The golden wheat tossed and rolled like waves on a windy day. Sitting on a stack of straw, Geironul gazed at the vast fields in front of her eyes. The Northern Alliance had forced Demons back to the South, reclaiming the fertile land of Baldr, Kingdom of Spring. Odin ordered the entire army to rest and refit. They built a city wall, reclaimed farmlands destroyed by the war, and stocked food reserves to cope with the war against Demons.

        Geironul sat before the wheatfield, expressionless. Deep inside her heart, her emotion was stirring for no reason. She had been at the army for numerous years, and until now, she had never pondered her reason behind going to battle.

        Odin called on survivors from the fallen kingdoms to join the army, and used their hatred towards Demons to fight the enemy. Yet, Geironul, who had become a valkyrie, felt no hatred in her heart. She promised to join the army for she loved battles. Even though she was a princess of a fallen kingdom, she had never thought of vengeance.

        Wheat in the field was rustling in wind. The smell of straw relaxed Geironul. With the sight as background, Geironul’s mind recalled memories of buildings once standing there; her past memory overlapped with the golden field before her. During Kingdom of Spring’s prime, the bustling streets were crowded by peasants and merchants. Ever since she was small, Geironul did not behave like a princess should. What she liked most is to run wild in the fields. Yet, her father pressured her to study in hopes that she would become a virtuous and gracious princess. Geironul could not escape this “torment” until her younger sister, who exuded an aura of elegance as she aged, could substitute her. Now, when she looked back, everything that had happened seemed transient.

        Later, Geironul became a agile female warrior under the teaching of mercenaries. Since then, she grew addicted to the lost of self she experienced in battles. She had always been yearned for the satisfaction derived from battling and this continued to this day. Receiving the order to rest and refit, Geironul had planned to request a new assignment; she did not really care where she would be assigned as long as there were still ongoing battles. Yet, valkyrie Urd suggested that she return to her homeland, so she could take a look at what Baldr had become. She said nothing upon hearing Urd’s suggestion, and the gracious valkyrie added, ‘When compared to the frontline's set defensive lines, vast open farmlands are a more likely target for sneak attacks. So, it would need more protection, right?’

        Geironul was persuaded to return to her homeland where she could not help herself from recalling the past. Staring blankly at the vista before her, she suddenly remembered that she had not had a single drop of wine for the whole day. The realization that something besides alcohol had calmed her was surprising. With that, Geironul finally understood that her enthrallment with armed conflict was to fill emptiness in her heart from losing her home.

        Geironul jumped down from the strawstack. With her spear, she aimed at her flask's bottom and flicked it into the air. It landed steadily into her arms.

        “I can’t stay idle like this forever. Well, I’d better patrol around.” Geironul set foot in her homeland. Heading to her home, she walked on a path which she had not strode upon for a long time.

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