She shakes as the words appear beneath her pen; curling tendrils of black ink have lost all their life.

The mountains are now a distant heaven, so far away.

From the moment I signed that form, the ice rose around me like lifting dew, to become nothing in my world anymore. From the moment I scrawled my signature, trembling, on that piece of parchment, from the moment the messenger rolled it up and mounted her Pegasus, took flight on icy white wings—

From the moment I signed that form, I forfeited half my life. It was like signing a bond, though it was only a pledge to duty. I lost the soulful warmth of my home, lost the one thing that has been bringing comfort and belief and sanity, ever since battle became the other half of my existence.

Two halves; they held each other in balance. At every moment, the halves overlapped, inseparable parts of my life. I fought over the endless shining fields of white and grey, taking flight between the monumental constructions of stone, castles and cathedrals a thousand times more majestic—made by a divine hand, decked in the frozen tears of our shared sky, Elibe's shared sky.

I have never once understood why the world battled against itself, the people divided by nonexistent lines drawn once, long ago, on an old picture. But because they exist, I must give myself to this cause. Forever a guardian of the sky, of a land meant to be free.

The halves meet and intertwine at the edges; they embrace each other completely. For my home I fight, and with every battle I guard the heart of my home, the sweet warmth that has guarded my heart from my earliest years. A price in return for her favour.

Wings whirled over the mountains, against a blur of white and grey. The hardened teardrops showered, the steep stones painted red. This was my home, the home I loved with a passion. For her I fought, with this burning passion that was the same. There she always stood beneath me, watching over my spirit while I battled in the arc of sky overhead.

Yet the pool of time will not be stagnant for long. It wasn't enough to stay within my homeland to fight anymore—a new, greater task had arisen, and I knew that it was the ultimate duty to my homeland. And so I made my choice, even though I knew this one definite fact: I would die in a foreign land. I would live my last moment in a world that I didn't know.

It was but necessary. It was a home I had come to love enough to forsake everything, even her very warmth, for.

It was time to leave it all. From the moment I signed that form, I pledged my life eternally to my homeland's cause.

And at the same time, I let go of something that would never be replaced by anything.

I lost one half. My life spun out of balance, weighed down by the other.

I would never see her again.

It is time to depart. The rusing wind that I once loved so now seems bitter, bitter ice in the grey morning. The mountains beyond are just a blur, the white tablecloth gently spread, that I have become so familiar with, that I will now leave to fulfill my duty. My duty to my homeland is most important; my wellbeing and joy only comes second.

Goodbye, my dear Ilia. I will fight for you forever.

And she mounted, looked at her homeland, soared away before the path could vanish beyond the snow.