-sand with a “shmuck”. The sun filters through clouds, bouncing off the rows and rows of shiny white tombstones surrounding him that must go on forever. The sight is otherworldly. As he walks, Peloquin reads the names etched into the stones out loud. It would take ages to read every one but he only has to read the R’s. Ron, Ronal, Rone

Roo.
His chest collapses, the air sucked away. Peloquin falls to his knees. He doesn't allow the tears to rush, only drip. If they all come at once, he’s sure he would never be able to pull himself back up again. He would die laying there, drowned in his tears, drowned in his anguish.

Roo’s smile plays in front of his face. Those blue eyes that betrayed their owner’s bastard birth stared at him, Roo hated them, but damn, they were breathtaking. Peloquin wishes his mind would stop there. Wishes his last memory of Roo was the playful rebel suited up and ready to change the world. That would be painful enough. But the images keep rolling.



Roo had twenty minutes and they were arguing. Classic.

It was cold; clinging, bone cracking cold. The forested valley they were trapped in had been completely swampified. Not the greatest setting for morale. Roo was mad because the rebellion was using less than moral methods; no one else minded, of course. Peloquin laughs through his sobs, of course, who else would rebel from the rebellion? Roo was livid, as per usual.

Roo and Peloquin stood in the clinging, bone cracking cold and screamed at each other. Peloquin can’t remember how it started- some new report about villagers getting caught in a gas attack- but he knows how it ended by heart. Roo’s words have been on replay in his head for the last month and a half. They were the same words Roo had been saying for months before that argument. Would be saying now.

“We’re supposed to be the good guys!”

Peloquin shot back, “There are no good guys, just greedy people and hateful people” He should have known Roo got that. He should have known the last thing Roo needed was more reminders how cruel the world was. “and sometimes people figh-”

“-Than what are we fighting for, more violence? More poverty? More innocent bloo-”

‘Stop and listen’ Peloquin begs his former self and Roo, ‘this doesn't lead anywhere good.’

“The better side!” Peloquin shouted. How many times they had had this argument? Why didn't he stop this once and try to talk through it. But he had been so sick of Roo and morals and war.

“How much better can we be?” Roo shot back, a note of defeat in his voice, but Peloquin kept attacking,

“ you know what, whatever- go defect to the Palerth and see what they do to you.” Peloquin watches himself storm away. He hears Roo break a stick than yell,

“I didn't mean...this is all so stupid! The world deserves better”




“STOP!” Peloquin shouts at himself ”STOP! STOP!” his shouts echoe off tomb stones and back to his ears, pulling him away from the memory; back to Roo’s grave. He touches the rough stone reverently. Roo stands in front of him again, sword in hand.




Roo had thirty seconds and Peloquin had just returned from his hissyfit after hearing screams.

Their camp had been ambushed. Roo turned around and caught Peloquin's eye. Dead bodies lie on the ground around him, only one enemy stands. She attacks Roo. Peloquin remembers every second. Roo caught Peloquin's eye than turned around. He dropped his sword, closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

He put his muddy hands on his head.

Peloquin started running at that point. Weapon drawn; trying to get to Roo before the attacker did. It was useless. She was so much closer. Her sword hit Roo’s neck with a sickening thud. And his eyes opened. For just a second before he died, Roo opened his eyes. Peloquin lost it. He didn't just kill the enemy; he massacred her. Stabbed and stabbed until her chest was just mangled tissue and blood. He kicked the bodies of dead people. He wanted to get them away from Roo. They had to get away from Roo. He cradled Roo’s dead body in his arms. Tried in vain to stitch his throat together. Covered in blood and tears, he ran to the nearest village and demanded a doctor examine Roo’s wounds.

The doctor’s exact words when he saw Roo’s body were,

“Son… You didn't bring me out here for him”

Peloquin screamed at the doctor. “YOU DIDN’T CHECK! HE COULD BE ALIVE, MAKE SURE HE’S NOT DEAD, MAKE SURE HE’S NOT DEAD, MAKE HIM NOT DEAD!” Than Peloquin threatened to kill the doctor, so the doctor left and Peloquin found the alcohol they were only supposed to drink if a limb got cut off and drank it until he threw up. Roo’s eyes opened for just a second, filled with fear and unsureness. Roo. Roo.



“Please come back,” Peloquin whispers to the gravestone “come back and tell me why” he waits for a second. Than he slams his fists on the ground “COME BACK! COME BACK NOW! I’m sorry… I’m sorry...please come back” He starts sobbing hard, hanging on to the gravestone. And the memory replays,

“We’re supposed to be the good guys!”

And the memory replays,

“We’re supposed to be the good guys!”

And the memory replays...



“Peloquin… Peloquin, get up!’’ Elvior is standing above him. He gets up. The sun had chased away the clouds and now it shines down, baking his skin and vanquishing the clinging, bone cracking cold.

“Sorry” he whispers wiping his eyes, praying to god she will forget this.

“The Yi-gons are helping the Palerth, Mien told me to tell you…” She explains. She looks down at Roo’s grave, “I miss him too,”

“We have a war to fight,”

“It wasn't your fault,”

“You don't understand-“ he chokes for a second, then lets anger water his words, “He let himself be killed. He dropped his sword and put his hands on his head. We got into an argument and he let himself be killed.”

“Roo dying had nothing to do with you!” Elvior consoled,

“You don't understand-” Peloquin started,

“Yes I do! Listen. Roo was struggling with morality and the rebellion long before you met him. He was always to good for the world. He didn't let himself be killed because of you; he let himself be killed because he was struggling with things much bigger than you and in that moment he saw a stupid, destructive way out and took it. Because in that moment it made sense.”

“I couldn't get to him in time.”

“Maybe you did. Maybe you did every other time he saw a way out and didn't take it because you stopped him or saved him or brought him back to reality”

“Maybe,” Peloquin touches the tombstone. Than looks up at the sun, knowing it shines just as brightly on another army, “We have a war to fight,”

“We have a war to fight,”