The hour was early and the time was morning. This information came from the small mechanical water clock at the camp. We could not tell from simply glancing up at the sky and judging the time from the position of the sun and color of the sky — for the sun was hidden, and the only occupation of the sky in the foul marshland of ours was clouds of gray, forecasting times of rain and sorrow, and the blood to be spilt. These nimbostratus clouds, however, were not the sole enemy of our joy; the men themselves unknowingly extracted happiness from the air. Their bleak, miserable expressions, and throats dry from absence of conversation contributed to the melancholy. Jokes, tales, any attempt to boost spirits were useless, ineffectual — like a man trying to light a match during a storm of sleet.

Nonetheless, I knew of one. 

His name was Janiko -- a small, sprightly boy with years some under twenty. I forgot his exact age, for I did not see him much; Janiko’s home was not with us in this swamp. For, in war, there are two sides, and I was on one; Janiko on the other. 

And we were friends, forced to fight each other in this bloody game of conquest we call war. I had known Janiko for a long time, before our two nations were at war. We grew up in the same small town, and Janiko was my only friend through that time. But war ravaged our land, and our paths split - we never forgot the other, through the many years we were separated.

But now we were drafted men, and our friendship in secrecy was difficult. Rarely did I see my friend except for moments when he manages to find me, alone on my break. I knew not how he crossed enemy lines without being seen by either side of men. Though, the void of light certainly contributed, as did his sprightly stature. Yet, the thought that he risked his life simply to spend time with me never left my mind. To die on the battlefield was one thing, a common thing, a natural and unimportant thing; but it would be tragic to die on the conscience of a friend. The constant gunfire aided my worry, as I feared that a stray bullet may always find its way to us. At first it had been startling, but we slowly grew used to it. 

Today is such a day that Janiko finds me alone, as I am mindlessly straying around the outskirts of our camp, with half the intention of guard duty. He appears in his ragged shirt a few sizes too big, making me frown at the absence of warm layers. His hair is ruffled, and his skin pale from the constant exposure to the cold. I hear, as always, gunfire several meters away from us. 

“Dimitri!” Janiko exclaims. “Why the long face?”

It was his usual greeting, a nod to my everlasting frown. “It is later than usual,” I remark, taking a perfunctory glance at the sky. 

“Bah!” laughs Janiko. “What does anyone know of what is late or early here? Come, walk with me.”

We start a slow pace through the dry frost of the forest. The bullets seemed to have momentarily stopped. “What you say is true,” I murmur. “The sun has left this place a long time ago. It cares not of us. Light has forgotten its way to these forests.”

Janiko takes a sidelong glance at me. Even his gait is lively, with a spring in his step compared to my low trudge. “I would not be so certain. The sun has left to provide me shadow as we meet. Otherwise, I would likely get shot as I cross the border.”

I give out a short bark of a laugh. “How is it that you always come to do that?”

“Do what?” asks Janiko, puzzled. 

“Take the most… austere of things and make something bright out of them. Everyday I see you, your face is brighter tenfold in comparison to the men at my camp. I have never seen such misery,” I profess. “And I do not blame them. It must be eternally difficult to stay happy in a situation like this.”

“Well… I am not sad because I do not want to be sad.” Janiko pauses. “There is bad… and there is good. Why is it that man tends to see the bad more clearly than the good?”

“The bad is more plentiful than the good,” I say.

“To some,” admits Janiko. “But there shall always exist good, and it can always be found.” He looks at me. “Or so I think. What do I know? I simply see no happiness in a life without sorrow.”

“Well, you are very strange,” I grunt.

 Janiko smiles. “Darkness is a passing thing, Dmitri. Maybe we live in midnight, but the dawn must come to pass. The sun shall not shine on us today, so perhaps it will tomorrow. Why not look forward to the light?”

I sigh. “I wish you could stay with me, Janiko. It is not right that my men will see you only as an enemy.”

“I know,” says Janiko. “I shall try to visit you more often. Or you could visit me.”

The thought of crossing enemy lines makes my stomach squirm, and immediately I feel guilty. Janiko risks his life for my joy, so why should I not for his?

My friend seems to sense my uncertainty. “It is fine if you do not want to,” he says quickly. “After all, you are higher ranked than I. It would be less convenient for you to have to leave your camp. I shall meet you at this location tomorrow.”

In the distance, gunfire breaks out. It starts at a few shots, then it rapidly becomes the sound of constant fire. “You must get going. Be quick. Make sure you are not seen.” I glance at his loose shirt. “And please, try to wear a coat next time.”

“You and my mother would get along very nicely,” grins Janiko, but he starts moving, breaking into a run after a few steps. I watch as he fades into the fog.

The next day, the sun broke out.

I had nearly forgotten what it looked like, my sight so deeply adapted to grim skies. Truly, it was not a light of great significance; the day may have been slightly brighter and the air slightly warmer. But it was a light, and the sun had never appeared so bright. The men, too, had merrier expressions. They moved with greater speed, they talked with greater force, and the jokes and tales and stories they told received the faintest of laughs.

At noon came the true booster of our moods, more tangible than the light of day. 

“There is talk of peace,” said a major as we gathered around to eat lunch on damp tree stumps as chairs. “The General himself said that he foresaw an end to this godforsaken war, not too far into the future.”

Hardly had I heard words as cheerful as that. It was as Janiko had said; perhaps this was the dawn. I had never seen a group of people so happy. Once in a while, I could even see some men celebrating -- it was both startling and amazing, to see the spirits of men so unbelievably turned around. The joy was infectious; I could not help but smile, my mouth stuck in an everlasting grin.

I wanted to talk to Janiko, for it was quite possible he had not heard the news. I wanted his opinion on the inexplicable elation of the soldiers. Though it was not close to dusk, I hoped he would be at the spot he had mentioned prior. 

To my delight, he was there, sitting against a tree. I waved to him from the distance.

He did not wave back.

A shade of fear rippled through my body. As I got closer, I could make out his body position better. He was not sitting against a tree, he was slumped against a tree. His head drooped down, and he was not moving. 

The sun has left to provide me shadow as we meet. Otherwise, I would likely get shot as I cross the border.

I slowed to a stop. Several days he had traveled to me, protected by the dark, and it was this day, the happiest of days, the day of all days, that it happened. 

He had asked me to visit him. He asked me once, almost as a passing question. Why had I not accepted? Why did I then find it frightening to cross the border? Why was it him instead of me?

I thought back to his words, that last night. Was it possible to find positivity within the death of my dearest friend? Was there a trace of good in this?

Was this dawn, or the darkest hour of the night? 

“What did I do, Janiko?” I asked the motionless body, dropping to my knees. “I… took your life for granted. I’m sorry. Janiko, I’m sorry…”

“Huh?” 

Janiko’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he seemed alarmed, then he relaxed at the sight of me. “What?” he asked. “My… my life?”

I could not speak; I only stared at him. “Janiko, I… I thought you were dead,” I managed. “I thought I killed you.”

His face transformed into one of puzzlement. “Killed me?”

“It’s like you said earlier,” I stammered. “The - the sun, it's out now, and - you said it gave you shade, and I thought-”

“My friend!” smiled Janiko. “Have you forgotten what I said so quickly? The sun is out, there is talk of peace, and you blubber over a boy who happened to be taking a nap of apparent misfortune.”

  “You were… sleeping?” I asked, my sadness slowly being replaced by a feeling of stupidity.

“Yes!” laughed Janiko. “You did not think to check?”

“Well, I-”

Janiko sighed. He got up, brushing off the dirt from his back. He looked up at the sun, glistening through the frost on the branches of the trees. “It is as I said. People always look for sorrow instead of good. You should consider taking my advice, you know. I am beginning to think myself more wise as time goes on.” 

“I am an idiot,” I mumble. 

“Maybe a little,” said Janiko with a twinkle in his eyes. He started walking. “Come, walk with me.”

I walked with him. We heard no gunshots.