┋The war had been long and arduous, and it was still not over. I had tried to return come, having been discharged, but instead of the vivid green I remember, the warm, cosy feel of the cottage, and the smell of freshly cooked food, I only found death and decay. Then, they attacked. I felt sorrow for my home, but strangely enough, as jumped and lit up my swords, a happy, homey feeling washed over me. Perhaps the truth is, I don’t know what peace is. Perhaps I never felt what it’s like. Perhaps I was never interested in it.┋