"...An illusion?"
Meng Chen was puzzled.
He stood in a warm camp. The warmth came from the slowly burning fire at its center, and from the people chatting and laughing around it.
They wore lamellar armor forged from fine steel and moved with the strength of elite soldiers.
They sat around the fire, cups in hand, listening to the people beside them.
"My daughter turns one next month. Last time I went home, she'd learned to call me Dad. It wasn't very clear, but I knew what she said."
The man speaking held up a piece of cloth and spread it out for everyone around the fire to see.
It was coarse cloth sewn into a little outfit. The stitches were crooked, but every one was tight and sturdy.
"Look. I made her these clothes."
The man displayed the little outfit with pride.
"A grown man like you does needlework?"
The man beside him clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.
The others around the fire crowded in to see the little outfit. They all wore smiles. It was a scene of peace and warmth.
Watching from the side, Meng Chen found it heartwarming.
Was this an illusion?
He could feel the heat and smell the scents. Meat roasted over the fire, its aroma winding into his nose. Some men tore into the meat while others drank deep.
Everything felt so real.
"He Liuhun, only just awake? How are you going to become a king if you're this lazy? Don't tell me you really think that noble lady fancies you."
A man by the fire grinned at Meng Chen as he spoke.
Memories that did not belong to Meng Chen came flooding in. He knew these men well now. Some had wives, children, and elderly relatives; even those who did