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Lilia sat cross-legged in the meadow, the grass cool beneath his fingertips, brushing gently against his skin as the breeze rolled through.
The sky above him slowly shifted, the stars fading as the first light of dawn began to spill across the horizon.
The warm hues of orange and gold kissed the earth, but Lilia didn’t move to greet them.
His crimson eyes remained distant, heavy with memories, as if searching for something lost in the spaces between night and day.
He lowered his gaze to the object in his hand: an old acorn pendant, smooth from years of wear.
Attached to it was a small wooden dove, its edges worn and weathered by time.
The tiny carving had once been precise, its wings spread wide as if it were ready to take flight. Now, it was faded, like the memories it carried.
Lilia ran his thumb along the curve of the acorn, feeling the ridges beneath his touch—each line a reminder of a promise unfulfilled.
A bitter smile curled at the edges of his lips.
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“If only…”
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The words were unspoken, yet they hung in the air, heavy with regret.
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If only they could have stayed as children forever—untouched by duty, war, and the cruel passing of time.
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If only the days spent chasing fireflies and exchanging secret smiles had lasted longer.
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If only there had been no need for swords, shields, or betrayals.
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Lilia clenched the pendant, his knuckles whitening.
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If only things had been different...
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The dawn stretched further across the sky, bathing the meadow in soft light, but the warmth it offered was hollow.
In his heart, the ache remained.
He thought of the Knight of Dawn—the boy he once knew, and the man he could never truly forget. A friend, a stranger, and now... just a ghost that lingered in his memories.
The sound of birdsong stirred in the distance, faint and melancholy, like the echo of a long-lost lullaby. The dove on the pendant felt heavier in his palm.
Lilia exhaled slowly, a breath weighed down by too many “what ifs” and too few answers.
With trembling fingers, he slipped the pendant into his pocket, as if hiding it could conceal the ache it carried.
The meadow stood silent around him, save for the distant hum of life waking with the new day.
Lilia watched the dawn spread its wings, a mirror to the wooden dove.
Yet, no matter how bright the sky became, the night within him refused to leave.
He closed his eyes. Just for a moment.
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“If only…”
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But even the dawn could not turn back time.
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The war had taken everything from Lilia—peace, laughter, friends he’d once held dear.
It had hollowed him out, leaving only duty and vengeance in its place.
Yet somehow, his restless steps carried him toward a place untouched by bloodshed: the meadow from his youth.
The wind whispered through tall grasses, bending flowers toward the ground, where dappled sunlight spilled between the trees. It was just as he remembered.
Hidden from the world, peaceful, almost too perfect—a stark contrast to the nightmare raging beyond its borders. Lilia exhaled, a rare and shaky breath that seemed to peel away the mask he wore.
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He wasn’t General Vanrouge here.
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He wasn’t the fae warrior with bloodstained hands.
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Blood that came from his enemies..
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Humans..
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But rather....
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He was just… Lilia.
Lilia clenched his jaw as he stood at the meadow’s edge, his heart heavier than it had been in centuries.
Every step back to this place brought with it a flood of emotions—ones he thought he had buried.
He remembered hearing about the human boy’s disappearance soon after their last meeting.
The war had been brewing, and yet she had warned him.
" You must not let emotions cloud your judgment, Lilia.
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One day, those humans you played with will become your enemies. '
He hadn’t known then how right she would be. The next time Lilia had crossed paths with humans, it was on a battlefield, sword in hand.
He had justified the bloodshed, telling himself it was necessary. But now, standing at the entrance to their childhood sanctuary, the guilt gnawed at him like a festering wound.
If he had told the boy to stay away, would things have turned out differently?
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He tread carefully through the meadow, his black eyes scanning the familiar landscape.
This place had been his refuge as a child—a secret corner of the world where he’d played with a strange human boy who had stumbled across it.
They’d promised never to tell anyone else about their sanctuary. It had felt like a dream then, two boys from different worlds meeting under the sun with no thought of the future.
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“You’re the fastest fae I’ve ever met!”
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“I’m the only fae you’ve met,”
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“Maybe.”
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“But you’re still my friend, right?”
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“Yeah. Friends.”
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Lilia ran a hand through his hair, now cut to his shoulders to avoid recognition, streaked with red that gleamed faintly in the light.
He didn’t expect to find anything more than old memories here. His time with that boy—those stolen afternoons in the meadow—belonged to a past that could never be reclaimed.
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“Do you think we’ll always be friends?”
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“Of course. We’ll always have this place.”
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“Even if we grow up? Even if we change?”
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“Nothing will change. I won’t let it.”
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Lilia reached the center of the clearing, he stopped short.
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Someone was already there.
A man sat under the same oak tree they had rested against so long ago, one knee drawn up as he leaned back, his gaze lost in the sky with his hair golden hair swaying from the gentle breeze.
His armor lay beside him, the plates scratched from countless battles. His face covered with a helmet had making the image sharpened into something more solemn, more weathered—but there was no mistaking who he was.
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The Knight of Dawn.
The world felt like it tilted beneath Lilia’s feet. He should turn and leave—fade back into the forest where he belonged. But something rooted him in place, a force stronger than logic or reason. He hated this man.
He had every reason to. This was the knight responsible who lead the army thy enemies of the fae. The same one who would plunge his sword into countless fae before this war ended.
And yet… he was also the boy Lilia had once known. The boy who had offered his hand when Lilia tripped over roots, the one who had listened to his dreams.
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He nevered tell anyone...
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That he knew him.....
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Yet...
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What was he doing here?
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Why had he returned to this meadow, of all places?
Lilia felt the old hatred rise within him like a tide, crashing against the fragile remnants of something softer—something he hadn’t dared to name for centuries.
He clenched his fists, forcing down the venom in his heart. He would not let his emotions control him. Not now.
Before he could decide whether to stay or leave, the Knight of Dawn turned his head, and their eyes met.
For a moment, the world stood still.
The knight’s expression shifted, clearly surprise flickering across his features, followed by something gentler—something almost like recognition despite wearing the helmet...He just knew it..
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He was never wrong..
He rose slowly, as if afraid that moving too quickly might shatter the moment.
“Lilia?” he asked softly, his voice carrying the same warmth it had all those years ago.
Lilia’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. He didn’t know how to respond.
The knight took a cautious step forward, his gaze searching Lilia’s face. “I wasn’t sure if you would remember this place,” he admitted with a small, wistful smile.
“I kept coming back… hoping, I suppose.”
Lilia forced a laugh, though it came out bitter and sharp. “You shouldn’t have.”
The knight’s eyes softened as he gazed at the clearing.
“I used to imagine what it would’ve been like... if there hadn’t been a war.”
Lilia arched a brow, masking his emotions behind a cool expression.
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“No.” The knight’s voice was low and tinged with regret.
“It’s just... I think about it sometimes. If we could’ve stayed here. If we didn’t have to grow up into what we became.”Lilia’s breath hitched, but he forced his face to remain neutral.
“That’s not the world we live in.”The knight’s smile was sad.
“No. But it’s the one I wish we did.”
The knight’s smile faltered, but he didn’t look away.
“I know.” He glanced around the meadow, his expression clouded with something akin to regret.
“I thought maybe, if I came here, I could remember what it felt like... before everything.”
“Before the war,” Lilia said flatly.
The knight nodded, his gaze heavy with unspoken apologies. “I didn’t know then. I didn’t understand what the world was becoming.”
“And now you do?” Lilia asked, his voice cutting like a blade.
“Now that you’ve killed my people and burned our homes, you’ve finally come to understand?”
The knight’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Yes. I see it now—how blind I was. I thought I was fighting for and to honor my debt, but I was only chasing a lie.”Lilia scoffed, crossing his arms.
“And you expect forgiveness?”
“I don’t,” the knight said softly.
“I just wanted... I don’t know. To see you one last time. To see if the boy I knew was still in there.”Lilia’s expression hardened.
“He’s gone. You made sure of that.”The knight dropped his gaze, shoulders slumping.
“I never wanted this war. But wanting isn’t enough, is it?”
“No,” Lilia replied coldly. “It never is.”
The knight flinched, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the ground.
“I can’t undo what’s been done, Lilia.”
“No, you can’t,” Lilia whispered, the bitterness rising like bile in his throat.
He had come here to remember a time before hatred, but standing before the knight now, all he could feel was the weight of betrayal.
Yet beneath the anger, buried deep, was something else—something far more dangerous.
A flicker of longing.
The knight took another step closer, his presence both familiar and foreign.
“You were always better than this,” he murmured.
“Better than me. I see that now.”
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“Do you think we’ll ever have to fight?”
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“Why would we? We’re friends.”
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“But what if…..What if something happens, and we don’t have a choice?”
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“Nothing will happen.”
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Lilia laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
“Don’t flatter me.”
A sharp breeze rustled the leaves above them, carrying with it the distant echoes of war.
Lilia knew this encounter this brief moment of peace would be their last before they met again under very different circumstances.
The knight seemed to read his thoughts.
“We’ll see each other on the battlefield soon, won’t we?”Lilia’s heart clenched, but his face remained impassive.
“If you don’t die before then.”A faint, humorless smile flickered on the knight’s lips.
“Perhaps you’ll be the one to kill me.”Lilia said nothing.
He didn’t trust himself to answer.
Silence fell between them, heavy with the things they couldn’t say. Lilia wanted to hate him, needed to hate him—but seeing him here, so close and so achingly familiar, made it impossible to bury the memories that still clung to his heart.
He had come to this meadow seeking peace, and instead, he had found the one person who could unravel him entirely.
The knight stepped closer until they were only inches apart.
“I wish things were different,” he whispered.
“So do I,” Lilia admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession.
For a moment, they stood there, suspended in the fragile space between past and present.
Lilia knew this couldn’t last—knew that they would soon return to opposite sides of a war they couldn’t escape.
But here, in this meadow, they were just two boys who had once shared a dream.
Lilia’s fingers grazed the pendant tucked inside his cloak—a keepsake from a lifetime ago. It was a small, acorn pendant, the boy had given him as a token of their friendship.
Lilia had kept it, even when he knew he should have thrown it away, long after the boy became a knight and the knight became an enemy.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering the warmth of those early days—the way the human boy had looked at him, not with fear or hatred, but with something close to awe.
He had thought that kind of connection could last forever.
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But forever was a lie.
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And for now, that was enough.
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The knight reached out slowly, as if asking permission. When Lilia didn’t pull away, he rested a hand on his shoulder—just as he had done all those years ago.
“Goodbye, Lilia,” the knight whispered, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion.
The knight hesitated before turning to leave, digging something from his belt pouch.
He held it out—a small, wooden pendant in the shape of a dove, its surface worn smooth by time.
“You gave this to me the last time we were here,” he said quietly.
“Said it would keep me safe.”Lilia stared at the pendant, his throat tightening painfully.
He remembered it now how he’d carved it himself with clumsy, childish hands and times when he had trouble what to give him.
He hadn’t thought it would still exist after all these years.The knight placed the pendant in Lilia’s palm, closing his fingers gently around it.
“It kept me safe for a while,” he murmured.
“Maybe it’ll do the same for you.”
Lilia didn’t answer.
His fingers tightened around the pendant as the knight turned and walked away, leaving him with memories he wasn’t sure he could survive.
Lilia swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet the knight’s gaze.
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“Goodbye.”
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And with that, the Knight of Dawn turned and walked away, leaving Lilia alone in the meadow.
Lilia stood there for a long time, watching the knight’s figure disappear into the forest.
Lilia felt the weight of the pendant in his hand—a reminder of what could never be.
He wanted to call after him, to say something, anything that would make the ache in his chest ease.
But the words died on his tongue.He let the pendant slip from his hand, watching it fall into the grass.
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There was no going back to what they had.
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There never had been.
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The wind swept through the meadow again, carrying away the echoes of their shared past.
Lilia closed his eyes, forcing himself to turn away.
The next time they met, it would be in battle. And Lilia would not hesitate.
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Not again.
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“If I were a knight,” the boy with golden hair had said, grinning,
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“I’d protect you from everything. No one would dare lay a hand on you.” The boy finished making the other boy chuckle who had red highlights.
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“And if I were a fae prince,” The other boy had teased,
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“I’d command the flowers to bloom just for you.”
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They had laughed then, basking in the foolishness of childhood dreams, believing for one fleeting moment that the world could be as simple as that.
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But dreams were for children.....
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....and children grew up into soldiers.