Chapter 4: The Warrior's Burden
Chapter 4: The Warrior's Burden
The song of the birds woke me early. The first light of dawn barely touched the horizon when I opened my eyes, but I could no longer sleep. Hasar's farm was a place of peace—too peaceful for a man like me. I was used to sleeping with one eye open, always ready for whatever might come. Here, that constant vigilance had no place, but I couldn’t let it go.
I got up and stepped outside, searching for some fresh air to clear my mind. The morning breeze was gentle, and the smell of damp earth reminded me that life here continued its course, no matter what was happening beyond these fields.
I headed to the barn, where Hasar was already working, feeding the animals as usual. There was something admirable about his routine. Every day, he repeated the same tasks, yet always with the same dedication. I watched him for a moment, noticing how his hands, once hardened by combat, now worked with a gentleness I hadn't known in him before.
"Can't sleep either?" he asked without turning around, knowing I was behind him.
"I’ve never been good at sleeping in quiet places," I replied with a faint smile.
Hasar chuckled briefly, but it was a genuine laugh.
"I figured as much. Spending so much time on the battlefield changes you," he said, tossing a bucket of feed to the chickens. "But there's nothing to worry about here. Just dirt, animals, and work. That’s all."
"So it seems," I said, though my thoughts kept returning to what I knew. To what I had seen on the way here.
We fell silent for a few minutes, only the sound of the wind and the birds around us. Somehow, silence between us had always been comfortable. We didn’t need to fill the air with words. Hasar knew when to leave things unsaid, and I appreciated that. Yet, that morning, something in the air made me feel that this calm wouldn’t last long.
"Have you ever thought about going back?" I asked eventually, breaking the silence as I leaned against one of the barn posts.
Hasar paused for a moment, his hands still resting on the bucket he was holding. I noticed how his shoulders tensed slightly before he resumed moving, but this time more slowly.
"No," he said with a firmness that left no room for doubt. "My time in the wars is long over. Everything I want is here, Darius."
I nodded, though I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort. I knew Hasar had found his peace here, but the world wasn’t that forgiving. I knew that sooner or later, violence found us all, no matter how much we tried to distance ourselves from it.
"It's good that you've found something worth fighting for that doesn’t involve a sword," I commented, more to myself than to him.
"And you?" Hasar asked, looking at me seriously for the first time that morning. "Do you still fight because you don’t know how to do anything else?"
The question hit harder than I expected. For years, I had convinced myself that my path was necessary, that someone had to do the dirty work so others could live in peace. But that morning, seeing Hasar and his peaceful life, I wondered if there had ever been another option. If maybe, at some point, I’d had the chance to lay down my weapons like he did and had simply ignored it.
"I fight because it's what I know how to do," I finally answered, though the words tasted bitter. "And because someone has to do it."
Hasar watched me for a moment before returning to his work, saying no more. He knew there was no easy answer to what I had said. Maybe, deep down, he too felt some guilt for having left that path behind, but he also knew it was the best decision for his family.
The conversation passed, but something within me remained unsettled. I couldn’t enjoy this peace as Hasar did. My mind kept returning to the problems I had left behind when I came here—the migrating wildlife, the cracks that seemed to widen more and more. I knew I would have to tell him sooner or later, but not today. I didn’t want to be the one to shatter what he had built.
Later, after breakfast, the children came to find me again. Clara, with her boundless energy, wanted to show me a corner of the woods where she had seen something "magical," as she put it. Hasar and Elena let us go, laughing together at their children’s enthusiasm.
We followed a path that led into the nearby woods. Lucas walked beside me, his small steps trying to keep up with his older sister, who sped ahead at full speed. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing them so happy reminded me of what was at stake, of what I was really protecting in this world.
"What did you see, Clara?" I asked, staying close to her as we ventured deeper into the trees.
"It's a magic tree!" she exclaimed, suddenly stopping in front of an old oak whose bark was covered in green moss. "Look, it has a strange shape, like a face."
I approached, inspecting the tree as Clara and Lucas circled it with curiosity. She was right—the shape of the bark naturally resembled something that could be interpreted as a face, a figure carved by nature itself.
"You’ve got a good eye, Clara," I said, smiling as I touched the bark. "Sometimes nature surprises us in ways we don’t understand."
The children continued playing around the tree while I leaned against a nearby rock, quietly watching them. For a moment, I allowed the peace to surround me, but as always, that feeling didn’t last long.
The wind shifted direction, and with it came a familiar scent—the metallic smell of danger. I tensed immediately, my trained senses picking up the change in the air. I glanced at the children, still playing, unaware of everything. Maybe it was just my paranoia, maybe it was only the ghosts of my past, but something in the atmosphere had changed.
"It’s time to head back," I said, trying to keep the calm in my voice as I approached Clara and Lucas.
"But we’re not done yet!" Clara protested, as energetic as always.
"We can come back tomorrow," I replied, taking Lucas’ hand. "It’s better to return before it gets too late today."
The children didn’t protest much more, and we began the walk back to the farm. However, as we walked, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder again and again, expecting to see something that wasn’t there. The danger hadn’t arrived yet, but I could feel it in the air.
I knew that the peace Hasar had found wouldn’t last forever. The world out there was changing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, it would catch up to him.