That day, he saw a great big sky. Painted by the grey smoke like never before. Even though, his vision would blur occasionally, he kept staring at the expanse like it was the only thing he could do.
Another explosion. Another rain of cries. Another shower of blood and debris.
His face was caked with dirt and blood. But he couldn't lift his hand to wipe it off.
"Oh God...!", someone exclaimed nearby, whimpering and dragging himself out of the pile of debris he was buried under.
The crying man, crawled his way out, and began to find a way back in the muddy trench.
"If it hadn't rained", someone had said that about an hour ago when the fighting began, "If only it hadn't rained this morning!"
What a convenient excuse! He sat watching the crying man disappear into some corner. He wanted to tell him that he'd left his leg behind in the debris but the crying man was already gone.
Who cared anyway? As for him, he too sat there, against the wall of the trench, looking at his shredded leg. It was completely gone. And now he was just sitting in a pool of blood.
A time such as this comes for every soldier, he thought. And at such times, they are granted time to think of their life. Of the people waiting for them, of those that love them beyond everything and pray every night for them.
But that time was wasted on him. There was no one waiting for him. Nothing to look back on, no family, no lover, no kids to think of. He was all alone in the world. That's why he'd decided to fight in the war.
But now he found no fulfilment. In fact, he was filled with regret. He hadn't done anything yet. His life had meant nothing yet. He hadn't even become an adult yet. But regardless of all the 'yets', his time had come. He knew he was going to die there.
He wasn't afraid or angry. The only feeling in his heart was that of longing.
He sighed.
"Who will remember me?", escaped in a low voice.
A voice that he didn't hear himself but that was all his lips could manage anymore. His head hung low, as he felt himself fading out. Why was he given this extra time to regret not having lived enough? Why didn't the explosion that took his leg, take his life too?
"I will."
An unfamiliar voice broke in front of him. He quickly lifted his head. A young, slender figure stood in front of him in a baggy uniform. He stared at it, wildly. Upon such close inspection, he realized it was a young girl, even younger than him. She too had been fighting. She too was bruised and battered. But...
Her expression, under the shadow of her dirty, blood coated blonde hair, was similar to the sky. Devoid of life and light, a grey, dull face. And yet her words were as soothing as the song of morning birds. With just those two words, she had completely eased his longing. Now finally, he was free to feel sad.
An uncontrollable flood of tears smeared his face, clearing out the mud and blood. She stood there just the same, until he fell asleep finally.
They talked about a ghost that came to dying soldiers in the Northern front. And it soothed their souls until they were at ease. Some had seen it standing beside the dying men, but only from a distance. It was certainly a ghost, they surmised. Those who were dead were the only ones that knew the truth. Some of them had smiles on their faces when they died.
"It comes to make death easy", old soldiers would say, hoping that when they were about to died, the ghost would come to them too.
They called it a Valkyrie.
But the Valkyrie that promised to remember them couldn't help but grow up. And in that world full of strife, she had vowed to survive so she could remember those she had promised.
Her agony numbed her mind. She was lost in the endless trenches, piled with dead men. She felt like she was drowning in their blood. But the more promises she made, the more burden she carried.
In remembering all those that were dead, she even forgot her own name.
But the war ended without ever managing to kill her.
Where was she to go now? Who was she supposed to tell everything to? Perhaps those remembrances too ought to be discarded somewhere. If she could do that, then she could move on too. She could finally die.
But as I was looking at her back, I realized that once again, she had chosen not to rely on anyone. Whatever baggage she was lugging around, she was going to keep on doing it, without saying a word about it. Lady had long since stopped seeking comfort in other humans.
Her fragile figure that she always concealed under heavy clothing, was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Perhaps the rest of us were supposed to be her confidants. But we'd failed at it, just as much as she had failed. She couldn't, no matter how much she wanted to, lay herself bare to the world.
Chopper said we were supposed to stop her if she ever lost control. But the way I saw it, it looked like she was the one protecting the world from the monsters within each of us. I didn't yet understand what a Valkyrie was supposed to be.
Perhaps that treasure...perhaps that's where the answers were. But I wondered if I would ever be able to know the truth. What was Lady's treasure?
"I will not die. I, who have no name, am the original Valkyrie. With all that is true in me, someday a fire will burn. But until then, I shall put out every flame, every ember. And when it all falls down, I will be the last wall that stays standing. And I will be enough."
Somewhere over the wind, an echo traveled back to us and we looked up as the void closed in over our head and Sight's barrier crumbled to the ground.