He raised his glass, for everyone around him, for everyone that had fought with him, this was all for them. The others followed, raising their glasses too.
It was for how far they have gotten, and more importantly, for them.
Aether downed the drink, as if there wasn't another day to live.
Sitting back, he looked at the table in front of him, filled with food. Never in his life would he have ever thought that he would see a table with so much food again. It reminded him of his past, and to share it with the people you trust and you know most.
He couldn't replace it with anything; he would have been dumb if he had chosen hope. It had been a childish wish, after all; what would have been the point?
He knew he had made the right decision, no matter who told him otherwise.
Hearing his stomach growl, he picked up his fork and knife and cut some of his meat. How much he missed doing this, it almost made him shed a tear...
