“We saved them. We saved them all.”
“Yes, and they don’t remember or care that we did.”
Stalwart ran his hands through his platinum blonde hair. The subtle point of his ears grazing his wrist. “That was the deal.”
His sister nodded, “That was the price we paid for victory.”
“You, I and only a few dozen more know what happened that day, ten thousand years ago. Only we will ever know.”
His sister grew annoyed, “Gods, will you just get over it!? We made the deal. We win, but our victory won’t be remembered. What we did is barely known by half the world.”
“Far less than half, don’t you kid yourself.”
“Enough. Many died that day, and many more will die when they return. For now, the world survives and that’s enough for me.”
Stalwart’s silence was louder than his complaints.
His sister scoffed, “Such a man. When a woman raises a child, it’s her duty to carry on in silence. When a man does it, he wants a laurel for every diaper changed.
“I get it, I do. I’m just sad, alright?”
His sister chewed her lip, “Then it’s something you’ll just have to live with.” She left him to sit alone in the hall. A long structure of interwoven saplings. A beautiful wicker room centered on a six thousand year old hearth. Ages of fires had turned the pit black as pitch.
Stalwart hadn’t seen the outside world in almost two thousand years. The Flight of the Romans from the Isles was the last thing he remembered. The last time men had invaded these realms.
The world had forgotten them entirely.
Stalwart turned over the device in his hands. A smartphone. All the world’s accumulated knowledge in his hand and they still didn’t know what he had done to save them, ten thousand years ago.