Remembering the World Forgotten...
01 Jan 2023Astraeius
Because, facing death each day among clouds of caustic green, it is so easy to forget it. The very world we fight for. The world at peace. The world of laughing kids, and their loving parents. The world of lying lovers, and the broken hearts they leave behind. The world of innocent refugees and merciless pirates, of murderers and men of medicine. The world, in fewer words, of humanity, in all its shades.The emerald green of the enemy’s weaponry I replaced with the green-filled gardens of Emerald, the creaking calls of its ships with the songs of the small birds that nest all year round in the palace’s fruticetum. It is a peaceful place, perfect for one who seeks to collect his thoughts and write some of them down. Even amongst the silent stars, such peace does not come easily. Having feared the emotions that such calm could bring, I now find myself enjoying it. I would not say I’ve missed it, but home does feel like a warm embrace; one that you didn’t know you wanted, but melt into immediately, realising how much you needed it. It would be easy to grow lazy, here, I realise. Though perhaps I have simply forgotten the feeling of comfort, and now mistake it for sloth.
Whatever the case may be, I will allow myself this comfort for a while. Let myself remember the face of the world I leave behind, every time I fly. In any case, the Evenstar is still in no shape to carry me. Perhaps neither am I in any shape to pilot her, much less bring her back into the fight. Part of me feels like an honourless coward but I know that, despite my victories, I would be quite the small asset on the front. Perhaps I am doing myself a disservice. Still, I know that there is more I could do. I have half a mind on the how of it, but I am not yet ready to commit it to words.
Still, a year comes to a close, and it comes natural to look back upon it. Or, at least, that's what the Matron said. I hadn't seen my aunt in years, yet for some reason she only seemed interested in the last one. A shining luck, then, that it was my fullest year yet. I've been courier, soldier, explorer, and now hunter of aliens. All that, from one that a year ago was barely tolerated in Imperial society. The opal ring she gave me, I know not if I deserve, but still I felt the honour. Saw it shine pride into my father's eyes, superior though he might act to the pomp and circumstance of these events. Saw it cast envy upon the faces of my older cousins. I'd love to be able to say that no part of me enjoyed it.
But that was Achenar. Here in Cemiess, looking back I see not my triumphs, but my faults. How quickly I rushed to fight the Empire's proxy wars, more than willing to compromise the freedom that having wings gave me. How callously I fought and killed men whose sole sin was having the Federation pay for their ventures. How, even when I undertook the most noble of my endeavours, I did so both rashly and haughtily. I could have joined an AXI wing, fighting off alien scouts while their experienced pilots wrestled with the larger monsters. Instead, I rushed against the interceptors, armed with weapons that I barely understood, with neither skill nor strategy. That I did not get myself killed is a minor miracle. That I did not hurt other pilots, a bigger one.
It is a custom, in some of the Federal worlds I've visited, to set goals for oneself upon the turning of the year. It is a good custom, and one that I will partake in, this year, and promise to return to the front a more studied and ready fighter - though also a more humble one.
But for now, at least a few days more, I will enjoy the peace and quiet of these gardens. The bounty of the world that cannot be forgotten.