One dusk. Elin and Glocara sat on the hillside.
"Still not planning to head back?" Elin said.
"Just a moment," Glocara replied.
"Alright. I was going to say..."
"I've already heard what you had to say."
The sun was setting. It emitted a horn-like sound from behind the clouds, enough to cover the entire mountain range. Only the black soil and the yellowing wild grass could hear this silent sound, gladly ending their homage to the sunlight and conveying the message of the impending night to the decaying dead in the ground, the battered shields abandoned on the battlefield, and the smoke rising from the windows of small stone houses.
"It's really quiet here."
"Glocara," Elin turned to her, "do you remember what I told you when we first arrived here?"
"What?"
"I said, change professions. Quit."
"Yeah, yeah."
"What's with that attitude? I'm serious."
Glocara squinted at him. "Why?"
"It's boring. It's not like it's anything good."
"Sure, being a scout and a killer, mister."
"Don't talk nonsense, I haven't killed that many people."
"I don't want to know."
"There was one... I regret it quite a bit. He wasn't exactly a good person, but the problem was, I had to take care of his old mother for a while after he died. That wasn't easy."
"He deserved it."
"This is a secret I've never told anyone, and you're just treating me like this?"
"I just hope you won't tell these stories to Elaine."
"Of course not."
"So what do you plan to do in the future? Remember, just relying on me working at the hospital won't support you and your daughter."
"Thanks, Glocara, you really know how to motivate a man. I plan to open a cheese shop."
"Cheese?"
"That's right."
"Who's going to make the cheese, you? Where will the shop be, how much money will it take, have you really thought about all this?"
"We can discuss the details later. But let me tell you, I'm serious about this."
"Okay."
"Even though things haven't officially started yet, can't you provide a little moral support?"
"Let's discuss how I can provide actual support when this thing really gets going."
"Actual support, how so?"
"I'm quite wealthy."
"You? Wealthy? How come I didn't know?"
"Hmph."
After a moment, Glocara continued speaking.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course, how else do you want me to say it for you to believe me?"
"I guess Jorgen probably won't let you resign."
"It's none of his business."
"I see." She plucked a small, damp weed from her neck and flicked it away. "Actually, I've been thinking about something too."
"What?"
"I want to have a child for you."
Elin looked at Glocara. She was still gazing in the direction of the setting sun.
"I... I've seen too much death. Even if I'm not handling corpses, I still can't escape it. All day long, hearing about this one dying, that one dying. I'm tired, Elin. 'Lady Death,' whoever first came up with that, really hit the nail on the head. I don't want this anymore. I want to create life of my own, I want more connection with living things."
Elin leaned closer to Glocara, kissing her cheek, then placing his left hand on her abdomen.
"Good idea, Glocara. But maybe something is already brewing here..."
"That doesn't sound right, Elin," she looked at him, frowning.
"What's wrong?"
"Did we forget something? Or did we mess up the steps?"
"You mean... oh." He rubbed the area under his nose with his left index finger. "Makes sense."
He smiled at her. She tapped his thigh.
"Marry me, Glocara."
She suppressed a smile, glanced at the setting sun again, then turned her gaze back to Elin.
"Just like that? Seems anticlimactic."
"That's because I didn't have time to prepare, Glocara. You suddenly proposed..."
"I proposed? I proposed? Shameless."
"If you're going to make not gambling big, not drinking excessively, not seeking other women sound like one thing..."
"You just mentioned resigning. Practice what you preach." She trailed her right fingertips along his face. "I know... there are always people in this world who suffer unjustly, because others have that power. I don't want you to continue being one of those people..."
"I have a pen and paper on me. I can write a resignation letter right now."
"...So, in addition to that, not gambling big, not drinking excessively, not seeking other women count as one thing."
"Alright, I shouldn't have reminded you..."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing." He kissed her. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Let's go back."
"Okay."
"...Wait a minute, don't you still owe me an 'I promise'?"
Crecyda stood behind the cabin. She heard the familiar sound of hooves. Out of the darkness, Nicolo slowly emerged with his gray-brown figure.
"I'm back," Renner on horseback said. "Am I late today?"
"A little. But I just finished cooking dinner. Some things delayed me during the day."
"What things?"
"Nothing much."
Renner dismounted. Two rabbits were hung together beside the saddle. He took them down, holding them in his right hand. Crecyda approached, and Renner reached out with his left hand to stroke her face, kissing her. She moved his fingers away from the scar.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"I'm okay. I know you're still worried, but I'm getting more and more used to it. Tomorrow, I want to try hunting something else."
"No need to rush. We have enough to eat."
She took his hand and led him into the house.
"Did anyone come today?"
"No," she said, "no one."
The night in the small village was quiet and simple. Later, they lay in bed together.
"Crecyda."
"What?"
"How long is your hair now?"
"Feel it and see."
Renner reached out his right hand, finding her hairline on her forehead and running his fingers down the strands.
"Do you know now?" she asked.
"I do," he said.
By the moonlight, Crecyda looked carefully at Renner's face. His eyes were closed. Forever closed. He didn't become a mourner, nor a fearless knight; he blinded himself. No more illusions, in the few remaining years of his life. No one knew they were here. They were free. And there was the wind outside. Barren fields. Nicolo's reins. Insects clinging under the green leaves. The cave in the middle of the mountains. The wreckage of a broken ship. The waves crashing against the rocks. The watchtower of the castle. The bloodstains on the palace carpets that couldn't be washed away. The moon, and people, and people, and people, and people, and people.
Black strands of hair fell to the ground.