I started off my day like I always do. I walked downstairs to the mess hall where I had my morning tea and read so poetry, but during breakfast I was interrupted by a fellow officer. He walked over to me without saying a word. He placed three items on my table and walked away. During this time I never took my eyes off him, I had a strange feeling about him. I looked down at the table and saw the items. They were Patrick’s cross bow, a bundle of arrows, and a small white letter with the Wizen seal on it.

I immediately opened the letter, knowing it must have been of the utmost importance because the Wizen seal is rarely ever used casually. I started to read the letter. I chuckled to myself because I knew it was not my father writing, it must have been Desmond. I could tell because my father would never speak with such feelings. He is a very strict individual and never seems to show much compassion.

After I finished the letter a strange feeling came over me as my lip curled into a smile. I took the letter, folded it back up and placed it into my diary. I was about to get up from the table and start packing when I looked down at Patrick’s bow and arrows. Suddenly a flash of Patrick ran though my head. I became paralyzed and fell to the floor holding my head screaming from my soul. All that ran through my mind was the memory of Patrick’s face as I held him in my arms.

Just then a flood of silence fell over me. I knew what I had to do. I quickly picked up his things and ran to the location of where he last lay. I can faintly remember where it was to the exact centimeter. I then kneeled down on the spot and pulled out a knife from my belt. With it I started to engrave into the butt of the cross-bow.

"Life has meaning only in the struggle...."
"Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the Gods....."
"So let us celebrate the struggle...."

With the message finished I placed a single arrow on the bow, cocked it back into firing position, I held the bow above my head and plunged it down into the soft moist dirt. The sound of the impact could be heard bouncing off the mountains around me. With a state of tension I steeped back and looked at my work. A memorial to Patrick is the least I could do for what he has given me....Life.....

Later that night I finished packing my things from my quarters. I looked around and basked in the emptiness of it all. There was nothing but my bag and my bed, everything else was bare. I removed my glove, which has been embedded with the flowing rune that Patrick gave me, and began to write in my diary.

"What will my father think of me?...Will he be proud?...I have tried so hard to get to where I am today...I have tried not to disappoint him....But is what I’ve done good enough for him?...I am going to see him soon... We are going to stop the Highland once and for all...But is it possible?...WE WILL SUCCEED BECAUSE WE ARE WIZEN!.. But how many lives will this war cost?...My hope is now shining, because of a simple letter...I MISS MY FATHER...how much longer will I miss him?"

I then scribbled out all the words written on that page and started to scream loudly. Finally after I felt a calm wash over me I took my pencil back to the paper...and in big print wrote simply...

"THERE IS SOMETHING, SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE THAT I AM MISSING...
AND I CAN NO LONGER HAPPILY LIVE WITHOUT IT..."

I finally closed my book and placed it with my other belongings in the bag. I could not even write today. What is wrong with me? I picked up my bag, walked out of the room, and softly closed the door behind me... I left a note on the door which simply read....

"Headed for my destiny.....Tworiver....."

When I was finally outside I looked up to the sky for a moment, embraced it’s beauty and said in the back of my mind "I’m coming father" Looking at the dimly lit trait I began to travel south looking back the training center disappeared into the shadows.

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"Boris" is (C) Konami This chapter was posted on March 25, 2000