The battered young man opened his eyes in confusion and looked around. Then he noticed the dark green nameplate clutched in his hand.
"I once tried to fit in with them." It was as if he heard someone's voice echoing in his mind. "I tried to join them, to fit in with them, to become one of them. But at this moment, when we should be celebrating our victory, all I feel is fear, loss, and a relief unlike anything I've ever known. Because at last, I realized that I was never one of them."
"And they will never accept us as one of them, either." Looking at the celebrations before him, the young man murmured softly. Then he picked up the broken blade beside him, its hilt set with a dark green gem, and quietly disappeared into the night.
