Chapter 382: Perceptions
The camp of the Last Light Company was loud and lively, almost identical to the time so very long ago I first walked among them. The biggest difference, of course, was the size. Instead of a single company of the army, this was the army. Almost ten thousand strong, the soldiers ranged anywhere from wide-eyed recruits just out of training to experienced veterans old enough to have grandchildren older than I was. Everywhere I looked there were tents and campfires, training grounds, and circles of long-time companions. In a way, it was comforting to see so many simply living their lives with smiles, free of the burdens I carried.
No, that wasn’t quite accurate, and I reflected on that thought as we walked through the camp. There was a small group of soldiers laughing between two tents, I remembered them at the Shard. They had lost nearly a third of their squad to one of the wyverns. And over there, speaking expressively to a few young men and women, was a gray-haired archer who’d had his companion killed by the sixth-level mage of the Dead Wing Legion, he himself barely surviving. His face was still a mass of semi-healed burns and I doubted he’d ever be able to fight as well again.
These people weren’t free of burdens, not by a long shot. Yet they remained content and happy, choosing to focus on the light of this world instead of the dark. I’d always found smiling during these times disrespectful to those who were lost or suffering, but watching the Last Light Company gave me a new perspective. Maybe they were celebrating their memory in the best way they could.
Sari would want me to smile, wouldn’t she. I rubbed my horn thoughtfully and tried to force my mouth to curve up. The best I could manage was to get the corner of my lips to twitch, but the mere act of trying lifted some of the gloom hanging over me, and my tail lifted just a little from where it was dragging behind me.
"Sarra," I said, glancing at the girl beside me, "Where are we?"
Sarra was a fourth-level life mage, a young human close to twenty in age. She had shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes, with a face that was pretty, but far from beautiful. She wore a more traditional dress that resembled something closer to a mage robe than anything else.
"Somewhere east of the canyon, my lady. We’ve been moving all week, but the commander called a rest for today. The scouts have reported no demons in pursuit, so I suppose he wanted to give everyone a chance to recover from the battle."
I breathed a sigh of relief so deep my eyes grew wet with feeling. "He didn’t lie to me. He actually kept his word."
"My lady?" Sarra looked at me, confused.