It has been five hours since the raid. The reality of the previous night was horrible, it really was.
Being such a drastic event-no one would be able to recover even in the aftermath. There was a saying that the day after would be better, yet even now the sun slowly revealed to those working in the fields just how horrid the attack was.
To Mike, his time sitting in bed was stressful and almost suffocating. He laid alone in a nearby inn. He felt sick earlier in the morning, thus the others in his squadron left to report their involvement in the defense of Bishmark to the local garrison commander.
His day had started off bad, but he was quick minded enough to escape the heavy comforter that laid atop him. With the bright light of the sun beaming down through a window, the sergeant escaped the sheet swinging his legs towards the ground and stretching his arms as his head thrummed with pain. The headache he had the night before had persisted and affected his response time. Looking in a nearby mirror it was clear that his disheveled look would not go unnoticed, so, groaning and getting out of the bed, Mike slipped on his boots and cleaned himself up.
Once stepping out of the room, the familiar wooden halls made Mike recalled what happened in the last five hours. All he could remember was helping clean up another building, then being escorted back to an inn on the other side of town, in which Ariel had three rooms paid for.
He spent the night wakening and falling back asleep to nightmares he had gained not long ago. It ensured that he was drained by sunrise. His empty stomach rumbled lightly as he adjusted his plate carrier. He had forgone the helmet, and left it attached to his battle-belt, as to not antagonize any of the locals, but it didn't matter as he seemingly passed by everyone like a ghost.
Perhaps it was his exhaustion that kept everyone away. That much he could be thankful for.
The air he walked under was light and warm. At half-strength the sun illuminated the city as he walked seemingly nowhere. Though his day had started off, it seemed that life would pick up the slack once more as he finally acknowledged the sounds his body had been making. He needed a place to eat; at least he was provided a small amount of funds by the Princess, he'd have to thank her properly later.
Hearing the whispers of the people around, but not listening to them, Mike navigated his way through this new city. He managed to find a small quiet road to stroll down, with the only sounds being his M-5 Carbine rubbing against his trousers and plate carrier.
Eventually he found a small café. Entering and being greeted by a short man, Mike scanned the contents and luckily his former knowledge of different European cuisines came in handy. He had ordered something akin to a souffle, and after a short wait he found himself backed against a barren wall eating the food. The city seemingly came to life as he ate, but he paid no mind.
At least, that was until a silver-haired woman approached him.
Looking up, he saw that Leccamaradel had approached him. She wore a slim fitting white sundress with her hair in a small-messy bun.
"Hey." She said softly unsure of herself, "I thought you were still at the inn?"
Mike hesitated for a moment wondering what Lecca was aiming for. She had been relatively quiet for the entire time they knew each other, yet she was choosing him to approach each time something came to her mind, or when business required her to speak to himself and the other Rangers.
"Say, why don't we stop by the nearest tailor." She suggested. "I need to pick up the uniform that Ariel brought for me."
"Sure…" Mike nodded his head as he stuffed the rest of his souffle into his mouth.
Walking side-by-side, Mike, and Lecca both kept silent. This was a time to reflect upon the past. For the sergeant, this was the time to remember the lessons he learned throughout his childhood and military career, for the princess, this was the time to recall her prior mistakes she made under the command of her father.
One set of memories were looked fondly upon. The other was remembered in a quiet somber.
Glancing at the man next to her, Lecca remained curious of the scar that adorned his neck. She figeted with a loose strand of her silver hair. She grew nervous as she recalled the soiled clothing, and her dirtied face she had alongside the Holy Knights under her command.
Mike clenched the inside of his pants pockets as he noticed the sudden shift in the princess's mood. He remained cautious as he waited for her to address him, yet the moment never came as they continued to walk in silence.
"Can I say something?" Lecca suddenly gained Mike's attention as she grabbed his right arm with a weak hand.
Mike didn't speak up, but he nodded his head in affirmation. His arms tensed, and his body shifted to an optimal position to draw his handgun. He wasn't feeling threatened, it was just second nature.
"I haven't had the proper time-no, the proper courage to apologize to you and the others." She forced out the words as she kept her brown eyes locked on Mike's. "It was the kingdoms full intention to rip someone from another reality to force them into our own war, but on behalf of the king and his followers, I sincerely apologize for removing you from your world!"
Taken aback by the sudden apology, Mike considered the words spoken by the maiden in front of him. Her clear brown eyes, her silky silver hair, her unyielding expression.
Finding his answer Mike gently smiled, "Apology accepted." He turned on his heels as he pointed his finger at a nearby building. "I don't know how I can read the fucking sign, but that's the place, isn't it?"
His interest was now firmly laid in Lecca. It was the exact opposite for the princess; she laid her interest in him.
"Right!" With her face brightening, Lecca swiftly ran forward dragging a flustered Mike by his hand. The two raced towards the shop with smiles on their faces.