Comforting misery, I have come home at last. How the dreary skies try to brighten my heart. I have so missed the solemnity of the ever-falling rain splashing about me. There is nothing that soothes more after a long trip than beautiful, mundane familiarity. Indeed I have returned home.

But what is home? True, I lived here once. More than that, I loved here once. Those times are nothing now but fading memories. And what worth are memories but as past events remembered by a few, or by one, and then rapidly forgotten? As I have been forgotten.

Ah, my love! It pains me so that you do not know my face, my touch, my love for you! Not as you once did. I tried to prevent you from leaving home, our home, years ago, but there was no stopping you. Your heart was too good, and your call to duty was too powerful. Even now, knowing the good you have done since then, I do not know if I could have let you go. Even knowing that we might have been destroyed with the rest of this once-majestic city.

Oh, and such a city! Goods being traded, beautiful dances being performed, people prospering, and a strong sense of security. But no longer do children dance and play in the streets. They will be long in coming back to this forsaken place. The bells of Burmecia peal out no longer. And what might they ring out if they were able? What but a dirge of death or sorrow?

Death, fire, destruction. Instead of the cleansing, healing rain, clouds of smoke were filled with deadly drops of flame. Or so the city looks. I was not here to defend you, my dear city. You were surprised by a power beyond your great strength and you fell. Alas, this is the way of war.

War. Such a vile thing. It brings nothing but pain and loss to all those involved in it. There are only different levels of losing… No one can win altogether. First many people will kill and be killed. Why must there be a need for those skilled in killing, as am I?

Ha, ha. Need I ask myself? It is so that somehow, beyond logical hope, lives may be saved, homes preserved, and children may be allowed to play.

The presence of children brings such a sense of hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. New life, youth, energy, simple happiness, how I miss them here. My childhood days were over far too soon. Why must such cruelty exist in the world that would destroy innocent children playing in peace?

Peace has eluded me for so long. Now that I have found my love again, though he does not know me, I do not know how to greet peace. It is a word whose syllables have escaped my ear for so long that I can barely remember their sound. The idea, the feeling itself may be beyond my straining fingers forever. I have fought and mourned for so long, so very long.

Perhaps it is selfish to mourn when all that I desired has been restored to me. I did not seek a restoration in this form though. And what is this I feel some days? After all my pain, surely it cannot be joy? I know not. All I can do is continue to live each day to the fullest, ever-seeking a place to be at rest. Who can say? Perhaps this always was home. Or perhaps home has been with me always.

But I wait too long on this forsaken threshold. One does not return home to stand in the Town Square. And look, I can see the one of whom I have so often dreamed, and he comes this way. I will struggle to face my trials daily, but at least he is finally by my side once more. This was meant to be. We will hold each other up, and perhaps, one day, all will be restored as it once was.

"Freya, love, is something the matter? You look so deep in thought."

"Nothing troubles my now, my dearest Fratley. All is well at last and I have come home."