Van Archimhy

Everyone went home with smiles plastered on their faces, but just like before, Van remained unconvinced. Slowly, he walked pass the same familiar road. Lights filled in and it was different.

Flakes of snow cascaded from the skyline, Sarah's death was still fresh. Losing a wife was more painful than losing an arm. A loud sigh escaped Van's breathing. The unpalatable silence made his reverberating sound loud. 

Almost no one was left wandering along the streets, only at least two or three citizens were strolling. Van found the silence that he was looking for. 

On his very steps, Van's thoughts vigorously ran. He still couldn't forget what Sydon said. No one objected the declaration, it was all about freedom.  

"People were blind,"  Van said. Men whom he came across with did not bother to look back. He was just an insignificant man in their sight. 

A small house reached Van's sight. He was nearly home, the withered greeneries was the first thing which caught his attention. Sarah died along with the the garden. Everything around Van was mourning, and he wondered if the world will even continue to revolve. 

Only a few feet separated him from his so called home, the whole surroundings grew colorless and dull, as if no rainbow existed after Sarah died. Van's eye gave up, a tear fell. Sobs escaped his throat, knees trembled.

He wondered along with the tragic occurrence, "Why is this happening to me?!" Almost every ear heard his exclamation, but he did not bother. 

A soldier heard his shout too, he hid himself, sneaking by the near dark alley. Allen was ordered to follow the suspicious Hemian, which was Van. Caesar sent him, he was the most trusted companion of the warlord. 

From his position, Allen took out his portable camera. Hands stick out from the wall, he was told to take documentation pictures. 

'What's so special of you that even the warlord turned his head?' Allen asked.

A few shots clicked but his job wasn't yet over. Allen kept on taking glances before Van completely entered his house. Despite how cunning and emotionless he was called to be, a small part of him sympathized the mourning man. It was hard to admit, and he was scared of being frail and weak like before. 

Allen tried to inhale and exhale repeatedly. "Don't care for him," he tried convincing himself. 

While he was busy taking cover, Van went inside, still being unaware of someone's spying. He was too preoccupied with all his unstable emotions. Tears crowded beyond his eyes, blurring his sight. People were calm and eased, but the case wasn't for him. 

After entering the door, Van found no courage nor strength to carry on. Slowly, he drifted downwards, leaning full weight towards the door. 

He weakly uttered his wife's name, "Sarah..." 

No one can wipe his tears dry, that was Sarah's job, but death made her resign. Continously, his groans and murmuring filled the silent corners. He won't bother anyone, Van was called to live alone. 

Lights were still off, Van joined in along with the darkness. He was shadowed by sadness. His knees finally reached his forehead, they aligned and rested solemnly. Like a ball scrounging, the widowed man rested. 

Van tried calming down, hoping that at least in his sleep, he could forget the tragic end of Sarah's life. Eyelids rolled down and they were loaded heavily. They remained shut. 

Solitude continued to torment him, but it wasn't the last one yet. Sarah's laughing and giggling pursued to recall their memories. It was just a delusion, and Van was aware of that. His sobs grew louder. 

"Sarah..." he uttered for the nth time

He whimpered his own throat, words were too weak to sprang from his mouth. But something made the whole scene stop. A loud crash made Van look up. It came from the kitchen. Despite his weariness, Van rose up to check the commotion. 

He turned the lights on along his way. The halls lit up, giving a clear view towards the kitchen. Utensils were scattered and even plates were shattered. Van went on, but this time, his steps were silent. Closely, he sneaked behind the wall. 

'Maybe an animal did this,' he hoped.

The vase near the doorframe served as his bat. For a minute more, he remained settled, but a loud crash forced Van to come out. Eyes scanned the whole area, no detail surpassed his gaze. 

A simple gawk wasn't enough, the widowed man continued to walk inside. His hand gripped tightly onto the vase, nearly crushing it with pressure. The whole kitchen was a trash, but the idea or reason for it showed no evidence. 

"Come out! Who ever you are!" Van shouted. 

Now, he was certain. This wasn't caused by an animal. The mess looked like someone was looking for something, but what? Preceeding to the next corner, Van found something beneath his foot. 

It was a broken electronic tag, trickling with cracks. To get that working was impossible. Van extended his arm to grab it. A familiar sensation filled him, he should be fearful, but instead he was feeling overwhelmed. 

The tag laid dead on his palm. Its black retro matte color drove back to his photographic memory. 

"You came back for me," Van said. His hands did their course, the tag belongs to him before. And it's time to wear it again. Van attached it to his wrist, its power was lost, but the drive was still there. 

Despite the great mystery, Van felt the surreal past of his coming back to life. It was of great unknown how the tag reached him, and what was it doing here, but Van no longer cared. 

His old service for the Prime was calling, maybe it was the answer to help him move on. Sarah's death was still fresh, and his heart found no way to comprehend for the lose. 

Van took his last glance to the tag, a wide smile flashed in joyful tears.

"I'm coming back my Prime."