Inspired by "人間忽晚 Swift Dusk" by "Winky詩". The story is also inspired from the two images used in the video.
Link - http://youtu.be/Jir0tjz3gXU?si=1nOpFLKNf0cjELys
The war was over. Six months had gone by. The celebration of victory had simmered down. Every day only the ache of loss returned. A lost friend, a wife, a husband, a daughter, a son, a neighbor, a lover, and a soulmate were dwelling in the hearts of those who were left behind.
Amid the war-torn lands stood a village in the far east. A lady with a flower hairpin with two long, flowy ribbons attached to it had moved to that village. Every dusk driven by her restless feelings, she would visit the plains on the outskirts of the village. In the middle of the dreamy vines and flowers of that plain lay a single tombstone. Was she there to mourn someone? Many she knew had died, but her family was not one of them.
The lady who was neither betrothed nor married to anyone was troubled by the incessant thought of someone. She would always stand in front of that tombstone with unsure feelings.
“You knew your duty. You fought well. Maybe you…,” she said in a light, regretful voice.
Her heart wanted to say more, but she could not bring out the the right words. Perhaps it was not about the words—maybe they were clear all along, but the feelings were not.
The river stream filled in the silence with its susurration. The calm breeze of the evening blew her flowy ribbons of the hairpin, teleporting her into the memories of the one who had gifted them.
------~~~------
On the hidden edge of the mountain were their usual goodbyes. He would always look back before finally parting, with gratitude on his face. He had long black hair and wore a long-sleeved rob.
Each goodbye was before the night fell. Though the evening of this goodbye was solemn.
“Is this why they say fate is cruel?” stated the man in a low, reverent voice.
“One will leave me dead and the other dead but alive.”
One soldier intercepted and shouted, “I beg you, please run away together, somewhere far. You do not have to do this. Do not go to the war. People will never understand the truth, and the royals do not care. We all have already done our best.”
The lady replied, “You know we cannot. Our pride and care for the country… if we run away together, we will be left to live with an insufferable guilt.”
Another soldier added, “If it were me, I would choose love over country. I never liked these corrupt people anyway.”
“What do you mean choose love? We know each other from childhood and this war should not even happen,” the lady asked flustered, unable to process her own feelings and oblivious of the man’s.
The man interjected, “It is not about choosing the world over the one you care the most or the other way around, my friend,” he said, looking at the soldier.
“You make it sound so easy. Over the years of life, one accumulates a sense of belonging, and the deep connections to a place. Living in one’s country, fighting amongst the soldiers, caring its people, hearing their grief, sharing their joy. These emotions, this identity, you cannot just shed them off—even if you know that everyone in the country is not as kind as you have met them.”
His eyes stopped at the lady’s sight, “I do agree, however, that if all of this is put up against the only one you care for, the decision becomes easier. You know living without them will not be possible, but as the general has already stated, she and I both have our duties to our country. She has to lead her troops on the battleground, and I mine. Which is why I choose death on the battle ground.”
“NOBODY IS DYING,” rebuked the lady, but after pondering she fell into an unsure refusal. The woman was the female general of one of the most powerful nations in the northeast. Her eyes kept on looking into the eyes of her friend with an unsettled worry.
The man was the male general, not from the enemy nation, rather from a nation that was unwillingly pulled into the war’s politics. He sensed the hopeless despair in her voice and in all that surrounded them.
“Yes, general, we will not die,” he reassured. He would always agree with her.
“The night is about to fall. It will be nice to meet you at night for once.”
They could not meet at any night after that—or even at any dusk.
------~~~------
The woman recalled those words as she stood with her hand softly placed on the tombstone.
“You said we will not die. WE, WE… You said you wished to see the night together.”
That evening ended with the arrival of the blue dark night. Hours passed by with her resting against the tombstone. The moon reached its peak.
“The moonlight is pretty, isn’t it, my general?” came a man’s voice from behind the tombstone.”
The familiar voice was utterly unexpected for the female general. She spun around in haste, her eyes opening wide.
Far away in the bushes, the two soldiers were hugging and shouting in joy, “You survived! You too! We survived, we survived the war. And who would have thought that both of our generals did run away. They ran away but not together. Did they threaten the royals to stop the war in the middle? Is this even possible? What did they do? We will have to ask them.
That night was filled with uncontrollable tears and immense relief.
After all, for the first time they were able to see the stars together.
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.