Chapter Text
“If all this—when all this—comes to an end one day, I hope… I hope to see you again.”
—————————
Sentinel quietly walks, the only sound being the grass getting crushed under her feet. Sentinel contemplates how Marsha was once her enemy, and despite that— Marsha is now the only person outside of her family that she trusts.
Once they were after each other’s throats, and now… now that enmity has faded, where Sentinel now thinks instead about that horse that she and Marsha had just rode together.
Sentinel continues to deliberate her feelings towards Marsha as she walks “home”, eventually arriving at the monastery where her brother awaits her.
“I am here to pray,” she states curtly to her brother. Sentinel then silently kneels down, praying for Marsha’s safety. Despite everything that’s been happening in the war, Sentinel had finally found a moment of respite with Marsha— but naturally, during war time, nobody would really be safe. Sentinel then prayed to and for Agnès, hoping that Agnès would one day return to her and that the war would finally end then.
Sentinel swore that she would protect Marsha from then on.
—————————
The year is 1918.
It should be the end of the war.
Sentinel silently observes the peace agreements from a distance. She maintains a razor-sharp focus on the delegates there, in case anything happens.
To Sentinel’s surprise, a gunshot rings out among the hopeful chatter.
Silence.
…
…
The shot is quickly followed by shouts and screams, coming from both civilians, the Foundation, and the delegates.
A confused civilian shouts. “Good lord, what happened?!”
A child cries. “Mama?! Where are you?!”
A weary soldier curses. “God damn it, I thought this war was going to finally be over!”
But there was one shout that really caught Sentinel’s attention.
“Marsha’s been shot!”
One foundation employee.
Another shout follows.
“Someone get her medical attention!”
And another.
“Do we even have another medic around here?!”
Sentinel can hear her heart pounding in her chest.
She feels the urge to fly down and help Marsha herself, but Sentinel knows that it would be more wise to let the Foundation tend to the wound, so Sentinel remains still as she observes the scene.
Sentinel mutters a prayer.
“My heart’s desire is that May God spare your life, Marsha.”