"I... I'm going back to war." Not a second later than the words slipped her father's lips, Iris stood from the table. Her chair fell to the ground with a loud thump in her haste. Sudden rage intermingled with Iris's confusion, reddening her cheeks and sending coils of of blazing heat right into her eyes. This was certainly not an announcement she expected nor approved of, for that matter.

"This had better be a jest," Iris said, looking for any confirmation that they indeed were playing tricks on her. When she only found only sorrow in the way they both looked at her, she just shook her head. He surely couldn't be serious. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. You nearly got killed last time, lest you don't remember."

His eyes remained mournful. "Calm down, Iris. I'm quite aware I nearly died. Believe me, this isn't just some misguided mid-life crisis of mine -this is a war draft, girl. They're calling one man from each family to serve in the Eldian army. As the only man of the house, I fear I have no choice in the matter."

Iris was eerily quiet, taking the news without any semblance of grace. She stood there for a minute, rich brown eyes wide and mouth agape in what could only be incomprehensible horror. Incoherent thought and emotion rendered her unable to speak for a few, very long moments. Both Elliot and Renna Gwenneth just watched as each reaction played over on the girl's face, not knowing what else to say.

Iris then gathered herself. "Forcing you?" she said, the words a mere breath on her lips. The next sentence was louder, raising in volume with each syllable. "What about your injury? What can you even do for the Eldian army with your knee in the shape it's in?" She didn't give them time to reply before she answered her own question. "I'll tell you what -nothing! You can do nothing for them after the last war they drafted you into! It's madness! No, it's more than madness -it's suicide! What can anyone hope to gain by your death?" The question hung heavy in the air for a brief second. Iris just shook her head. "You're not going."

"I wish that were true, girl. I really wish it were." He took in a breath. "They know about my leg -still, there are no exceptions. I have to go."

The anger finally subsided in Iris's face, giving way to a profound look of anguish. "There has to be an exception," she argued without hope. "What can we do to stop this?" No answer was given, flaring Iris's temper again. "Do you want to know what this is? I'll tell you what it is --this is complete and utter bullsh-."

"Iris," Renna interrupted, her voice a sort of warning.

"It. Is," Iris enunciated. Silence filled the room like a dense fog. Eyes flicked back and forth from one person to the next. Finally, Iris spoke again, directly at her father. "You... you're all I have left. Do you know that? Mother died years ago and I still haven't gotten over her -not to this day. You just can't follow her to the grave -that's too much on my heart."

Not being able to bear any more conversation, Iris whirled around and left the room. She entered her bedroom, shutting the door behind her so she could have a moment to herself. Gods, how she wished at that moment she'd had a sibling -or even a friend to consult with. Fresh tears soaked her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. The news had hit her in full force, and she couldn't even comprehend what losing her father would do to her and her aunt.

Iris needed her father, especially now -she'd already lost the only other man that had ever really been in her life. Since her mother had passed away, Elliot Gwenneth was the person she loved the absolute most in the world. How could anyone expect her to just give him up?

A while later, a knock came at Iris's bedroom door. For a second, the girl only stared at the source of the noise. And then, she wiped the free-falling droplets from her cheeks and did her best to pull herself together. A moment later, and she finally answered the knock. "You can come in."

The door opened, giving way to her limping father. He walked toward her without the support of his walking-stick. Seeing that, Iris jumped up, ready to offer him any help she could possibly give. Elliot just waved her away. "That's alright," he told her. "I have to be able to walk without it. Perhaps I can work out the soreness." He offered her a weak smile, as if that helped.

Iris just shook her head in disbelief. "Sit," she bid him. When he made another attempt to erect his shoulders, she threw him a pointed look. Elliot said nothing, only tapered his eyes. He figured he'd do as bid. Without a word, he sat on her bed and pulled her down to sit beside him.

For a moment, nothing was said between the two. Iris only laced her fingers with her father's and gave them a hard squeeze. A new tear threatened to fall from her eyes -and when it did, Iris paid it no mind.

"I wish I had a brother," she whispered, to no one in particular. Now, she turned to face her father. "Why did you and mother never have another child? Why only me?"

Elliot gave no answer, just a sad smile as they sat there together. The question faded from the air seemingly, and now the both of them looked absently around her room. Even with its warm, neutral colors and sweet-smelling wax candles, they sat unrelaxed.

"When?" Iris whispered, causing her father's gaze to fall on her face. When he didn't seem to have caught her question, Iris repeated herself. "When are you leaving?" And then, she added another question. "Who are you going to go fight?"

"I don't know for sure. The general seems to think we're being attacked by some force from Garhemia -the Tokens, I think the captain said. Forgive me, girl, but I was in so much shock at being drafted; I'm afraid I could barely pay attention to anything else." Elliot took a deep breath, not ready to deliver his next sentence. "And I'm leaving tomorrow night."

The words stabbed her in the heart and twisted their sharp implications for added pain. The girl's eyes bulged nearly out of their sockets and the next breath she heaved came out in a quick burst. "Tomorrow night?" Iris's shrill answering voice penetrated the entirety of their small home, making her father cringe.

"Yes," he answered. "I'm leaving tomorrow night."

"But..." she huffed another mouthful of air. "But that is not enough time!" Now, she was just yelling. Elliot only backed away from her sudden volume. "They can't do this! Two days' notice is not enough time to just pack up and leave! They left you no time to prepare -no time to say your goodbyes!" Her face was scarlet again, flooded with a heat that might've been uncomfortable had she paid it any mind.

Her father looked down in subtle anxiety, rubbing his knee out of habit. He tried to placate her by squeezing her closest shoulder.

"They've given me all the time I needed, girl," he told her.

The implications of that sentence took a moment for Iris to digest. "How long have you known about this?" she asked after a few moments. Her voice dropped an octave. "How long ago were you drafted?"

He looked guiltily into her eyes and then down at his lap once more, trying to find an answer -any answer-- that might appease her. She caught it; however, and lifted her father's chin with two fingers. She looked directly into her eyes before saying, "...and don't you dare lie to me."

Silence followed.

"Father," she pressed.

He sighed before just settling with the truth. "I was drafted a little over two weeks ago."

Because of her father's initial reaction to her question, Iris wasn't at all surprised at the answer he'd given her --though she had been surprised she hadn't been told sooner. Since when did her father keep things -big things like this, from her? Iris scooted away from him now, almost disgusted that she'd essentially been lied to.

"Iris..." His tone did his best to appease her.

"Since when do you keep secrets from me?" Her words were strangled and subsequently clouded with sorrow. "You've always told me everything -or so I thought."

"Don't do that," he said. "I've told you almost everything there is to know. I just couldn't tell you this. For that, I am so sorry."

"Why? Why couldn't you tell me?

"Because I couldn't afford to hurt you. You've been through so much -I just wanted to spare you some of the pain for our last two weeks together," he answered honestly. Iris couldn't help but notice that he'd called it their last two weeks together. Of all the things, Elliot was a realist -just as his daughter was. He knew that once he left for the war, he wouldn't come back from it. He was quite aware he'd die very quickly in service.

Hearing that, Iris let go of her anger, wrapping her arms tightly around her father's neck and burying her face into his shoulder. He held her closely in return, smiling to himself in what might've been his last moment of serenity. He saved the moment his memory so that he might draw upon it when... well, when his time came.

"Don't be sad, my girl," he whispered in her ear. "I'm going to be just fine. Whether I come back from this war or not, I'm going to be just fine. I promise I will."

"How can I not be sad?" she whimpered back, now sounding more like a small child now than a grown woman. "How can I be told I'll never see the person I love the most in the world ever again and not be sad?"

Elliot pulled her to arms' length now. "Because you know I'll get to see your mother again -I'm ready to see your mother again," he told her. "Because you know that my death will be an honorable one -one that means you no longer have to watch me just waste away in my chair. You would no longer would have to care for me and would be free to go and live. And because you know I will watch over you every day of your life."

"I'm not ready for this. I'm not sure if I can ever be ready for this." The reply was an honest one.

Elliot chuckled, but it was forced. "I know you can't be," he said. "I want you to know that I'd stay here with you and Renna until the very end of time if it were possible. And if it were possible, I'd run again... jump again... and do all the things with you that I wasn't able to. I'd have played more games with you when you were growing up. Sadly, life doesn't work that way -not this life, anyway. This life twists and turns and flips in matters of moments. Iris, you have to be ready every day for your life to change forever. Because it surely can. In the blink of an eye -it can change." And for a moment, some hidden meaning intermingled in his words -one that Iris caught. He masked it with more words before she could press him for more detail. "You have to promise me one thing, girl."

"What is that?" she whispered.

"No matter what happens, you have to try your hardest to be happy -to live. You have to be strong or the best years of your life will pass you by. You have to move on from the bad things or one day you'll wake up old -wondering why you never lived your life while the whole world was your limit." He stroked her cheek as he spoke, wiping away her tears.

"Okay," she promised, but the words were choked. Iris found it incredibly hard to talk through the hard lump lodged her throat.

"Good," he whispered and let his hand fall. "Remember that promise -for you."

In the next moment, Renna called for Elliot in the kitchen. For the final time that night, he and his daughter shared a long look. Afterward, he stood again without his cane. Iris only watched as he staggered back out of her room -she watched until he was completely out of sight. When she was sure he was gone, she let her head fall into her hands as sobs racked through her body.

No matter her promise, she could not let this happen.

Iris sat just like that for a long while, letting it all out while her father couldn't see her. Hours passed, and finally she got a hold on herself. By that time, though, her face was burning from being rubbed raw. With a final gulp, Iris took in the atmosphere. The cottage was completely silent now, mind for the coo of the crickets outside.

Everyone else was asleep now -they had to be, though Iris herself couldn't comprehend how either of them could sleep at a time like this. She surely couldn't.

With a sigh, she fingered the pendant around her throat. It was a silver necklace crafted specially in the shape of an iris -the flower she was named after. It had been given to Iris by her mother on her fifteenth birthday, a short two months before a deadly disease had taken Iris's mother away from her forever. Iris had never taken the necklace off.

Now, she clutched the charm tightly in her palm. "Take care of him for me, alright?"

And just like every time she ever spoken to her mother like this, she didn't get a reply -she didn't get any inclination at all that Irila Gwenneth might have heard her or was watching over her.

There was no comfort at all in this cruel world where Iris yet drew breath.