Death Has No Mercy For Lovers Anywhere

My eyes lit up, and I swallowed hard. I hadn't thought I'd missed anything like alcohol. My first instinct was to reach for the drink, but then I wondered if I could really accept such kindness.

"Thank you, but I can't pay for this," I announced, confused, and everyone around me treated it like a great joke.

"Drink, drink, son," the man who had bought me the beer encouraged me.

He seemed friendly, as did everyone else around him. He didn't seem to mind that his blond hair was sticking out in all directions, and his beard looked a bit unkempt.

"Bernie, I know there's a lot of work in the fields, but you could tidy up for today's celebration," one of his companions called out, commenting on how he wiped the foam from his beer on his shirt sleeve.

"Hey, I washed up, and I'm wearing clean clothes. What more do you want from a widower?" he replied arrogantly, though pain appeared in his eyes.

"There's a woman's touch missing in your home. You're still young. Many years have passed since her death…"

"But it's not enough."

Finally, Bernie's friends realized they'd upset him, and some of them looked away in embarrassment. I took a sip of my beer, not knowing what to say. There was a moment of silence, and everyone at the table focused on their drink.

"Sorry, I'm always a little touchy on this day," Bernie muttered, as if apologizing.

Although I didn't think he had a reason. I guessed what it was about, and I probably would have been upset too if someone had tried to force me to believe I needed a new relationship when I hadn't completely buried the feelings from the previous one.

"You actually met during the holidays, right?"

"Yes, Hans, that's how it was." Bernie smiled at me and the man sitting next to him, who hadn't spoken until now, and adjusted his glasses.

"I still don't know why she decided to be with you." I was bandaging her feet because you trampled them so badly while dancing.

"I guess no one knows that." Bernie stared at the fire. "I miss her."

"Me too, Bernie, me too, even though she was an annoying little sister." Hans sighed and smiled to himself, lost in memories.

"What happened?" I asked in a whisper, hoping it wouldn't offend them.

"The illness took her; it's a shame it didn't take her quickly, if it had to. At least she wouldn't have suffered for so long."

"I'm sorry," I said, on the verge of tears. "She must have known how much she was loved."

"I won't lie, I doubted Bernie could handle it. I suspected he'd run away when the illness got much worse." Hans joked teasingly.

"And here I surprised you, you bastard, and you tried so hard to dissuade us from a quick wedding." Bernie returned the favor.

They bantered for a while, and I learned a few more details about this tragic love story. They met during such a celebration and fell head over heels in love. Despite their families' objections, they married three months later. They were able to enjoy their married life for less than three years, most of which they spent battling her illness. Bernie began building a modest, small house, and she managed to furnish it and spend her final weeks there. Both he and Hans spoke of her with such love that I felt a slight sense of envy at her being so fortunate, yet I also chastised myself, for she couldn't even enjoy it any longer. Death had taken her and left her loved ones in such great pain, which even the passing of many years hadn't soothed.

The atmosphere didn't become heavy, but it definitely felt less festive. I didn't mind; I was moved by the story, yet with limited time, I would have preferred not to spend all my time reminiscing about this incredible woman. I was wondering what topic to bring up that would both shake Hans and Bernie from their lethargy and the past without them feeling offended or feeling like I was disrespecting her memory.

"Remind me, what exactly are we celebrating?" I tried to start with something that had caused my new companions considerable consternation.

"Rodrick, what are we celebrating?" Bernie asked, jabbing a finger at the man, who was practically nodding off, resting on his arm on the table.

"I don't know," the man, who had been jolted awake, muttered but perked up a moment later when he noticed he hadn't finished his beer. "The important thing is that we drink and eat for free."

"Hans, do you remember anything? You're a doctor, after all, so you have more in your brain than I do."

"Medical knowledge, not necessarily historical," Bernie's brother-in-law muttered, standing up. "Maybe it was the founding of the city?"

"The construction of the bridge?" the widower suggested, but he seemed unconvinced he was right. He shrugged. "Rodrick's right, the important thing is that it's free every year."

Hans brought food, and for a while we focused on satisfying our hunger. Then something started happening at the bonfire, as if the judging panel was walking among the entries, and after a short deliberation, they chose the most beautiful one. What surprised me most was that the first-place winner was thrown into the bonfire with the accompaniment of joyful screams.

"I guess there's no point in asking why we're doing this?"

"No," Bernie nodded, amused. "It's tradition, so we don't question it. We just follow it every year. And at least one of the couples who dance together here ends up getting married," he remarked, suddenly remembering something. "Have you set your sights on a girl yet? It's a shame your leg is broken, and with the way they're looking at you, they probably wouldn't let you sit."

"Has anyone who knows anything even looked at it?" Han interjected. I denied it.

He said that as long as he hadn't had too much to drink, he'd check my ankle. Fortunately, in his opinion, it was just a serious sprain, not a twist as I'd previously diagnosed. I was glad to finally have some good news, but at the same time, I could feel Bernie's eyes on me, waiting for an answer to his question and furtively pointing at the group of dancing girls. I should have been flattered, but at the moment I preferred not to attract too much attention.

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend," I replied reluctantly, but at least truthfully. "Not at this moment, at least," I added, overwhelmed by Bernie's suspicious gaze.

"And rightly so," Hans muttered. "It doesn't make sense, if I understand correctly why you're here. I admire your decision to follow our young king, even with such an injury, but in times of war, even you can find something to do." He and Bernie smiled at me amiably. I took a huge gulp of beer and choked, just trying to hide the fact that I didn't really know what they were talking about.

"I lost track of time a bit on the journey. How much time is left?"

"Easy, you don't have to rush. Right, Hans? It's a shame I can't go with you, but the farmers are supposed to stay and oversee the harvest." Bernie sighed heavily, as if he truly regretted it, but I waited anxiously for his brother-in-law's response.

"It's all supposed to start in two weeks, on the king's birthday. Don't you remember that when he informed us about this during his visit, he said that as a birthday present he would destroy the wall and defeat our Neighbors?" I nodded, as if I remembered. "Anyway, I'm not going to the capital until next week because I don't want to leave my patients here for too long. We'll be leaving three days before their birthdays."

I felt terrible; they were talking so casually and carelessly about starting a war, as if they were going for a picnic in the park or camping, not... Two weeks? Two weeks! It dawned on me that I had no time to waste; on this side, however, they were quicker to destroy the other side. I put on a sour face and pretended to feel bad, although there was some truth to it. I felt like I was suffocating…