9. That Never Goes Out

More than half the army had left for home. Enra received letters with thanks and praise from their family. But letter paper and ink couldn’t defend their borders. Unless a particularly poetic empire attacked.

Their enemies, however, were everything but artful. Several empires had already retaken large parts of Company with brute force. Ottojon stopped being the largest empire some time ago.

Ever since the trick with the sinking sheep years ago, Esprante still harbored a deep hatred for anything that contained the word Otto. Their powerful fleet had destroyed Ottojon’s shores and now cut them off of all trade. Olombos had arrived on another continent long ago—not the one he wanted, but this was also fine—and since then Esprante had become a large, filthy rich empire.

Rich enough that they now attacked other countries just for fun and talked about becoming “the biggest”. It seemed suspiciously similar, Enra thought, to the goals of an elderly snake who now sat in their dungeons.

He heard life was beautiful in those other countries. They had invented machines! Things that worked and produced all on their own, without forced labor. Enra had just replaced his archer’s bows with those handguns, only to see that the enemies could already produce something called tanks in large numbers.

Chonib still regularly traveled the world, but he had never dared visit her room again. Others had to tell him where she’d been or what she’d discovered. For if he placed a paw outside of Ottojon now, he’d immediately be killed by his many enemies.

The only moment Chonib had talked to him … was to tearfully tell him that his father Himnib had died of old age. And that his mother had become a shepherd again and left for god knows where.

Chonib’s light still burned, from early dawn to late dusk.

Millions of candles wasted on an illogical hope. Or millions of something they called electricity, another invention Chonib had brought home and was playing with.

Enra studied his map for the umpteenth time. “Remove the armies at Tamli. We’ll never conquer them, and they don’t seem interested in attacking us.”

“Dear commander,” his rhino friend said, “the armies there have been gone for years. We need them to defend against the threat of Kina with, you know, dragons.”

“Fine,” said Enra with a sigh. “Then pull back armies on the shores near Floria. That continent only busies itself with itself. Do those jackals even have an army?”

“We don’t think so. Otherwise we’d have allied with them long ago,” his friend said. “I’ll do as you wish, commander. But we must talk about the other option.”

“The … other option?”

The rhino lowered his voice. “We are losing, Enra, and you know it. My luck runs out at some point. All important animals need a plan to escape in case … in case …”

Enra went silent. His mind played the memories of how beautiful Ottojon once was. Pretty pictures, filled town squares, playing children—something to hang onto and remember why you fight. Once they’d owned the entire continent Compana and large chunks of Garda and Origina. When Floria suddenly rose from the sea, Otto even wanted to send a little army there.

But the only logical conclusion was that, yes, the empire would soon fall.

“I must think about this,” he said eventually. The rhino nodded, gave him a friendly pat on the back, and left.

And think he did, like always, even knowing he wouldn’t reach any other conclusions. He mostly had to learn to … feel instead.

That night, nostalgia made him walk his old route. When he was still a young boy and searched for Chonib every evening. That route inevitably led to a half-open door behind which a light burned.

He thought he had to flee on his own and find his mother. He thought he’d feel better, or that any feeling would return, once he’d taken revenge on Otto. He thought you were meant to make logical decisions and then … become happy automatically?

Now he knew there was someone who’d travel the world with him, looking for his mother and their hundred sheep. Even though it wasn’t logical and it didn’t benefit her. Now he knew taking revenge had done nothing for him at all. There was a light that would never go out—and he finally accepted that same light burned within hin.

The light of life.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked to the door.

The light went out.

The light was out!

For the first time in hundreds of years.

In deepest dark, Enra stumbled to her room, kicking a few more vases to shatter on the floor.

“Chonib! CHONIB! I am here! I was already here! I was in time!”

But he felt it was too late. A barrage of emotions overwhelmed him and made him sick, and he couldn’t hold it back any longer, his stomach twisting and his vision flashing. If only he hadn’t hesitated. If only he’d walked faster. If only he’d answered her love immediately and left Otto alone.

If only … if only … he did not have an entire life of turning off a light that wanted to be on.

“CHONIB!”

He kicked the door off of its hinges and raced over her soft carpet, to her bed, to the painting that she’d made this night on her balcony. The painting was about to tumble off the side, three stories down, but he saved it just in time.

A black spot stared at him. Had she purposely not drawn the moon tonight? Was she not done yet?

He looked up. The entire world was covered in darkness, like an eclipse but …

A moon eclipse. Chonib’s light had gone out completely.

Enra fell to the floor, shaking from the tears. “Chonib … I am here now. I am here. I can’t be too late, no? Give me another chance.”

He knew how he sounded. She’d given him another chance for centuries. They were almost elderly bears now, even in a time when the Legend of Longlife still existed, and demigods always aged much more slowly than regular beings.

Chonib was right. She had left, she had given up on him, they were all right—

“Enra,” said her soft voice. She sounded in a panic, even more than when she stood on that sinking ship amidst flashes of thunder. “The moon is gone.”

“You didn’t do this?”

Enra turned around and searched for her glowing eyes in the dark room.

“No,” she said.

She also had to crawl through the room blindly. He heard planks groan and a cupboard that toppled over. He felt her pull on the carpet, her warm breath reaching his fur, but couldn’t see her.

Until their paws met.

Enra pulled Chonib to his warm body. He kissed her face, her whiskers, her snout, her everything.

“I am here. I am here. I love you. I love you.”

Chonib jumped on top of him and returned the kisses tenfold. But her face never lost its worry.

“The moon looked odd in my first painting. She changed all the time. And then …”

She grabbed her first attempt. She pointed at a few black splotches in irregular shapes, as if they took bites out of the moon.

Enra did not find them odd. He recognized them. He looked for the memory, for the meaning, in his slow brain that was no drowning in love and ecstasy.

Yes. He’d seen this at the border, at recent battles.

“Those are enemy airplanes!” he yelled.

“What are airplanes!?”

He pulled her upright, out of the room, through the familiar hallways, to the nearest exit.

The gravel road through the gardens held a car. Another new invention that Chonib had ordered to be made, which could be steered by bears or other quadrupeds. The others called it the “metal dragon” and witchcraft, but Chonib had seen that Origina already drove these things for decades.

“Are we not more safe in the palace?” she asked, exchanging more kisses.

“Those airplanes drop bombs,” Enra said out of breath. “In an hour, there will be no palace. Get in! Drive!”

“Should we not—”

An explosion illuminated the night sky. An entire neighborhood at the border of the capital was on fire. Not long after, a second bang, like an earthquake and volcanic eruption at the same time, hit in an entirely different location.

Never letting go of each other, they got in and started the engine.

“I can barely control this thing! I will drive us to our death!” she said.

Enra took deep breaths and kissed her again, holding her like he even had to protect her from the night air.

“To die by your side … my pleasure, the privilege is mine.”

Chonib gave him a nervous smile, then drove away from the palace at lightning speed.

The Second Conflict was in full swing, dear reader. And the rich countries in Origina fought with automatic weapons and airplanes, while Ottojon had only just replaced its swords and bows. They still had a large territory, purely because they USED to be massive, and existed for so long. But a few battles later …