To Forget and Be Forgotten

The war was finally over and she sheathed her sword.

All those years of struggle and hardship had paid off. A small smile played on her lips, one that had not been seen for years. She softly patted her horse then sat on the battlefield for a few minutes, letting the silence envelope her. Then without another word she rose and with her army made her way back to the castle.

When they reached the gate it opened for them. The streets slowly parted as they walked in — warriors who had finally returned peace to their kingdom. Voices called her name. Praises, relief, gratitude. Children looked at her with wide eyes full of admiration.

Seren paid no mind and continued to walk.

[Seren's POV]

The palace gates opened and I walked inside.

And then I saw her. High above, waiting. Liora. As beautiful as ever, unmarred by war. Calm. Radiant.

In that moment the world melted away. The noise, the crowd, the exhaustion — all of it ceased to exist. The ceremony became a blur. The king's speech, the rewards being handed out, the names being called — I heard none of it. Because at some point she leaned in and whispered "Meet me in my room tonight."

I didn't remember anything from the rest of the ceremony except that I was already moving. Up the stairs, down the hallway, faster than I should have been going. The hallway was empty — no servants, no guards. Perhaps she'd already dismissed them.

I opened the door and before I could even speak she was pulling me inside, hugging me tight enough that I couldn't move. I froze for a moment before slowly relaxing into her arms.

"I missed you." she whispered.

"I came back." I whispered back, exhaling quietly against her shoulder.

She pulled away and looked at me. There was something in her eyes I almost caught before it was gone, something I couldn't name fast enough to hold onto. She guided me to sit by the window and settled beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched, and for a moment neither of us said anything. The city was still celebrating somewhere below us. In here it was just quiet.

"You look tired," she said softly.

"I am."

"Different tired than before."

I looked at her. She was watching me the way she always did when she was choosing her words carefully — not cautious exactly, just thoughtful. Liora had never been careless with the things she said to me. I had always noticed that.

"The kind that doesn't go away after sleep," I said finally.

She didn't try to fix it. Didn't offer reassurance or comfort or any of the things other people would have reached for. She just nodded slightly, like she understood, and leaned her head against my shoulder.

That undid something in me I hadn't known was still held together.

We talked for a while after that — about nothing and about everything, little everyday things. She told me about the garden renovation she'd abandoned halfway through because she'd changed her mind about the roses. She told me about a book she'd been reading for four months because she kept falling asleep on the same page. I told her almost nothing because I didn't want to bring the war into this room, and she didn't push.

"You still think way too much, don't you?" she asked eventually, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Just a little."

She laughed. Her laugh was exactly how I remembered it.

"Liar."

I shrugged. "I had to rely on other people this time. I didn't have any other choice."

She looked at me, surprised. "That's... new."

"Yes. It is."

A beat of silence settled between us, peaceful rather than awkward. The candlelight caught her face and I looked at her — actually looked at her — the way I hadn't let myself do in years of letters and distance and trying not to think about what I was fighting to come back to.

Her hand found mine on the windowsill. She didn't say anything about it. Neither did I.

"I'm tired," I admitted.

Her expression softened. "I know."

And for the first time in years I felt something. Not relief, not pride.

Peace.

I slept well that night. No tension, no fear. Just warmth.

That was the problem.

The next morning I woke slowly. Window light filtered soft and pale through the curtains. For a moment everything felt normal. I didn't move or think.

Then I remembered.

I turned over slightly. There she was — sleeping on her side, facing away from me, just like always. A smile touched my lips.

"Liora..."

No response. I frowned and moved closer.

"Liora."

Still nothing. Something felt wrong immediately, the way wrong things do before you can name them. I reached out and touched her shoulder. Warm. But too still.

My hand tightened around her shoulder without meaning to.

"...Seren?"

Her voice was faint. Distant. Like it was coming from somewhere much further away than the space between us. Something inside my chest shifted violently.

A strange peacefulness flooded through me.

Wrong. It felt wrong. I tried to pull my hand back. I tried. My body would not obey. My fingers tightened. Too tight.

"Seren... Wait—"

That was the last thing I heard her say before silence.

I don't remember what happened after that. All I know is that when I came back to myself I was on my knees, her body cradled in my arms, blood everywhere. Too much. On my hands. On her. On the floor.

"No..." I whispered. "I... I just came back..."

She didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't respond. My chest felt hollow. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The war was over. Everything was supposed to be—

My thoughts died before I could finish them. Because somewhere deep down, in a place I didn't want to look, I already knew.

This was not the end.

It was the beginning.