ã€ŠA Dead Warriors Messageã€‹


 Chapter 1. The First War.

    After the sun had set over a big village they would have a bonfire. The reason for the bonfire, the lord of the region had ordered for another war. At the blazing flame that raised smoke to the dark sky, many old warriors would share their experiences with younger men. Many boys of 13 and older grinned eagerly while listening to the stories of their heroes. Stories of glory and conquest praised the men who made it through. These bonfires would bring many young men, even children to the next battlefield.

    After many stories of war from more experienced soldiers A man walks in front of the horde of bloodthirsty children. His face, scruffy and scarred, showed no hint of joy. The man, muscular, looked to be in his prime. Long gray hair despite his age is tied into a warrior''s bun. He stood disciplined in front of the many younger faces without shifting foot to foot. The young faces looked especially eager to see this hero''s feats of conquest.

    ¡°I am Warrior Gunnar. I fought in the war five years ago. I am no hero, but I have my tale to tell you.¡± His voice was loud but lacked emotion. Unlike the other fighters, he did not brag of his feats or number of enemy heads he slaughtered. The kids hearing nothing of interest let out boos and other sounds of disapproval.

    ¡°Though I do not brag, I have gone through a war. All of you green foundlings know nothing.¡± The man said, still keeping his disciplined demeanor. The jeers of disapproval were lost.

    Rumors from some of the other warriors made their way through the crowd.

    ¡°They say he never really came back from the war.¡±

    ¡°He should have died back then.¡±

    ¡°He has no respect for us older warriors.¡±

    ¡°But he did get some achievements.¡± The rumors had sullied Warrior Gunnar¡¯s reputation since the end of the war. Warrior Gunnar only stood in his place like he didn¡¯t hear anything in the first place.

    ¡°You only hear the stories of glory and conquest from others. I have come to share my own experience.¡± Warrior Gunnar had caught everyone''s attention. Then Warrior Gunnar started to tell his own story.

    I was excited for my first war. I had heard hundreds of stories and dreamed of my own glory. Surrounded by my friends since childhood, we had agreed to claim the enemies stronghold together. We went to prepare our equipment for the war. I was fortunate enough to be able to inherit my fathers armor. Gathering the rest was easy.

    Eventually we got to the ceremony of the warrior. There is only one mirror in the village. It was a rite of passage to see yourself in the mirror before war. Even more so one of the lords knights attend and give you your tie. One by one my friends and I look at ourselves in a dirty mirror. We then kneel to the knight and receive our tie. My turn arrives and I see my grinning face staring back at me. I take the precious opportunity to look at my own face. I would call myself handsome, though with suspiciously colored hair. An older warrior ties my hair behind my head. I would soon learn how to tie it myself. I am now a warrior of the lord.

    A month later we arrived at a stronghold. We were very wary from long marches and setting camps. However nothing could dampen our spirits. Overall it was good, we had enough food to eat, we were protected from wind and rain, and we had good enough sleeping arrangements, for a war that is. We could only wait for our enemy to come to us. We would take watches and practice with our weapons little by little in our free time. Occasionally an older warrior would sneak us some booze and tell us stories. We still had our pride then.

    Another month had passed when we heard the bell signaling an attack. The stronghold was not the best place to defend from. It was stuck in the middle of a plain. However, that gave us good enough advance to know when an attack was coming. We prepared our equipment, and rushed to the front. All of us were foolish and didn¡¯t have to deal with any nerves. When the enemy army approached all the warriors roared together to intimidate them. The enemy general did not take light of this and sent a rain of arrows at us. All of the warriors who had fought before were already prepared and placed their shields above them. However all the new warriors stood without our courage. The rain of arrows sailed closer and then among the thunk of many shields protecting, half of my friends were already dead. My heart stood affright however my instinct took over and scrambled for a shield. Luckily I had been uninjured in the first wave and had a shield by the second. Three of my best friends had died.

    Waves of arrows continued to rain down. Our general ordered us to charge out of the stronghold to attack. With my last pride as a warrior I charged out screaming with the other men. We charged into combat fiercely wanting to claim glory over others. The initial impact was in our favor. We quickly overtook their front line. I soon rushed in front of the other warriors in a rage. I swung my sword as quickly as I could. It was blocked by a skilled shieldman. He held a big shield and a long spear. It was finally time for my first combat. The sound of the clash overpowered anything happening. From behind the shield his spear rushed forward. I luckily pushed it out of the way with my sword and attacked from above. He blocked it in time and took a step back. I kept my caution and reaffirmed my surroundings. I looked for points of attack but he was an iron fortress. He thrust his spear forward again however it was in a good position for me so I charged at him. A sudden inspiration came to my head. I jumped in the air and kicked his shield. This made him and the person behind him fall to the ground. I knew I could not lose this opportunity and quickly stabbed them both. Then for the first time, I would see blood flow so quickly. Both of them bled quickly and soon died. I had claimed two enemy heads. I was a true warrior. As these thoughts rushed through my head, another spear hit my lower right side. The armor blocked the point, but the impact hit me back. I was on the ground and the spearman quickly ran to finish me. I didn¡¯t have the time to struggle up so I tried to prepare my sword. He stood above me and kicked the sword from my hand. I was doomed to die after only two enemies claimed. The spearman''s eyes were focused, too focused, they overwhelmed me. He raised his spear above my neck. Suddenly a sword had birthed itself from his stomach. I was saved.

    The blood dripped from his wound onto my dirtied armor. I had no mind back then, and quickly scrambled to my feet. One of my best friends had saved me. He quickly pulled his sword out of the enemies back. I quickly looked for my sword, but it had been lost. I decided to take the enemy''s spear. I had trained little with the spear, however not having a real weapon would be worse. My best friend and I then split to find our next opponents. My next opponent could only be described as a giant. I only made it to his midsection in terms of height. He was equipped with a two handed sword taller than myself. His helm signified a higher status, his head would be a good offering. To take his head would be difficult enough to claim my own glory as a warrior. Our eyes met and in that second I grew up, his eyes were cold, I then knew that war wasn¡¯t a game for glory but a claim for life. He put himself in a guard and ran forward to me. The ground thundered as he ran to me. For some reason perhaps instinct I raised my spear up to his chest. Unfortunately he was an experienced warrior and swatted my spear away. With his other hand he raised the two handed sword with monstrous strength. I knew backing away would not help so instead I ran forward. He swung wide and by some grace I was able to avoid my immediate death. I was too close to the Giant now and he picked me up with one hand. I was trying my best to squirm out of his grasp but to no avail. His grip tightened and I could feel my neck tighten as my blood ran hotter. At this time I abandoned my pride as a warrior.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    I kicked him in his groin but he stood strong. Luckily for me his grip loosened, I took that opportunity to stab his arm with my spare dagger. He dropped me and grasped his wound out of instinct. I thought he might not have been the grand warrior I thought of. He would not be able to focus on the battle in front of him and instead on his injury. I ran as quickly as I could to my spear and prepared for death.

    The Giant immediately became more cautious and tied his wound quickly with a skilled hand. By the time I had recovered, so had he. We faced each other again. My head immediately got more focused and my instincts jeered at my body. Tingling sensations filled my arms and legs encouraging movement. I somehow knew what I needed to do. I edged to the Giant''s left hand, his range would be greatly reduced with an injured arm. I would need to whittle him down just like the usual wood carvings. I prepared the spear and loosened my tense muscles. I could not overpower him in strength so I would have to be more agile. The Giant also prepared himself for the next clash. My weapon was longer than his, but he had longer arms. We were almost even, I noticed his left arm was limp. If it was unusable the battle would be easier. I kept to his injured side and suddenly thrust forward. I was aiming at his knee, wanting to injure an important place. At the last second the Giant moved and my spear only nicked his leg. I immediately jumped back in fear for reprisal. The Giant expected this and stepped forward with his sword and swung. Fortunately for my life he misjudged the distance with one arm and was unable to kill me. Instead I was thrown several feet and had a pain in my lower left side.

    My heart started to scream, I felt my life in danger again. I scrambled to my feet and charged. The Giant saw me coming and prepared his sword. I ran closer and based on my instinct jumped back. The Giant''s long sword flew past me and left an opening. Painfully I stopped my backwards motion and thrust my spear forward. I was able to get a good hit on the Giant¡¯s arm. I then rushed back to a safe distance and focused my eyes forward. The Giant stood tall, but his sword was slightly lower than before. His injured arm definitely would affect his sword.

    I didn¡¯t even think of my next attack and only knew the same wouldn¡¯t work again. I could not feel my breath or my pain. I only felt the battle and my instinct. The battle was too fast for thought and you could only rely on innate understanding. I once again rushed to him. He once again raised his sword however this time with more difficulty. I charged closer and at last second the Giant hesitated. I used this opportunity to slide down in between the Giant¡¯s legs. I could feel the chain shirt rub and tear at my skin. However the pain was not more important than my life. I quickly spun and pierced my spear through the Giant''s knee. A yelp of pain came from the Giant but it was drowned out by the many other yells. The Giant fell forward and spun on his back. It seemed like the giant would not allow his own death so easily. There was a problem on my side. Although the Giant was now limited to the ground I did not have a weapon. My spear still stuck through the enemy¡¯s knee. The only weapon I had was my small dagger used in emergencies. It wouldn¡¯t be possible to use the dagger in such circumstances.

    I looked around for a weapon, but the closest was a corpse some tens of feet away. I quickly dashed to the body and grabbed the sword in his hand. Luckily any other warriors were engaged in combat and didn¡¯t have the time to attack me. I ran back to the Giant and noticed he had broken off part of the protruding spear and wrapped a bandage around it. Though not well enough to stand it would bother him less in combat. I didn¡¯t know how to approach him. He still likely had the strength to swat me away. I then noticed some rocks by my feet.

    I started to throw rocks at the grounded Giant. Each hit did little but I could tell he was slowly tiring. I had thrown about two dozen rocks and could tell he was tired and mad. I slowly approached him with caution and took to his behind. He could not spin so he laid on his back and prepared his sword. Unfortunately for a number of reasons he could not swing at me. He did not have the strength, the flexibility, and he was injured. Taking advantage of this I swung my sword down on his arm. Though it did not sever it had turned useless. After this I stepped beside his head and swung my sword down.

    I picked his huge head up off the ground. I had been victorious, defeated a beast many times my own size. I would have glory and fame. I let out a roar and passed out.

    When I woke I was in a medical tent getting treatment. I was told by the doctor that I would live and that we had won the battle. Additionally this had been a major battle of the war and had helped grant the lord victory. I was proud of my battle and dreamed of the glory that would come to my name.

    While injured I was allowed back to my troop. I got many cheers when I returned and was complimented as a true warrior. Rumors of me passing out with a Giants head in my hands had spread. I was extremely happy about the rumors as they had spread my fame. I then went to the oldest warrior of the troop and asked about my friends. I wanted to know where they were and what task they were assigned to. That was when the warrior told me that I was the only survivor of the newbies in our troop. Terror filled me, all my friends had died. He then tasked me to clean the battlefield.

    What was left of our troop went to clean the battlefield, as far as the eye could see there were corpses everywhere. So much blood. I had not noticed it in battle but blood had a unique smell. We continued with the clean up salvaging any weapons and armor. Another group would come later and bring our side''s corpses back to be honored. My heart felt solid while cleaning the corpses. The smell itched at my nose.

    One by one I came across the corpses of my best friends. Tears unknowingly flooded my eyes. All the honor I had earned felt worthless. I would much rather have them back than some lousy head. Seeing each of their bloody bodies took part of me. Emotions and memories of each of them filled my head. The smell of their blood had poisoned me. I didn¡¯t want to smell this. I didn¡¯t want this.

    Warrior Gunnar had finished telling his story but there were no cheers or screams. Only the crackling of the fire sounded in the night air. Though many of the young children had admired this warrior once they learned of how he claimed a giant''s head. The Warrior let out a pressure at the end of his story that did not allow for protest.

    ¡°To this day I can no longer smell anything.¡± Warrior Gunnar Broke the silence. During his entire story he had not moved a finger. He kept his disciplined stance and did not add to the story. Warrior Gunnar¡¯s face had not changed from start to finish. He added no tension or emotion to the story.

    ¡°I do not tell you this because I want you to share in my pain. I want you to learn from my experience and not to live for false glory.¡± Warrior Gunnar¡¯s words had resounded through the audience but it was met with much protest. To these men war was a tradition. All of them had grown up hearing stories of heroes and the battlefield.

    ¡°Do not misunderstand, there is glory on the battlefield. I am showing that the glory does not merely come from the enemy''s head.¡± This was once again a statement that disagreed with many people. However this was taken better by the children. Many stared around at each other seeing their friends. Wondering what would happen if they were lost.

    ¡°Additionally you must learn from my loss. When I encountered my friends'' bodies, I lost my ability to smell. The reason I lost the sense was because I wished with all my being to not have to smell blood again. Even if it meant leaving the battlefield. However, you cannot ignore things because they are bad.¡± The Warriors'' words were once again questioned by all present. Ignoring such things was commonplace amongst warriors and their children.

    ¡°If you ignore something because it¡¯s bad. That makes you weak, it means you don¡¯t care. My best friends meant everything to me. If I didn¡¯t cry for them, it would be a betrayal. Were they not worth crying for?¡± Suddenly the warrior''s words made sense to many present. Seeing that some had learned the dead looking Warrior Gunnar let out a sigh.

    ¡°The battlefield is a place of death. There are many dead and we don¡¯t know anything about them. Their last moments on the battlefield are likely theirs alone. Their story and their lives belong to them even in death.¡± Warrior Gunnar had released another questionable statement. However with that the warrior left the spotlight. Leaving all the young men in wonder.

 Chapter 2. The Second War.

    There are many long tables lined up in disorderly rows lit only by two huge fires in stilted braziers. Amounts of food that would make any man drool adorn each table. Hundreds of young men and old warriors eating and drinking while paying close attention to a large stage. Many bright stars shine on the group. While they were ignorant to their beautiful appearance above. The purpose of such a meeting, to encourage war. The Lord had challenged a foe.

    On the stage a hulking warrior, explaining his great feats over his campaigns. When the hulking warrior explained how he killed three men with one slash of his sword all of the young men cheered loudly in excitement. Their eyes show excitement and great expectation.

    In the crowd sitting alone a man eats only a simple bread and drinks only clear water. This Man has long gray hair contrary to his age tied up signifying his status as a warrior. The Warrior has no emotion on his face and his eyes are listless in behavior. The Warrior pays no special attention to the warriors sharing their stories on stage. He merely sits, eats, and occasionally looks up to the sky after which he sighs his breath misting and rising.

    Silence eventually fits the crowd and they turn to face the Warrior. The Warrior recognizes his turn for stories of conquest and slowly stands. He gets to the stage slowly in no particular rush for anything. Rumors fill the crowd as words of aversion spread. This warrior had done his due share in wars, however he was usually dispirited and silent.

    ¡°I am Warrior Gunnar, I do not share stories of glory or fame¡­ War is not just taking from the enemy, and receiving your laurels.¡± The listless attitude with no nervousness or energy draws the ire of the young boys.

    ¡°You only hear of the war of conquest, however the lives of warriors should not be taken lightly.¡± His words, though emotionless, had a sense of authority to them. None of the crowd dared to speak in opposition.

    Warrior Gunnar begins his story.

    Five years ago I had talked to the young men of the village much like the current standing. My words had little effect on the warriors and they fought with their own perceived notions. For the second time I lined up in front of the village''s mirror. When my turn came I looked at the mirror. My face had no gentleness, it was only scruffy with no cleanliness covered in small cuts and scars. Much different from my handsome appearance I had before the first war.

    My turn passes and eventually the young men go and become warriors. One of the lord''s knights presides over the ceremony. An honor to the men to become warriors. After the young men look in the mirror they kneel to the knight and receive their tie. Then a veteran warrior goes to tie the born warrior''s hair. My turn comes and I walk to the young warrior, he finds it unpleasant for me to tie his hair, but it could not damper his frenzied spirit.

    Three months later we were near the front of the war. Unlike my previous war the conditions were not good. There was barely enough food and less equipment. Many had to sleep on the ground or hastily made beds. The new warriors'' spirits were down and their bodies were growing tired. During short periods of time after marching I would practice with a sword and a spear. Days slowly became more repetitive and many people wanted something thrilling. The younger generation started to gamble and drink with the older warriors. I abstained from such behavior. Eventually many younger warriors stopped any practice at all.

    It was unfortunate for them that we would soon encounter battle. We made it to a small town under the Lord''s care. We were welcomed with a feast and quartered in comfortable beds. In the night a horn blew, waking all the warriors. We quickly gathered, already equipped with our tools of war. Fate would show that an enemy troop is attacking us. We quickly gathered in no trained formation with shields and spears serving in front. We waited for a long period of time without moving an inch. Suddenly out of the sparse woods many enemy soldiers ran toward, screaming. With the lack of tactics from the enemy side our defensive position served better. There were many enemy bodies stacked in front of our shield line. Our leader gave an order

    To retreat two steps. The commander¡¯s strategy served well. Now our enemies had to crawl or jump over their comrades'' bodies.

    A yell from the other side ¡°FLY¡± sparked energy into our veterans. Luckily as I was using a spear and took cover behind a shieldman. The sound of arrows flying in the air was clear yet it was too dark to see. Many hollow thunk sounds were heard as arrows dived into wooden shields and human flesh. The sounds of people hitting the ground was unpleasant.

    Our commander ordered a charge. All the warriors yelled like beasts in a human form and charged. We were unable to see the enemy entirely but soon we got to a very lowly lit area. The shadows of men could be seen, and that was all we needed to kill. A small shield line did not hold very long with our momentum. Our troops quickly killed the enemy''s shields and continued to charge. I stay behind the shields and use my spear to easily pick on enemies. I had killed dozens of enemies but it did not matter to me. The previous war had sullied my spirit for such things.

    Many soldiers rushed past the shields and began to engage in combat. I stood still seeing people die with little emotion. Both sides lost many soldiers and I was still untouched. Once the battle had raged on and half the enemy force had been killed I decided to start my part. I picked up a shield and easily ran through the smaller battles, making my way to the enemies back line. Behind the enemy''s main force there were several dozen archers. I charged towards them with my long shield in between us. A few were able to release arrows in time but they only sunk into the shield. When in range of my sword I slashed easily and killed three of them. Luckily archers have little armor and these archers in particular were not well versed in melee combat. I had caught the attention of all the archers and knew it would be a tough battle. I rushed to the next group of archers and used their bodies as a shield. The group of three archers struggled with their bows and dropped them in favor of short swords. Unfortunately for them the range difference with my specifically chosen cavalry sword was too great. They all charged at me from my front and I quickly slashed one''s neck. He fell to the ground dead. The other two thrust their swords forward. In the midst of the impact I turned my shield away and slashed another''s neck. Suddenly I could feel a dozen arrows coming for me. I prepared my shield as quickly as possible but still caught one in the arm. The last enemy of the three fell to the ground with arrows in his back. Ruthless.

    I ran quickly behind a closeby tree to take cover. I peeked around the tree and saw an approaching swordsman with three archers wielding shortswords following behind. Because of the armor the arrow had only made a superficial wound, so I quickly yanked the arrow out. I then calmed my breathing and readied my shield and spear. At the last second I spun around the tree and stabbed at the swordsman. He easily dodged my spear, spun, and swung his sword towards my neck. Expecting this I ducked and his sword hit the tree. I slammed my shield into him and he flew back several feet landing on his back. I took this opportunity to charge the archers. I easily killed one with my spear and hid behind my shield while the two attacked. I noticed the Swordsman quickly jump to his feet and charge. When in range I thrust the back of my spear back. He deflected with his sword halting his own attack. I used the momentum from the deflection to spin and whip the front end of my spear toward him. He could only raise his arm in defense, and my spear cut through his hand.

    I was charged from behind by the two archers. Luckily they were untrained and had predictable technique. Then I spun around again, grabbing one of the archers'' wrist and pulling him in front of the other archers'' attack. Doing this I used the spins momentum to kick the swordsman back. A yelp of pain came from the archer as he was stabbed. I quickly dropped my spear, grabbed my sword and sliced his neck. His body fell to the ground and I was left face to face with the last archer. He fell backwards onto his back, and I could see a light mist rise from his pants. He called no repeatedly, but it only made it easier to kill him. I turned to the Swordsman once again, he tied off his lump of a hand and held a shortsword with the other. His eyes had a desperate look however I had no sympathy. With my swords reach and his weakness from loss of blood I easily overpowered him, leading to the swordsman''s decapitation. The rest of the battle went easily, we had won with few losses. I was honored as a key warrior in the battle, and celebrated. That night everyone but me partied as hard as they could. The next morning among the drunk we cleaned the battlefield. Scavenging from the enemy we got better supplies, and more food. However several dozen men had died, all young men. Some young men were in grief over lost friends or brothers. However from that battle there were many more people training in their free time.

    Eventually our troop got to the main battlefront. There we got to sleep some protected nights. In my free time between training I talked to some of the generals and strategists. It came upon me that I wanted to know what I fought for. What the Lord had us fighting for. Eventually I found out that the enemy noble had always been aiming for our lands. This war was what it had devolved to. This reason sat well with me, we were at least fighting to protect. Fortunately I also learned more about strategy from them. Though not entirely useful among many learned people, it was good to know.

    However it was because I learned strategy that I knew that what we had to do next was horrible. Our troop was assigned to besiege a castle.

    We marched through a deep forest, and I noticed that we were not carrying anything new. We kept the same pace for several days. Just outside the woods was the castle we would besiege. It was made out of hard stones and was taller than six men. How would our troops take this castle?

    I knew that this was a suicide mission. We had low food, no besieging equipment, and lacked enough men. We were likely to be sent only to keep the enemy occupied. Thoughts filled my mind on survival.

    I was handed an axe and ordered to cut down trees. I obediently complied and began to swing. The trees were very thick and would take many swings to fall. Soon after a horn sounded, the enemy had noticed us. The commander ordered us to continue cutting while our archers would fire. I positioned myself behind the tree so I would have no risk of being hit by an arrow. I continued to chunk away at the tree in front of me. Eventually I managed to cut it down. It fell providing potential coverage from the enemy. I hid behind the stump covering my head with a shield.

    Soon many others had managed to cut their own trees down and now dozens of tree¡¯s layed on the ground. Our commander ordered us to take cover behind the trees and to start pushing them closer to the castle. I obeyed and joined a dozen other men to push my own tree forward. Arrows continued to fly towards both sides, injuring many. We got about thirty paces from the walls of the castle and were ordered to stop. I pieced together the strategy, we would try to wait for the enemy to charge out of the castle.

    Soon enough the enemy would stop firing, and our commander ordered our archers to do the same. However our enemy did not charge out through any gate. The combat suddenly ended, we waited for many hours and the sun had set before we were ordered to retreat. We were able to eat well that day at least.

    The next day before the sun had risen we sneaked back to the tree¡¯s. As we were ordered we let out a large yell and continued to hide. We heard the sound of many feet and heard the enemy orders. FIRE AT WILL. Arrows flew everywhere, every warrior hid down as close to the trees as possible. Only by kneeling or laying down could you avoid fire. Eventually the enemy fire stopped and so did ours. Every now and then we would yell and the arrows would fly again. At night we once again retreat and are able to eat, except now our meals are not whole. We had started to ration our food.

    The next day we continued fighting. The same as the day before. That night we had little food. I sneaked out at night to try to hunt deeper in the forest. I failed to catch anything, but set up several traps.

    The next day was the same as the last, except casualties were starting to rack up. A dozen of our limited archers were injured and several were dead. Twenty of our soldiers were injured and seven were dead. Their bodies lay behind the fallen trees waiting for nothing. This night we were given even less to eat, merely a small piece of simple bread. We had no problems with water but our food was running low. At night several men including myself went out to hunt. My traps had caught two rabbits. I tried to run a small fire to avoid revealing my location. Two of the other men found me because of this. One had also caught a rabbit so we decided to split evenly.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The next day many of our men were tired, but it went mainly the same. We were running out of energy, but the enemy still had not decided to commit to melee battles. Luckily today there were no injuries or deaths. However that night only half the men got even a scrap of bread. We were officially out of food. That night my traps did well and caught two rabbits and a turkey. At my secret campfire two more men had discovered it. I suggested splitting the food and they were thankful. We chatted a little bit about what we would do when we got back home.

    The next day started the same, we snuck out before dawn and yelled. The enemy would then gather and shoot arrows. It was midday when terror came over our troops. Our commander had been hit and killed by an arrow. There was no one qualified to take his position. We continued with the same strategy as before but it was much less effective. We were not a force together, but several dozen men each fighting their own. After sunfall we each retreated on our own.

    We gathered in our tent and had a discussion. There was a little food left for the commander but it was only enough to feed several men. I argued to give it to the seriously injured however few listened. Eventually it was decided that the food would be split among the archers. It was decided that we would continue with the previous plan and an archer would call out any orders appropriately. Retreat was never even in our mind. At this point many men decided to go hunting as quietly as possible. I had set more traps the previous nights and caught a great score. Three more men found our fire, so I fed three more men.

    The next day we fought with the same strategy yet again. Though every warrior''s spirits were dampened by the situation we fought with our all. There were five deaths that day, three archers and two warriors. One of the casualties was our new leader. At the guise of night we retreated once again. We were arguing in our tent, there were three people who wanted to become the new leader. They argued back and forth coming up with no solution. Eventually they figured it out with a fistfight. No one argued.

    The next day hunger was truly, getting to our soldiers. Some layed down behind the tree¡¯s and didn¡¯t yell. When we retreated at nightfall the hunger also started to affect their minds. Many tried to eat bark but the tree¡¯s weren¡¯t suited to it. Some ate random plants or hunted for animals. That night I fed a total of twelve warriors.

    The next day, we walked calmly out behind the tree¡¯s while we trusted the cover of night. The day went the same as many before it, nothing special. However that night people came back at different times.

    The next day on the battlefield I noticed that some of our troops'' corpses were missing. A fear came to me, around me who? Suspicions filled my mind. However, flying arrows caught me back. By now there were hundreds of arrows stuck in the tree¡¯s and ground. Even though we had been collecting the arrows for the archers the enemy overwhelmed us. We retreated in the night and we were relaxed. The war had become repetitive, which relaxed our minds. When we returned many came slowly again. I yelled forcing myself into the leader position. With the support of the dozen warriors I fed, none refused. I told the men the new strategy I had prepared. I could not accept any atrocities from people. I told the men that I would feed them, and not to take the worst option.

    The next day only two dozen men hid behind the trees. Instead of yelling they would quickly show their heads and then hide. Meanwhile all the other warriors would hunt in the woods. This plan turned out pretty well. We got enough food for everyone to scrape by. That was my main priority, the opposite would be truly horrifying.

    The next day, we changed our strategy. We showed no sign of our presence. We all hid behind trees without letting out any more sound than a breath. Without our usual loud presence the enemy became suspicious. Around midday they sent out several men. The second they tried to look around a tree they were quickly dispatched. The arrows continued to rain and we retreated back at night. We had little remaining food so I sent a group of warriors to hunt at night. The hunger grew and our sanity slowly dropped.

    I asked myself the essential question.

    What was our job? Our job was to siege the castle.

    Why were we ordered to siege the castle? To draw their attention.

    How long do we need to draw their attention?

    Until we die?

    Where do we get enough food?

    Who is eating?

    What are they eating?

    My mind slowly lost focus and horror filled my bones. Suspicion of the men around me. Why?

    The next day we did not go to the front and hunted. The animals were hiding, and we only got half of what we needed for the day. Many men complained and morale dropped. I tried to calm the nerves and spoke of war and the cause of our lord. This calmed them down for the most part, but at night some disappeared. Hoping to find something at night, or else¡­

    The next day we all hid behind the trees and waited in complete silence. Once again around midday a dozen heavily armored soldiers were sent out. They were in a heavy formation and would be prepared for an ambush. However we outnumbered them too greatly. They were quickly overwhelmed by dozens of warriors. Their dead bodies lay on the ground quickly forgotten with the next words.

    CHARGE.

    I yelled with fury. I didn¡¯t know anything at that moment. I didn¡¯t know how many would die. I didn¡¯t know how long we would have to wait. I didn¡¯t know how many of the people around me would turn into monsters by then. My knowledge was greatly lacking however I knew one thing, the gates were open. A battlecry sounded throughout all the warriors. We all made a sea of wood above our heads. The sounds of dozens of arrows sinking or bouncing off our shields could not be heard. They tried to close the gate, but we made it first. Five men made it through the gate before it was almost closed. They killed those on the other side and forced open the gate. On the other side of the gate were a dozen warriors waiting in formation. Our sea of men did not hesitate. This was our battle for life. Our entire lives relied on these moments. If you live you would have food and shelter, when you return home glory and fame. Die a warrior, live a hero, only fearing failure. Arrows rained on us from above luckily we still had our shields up. We continued our stampede and clashed with the dozen warriors. Eight men were spent before the enemy lay dead. I quickly ordered our group to split in two. One group would take down the archers, while the other would find the armory and prevent further warriors from equipping. The archers were easily taken down with only two losses. They had little armor and no practice in melee combat. The group protecting the armory easily killed the unequipped men numbering in the tens. We had nearly conquered the castle. Fame had nearly reached our names.

    The inside of the castle was smaller, a small courtyard with dead soldiers. A big door stands before us. The only thing left between ourselves and victory. I ordered the group back in formation, and cautiously opened the door. A giant hallway with six armed guards lay before us. The room broke out into two rooms on each side and one huge door at the end. Our numbers quickly laid waste to the guards. We then split into four groups and each took one of the small rooms. Nothing too important to mention, a kitchen, maid quarters, rooms of the like, filled only with women. We regrouped for the final battle, and slowly opened the door.

    Inside were four dozen equipped soldiers and a fat man hiding behind a well dressed warrior. We immediately ran, giving no readiness to our opponents. Our numbers having been chipped away were slightly less than theirs. I started a battlecry that was picked up by all the warriors. Our voices had an unstoppable rage. Soon the enemy also let out a yell trying to fight back. The initial clash was hard and no side had gained an advantage. One by one both sides began to fall dead. The fight was very even, however the fancily dressed warrior made no move. But then again neither had I. I charged into battle killing several men while making my way through. Hopefully that would turn the battle in our favor, but those thoughts were quickly forgotten once I got past the battle. Now in my mind only the fancily dressed warrior, the enemy lord, and myself existed. I slowly approached the warrior and he drew his weapon, a thin sword. His weapon was weird and looked like a long needle. I decided not to underestimate the enemy warrior. We eventually got into combat distance just a step away from the first round. On closer inspection he had a weird stance. I then knew he would have an unusual fighting style. I raised my shield and sword and dashed forward swinging my sword. The enemy quickly stepped back dodging my blow. I continued swinging however he kept dodging. His simple step back was skilled, practiced many times. I deliberately made a flaw in my strike, he took this opportunity and pierced forward. He combined the thrust with his weird footwork and bursted forward and striked. His speed was almost immediate, as fast as light. If I hadn¡¯t prepared and blocked with my shield I might have lost an arm or worse. I quickly swung again, and he stepped back. I dropped my sword and swung out my spear. He might be faster but I would have the reach. I thrust forward and he moved his upper body away, dodging. I targeted his legs and he jumped out of the way. I had no way to hit him, so I must persevere.

    The battle went on between us back and forth, if he didn¡¯t fight defensively then I might have lost. The turning point of the battle came when I made a mistake. My breath was running low, I swung out and he dodged to the side and thrust at my leg. The wound wasn¡¯t enough to disable the leg, but it definitely wouldn¡¯t be the same. Blood leaked out of my leg and stained my pants, the pain heavy. However I was more focused on not letting him take advantage. He suddenly went on the offensive, his strikes fast as lightning kept coming. I blocked many strikes with my shield and the noise was like a song, with a constant pace. I was able to notice his pace and the fight became easier. I defensively fought and blocked every one of his strikes until he went out of tempo. He stung my arm with his hot iron needle. Blood flowed from my arm too, and the pain doubled. One leg and one arm were harder to move, like a weight was tied to them. He took advantage of my state and stung my other leg. I fell to the ground on my back with a thud. He stood above with his sword to my neck. I was afraid.

    I was not afraid of death, but of failure. My life gone, I would return to innocence. Death and innocence suddenly became connected in my mind. They were not that different from each other. Like a child.

    Why?

    Why me?

    WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO DIE?

    WHY NOT THOSE MONSTERS?

    Those who eat others'' flesh. Those who kill each other for less than a purpose. Those who will take from others merely for their stomach, for their greed.

    I die when those monsters live.

    My life, my friends lives. Gone like sand in the wind. Nobody will know what happened to me or to my friends. We will be truly dead.

    NO

    I came back to my senses. I could not die, I haven¡¯t lived yet. The Warrior with his needle to my neck was the only thing standing in my way. I faster than I ever moved in my life swung both my spear and shield together. He flinched in reaction, but was not fast enough to act. His needle-like sword was caught in between and snapped. Reacting, he quickly drew a dagger and stabbed towards my neck. Fortunately he was not fast enough. I deflected his dagger with my shield and stabbed with a dagger I had prepared. It went through his neck and in seconds he was dead.

    A roar filled the room, there were about twenty warriors left. All hailed from our forces. They had seen our duel and my victory brought glory to all there. I bathed in the glory but felt nothing. I slowly raised to my feet and started to limp. I grabbed my sword and climbed to the corner of the room. Crouching there was a short fat man, the enemy lord. He started crying and asked me to spare him. I grabbed him by the hair and swung my sword. I turned to the crowd of warriors, raised the head high and yelled.

    CHANGE THE FLAGS. THIS PLACE BELONGS TO THE VICTORS.

    Warrior Gunnar¡¯s story was quite entertaining, and held the audience''s attention. Warrior Gunnar¡¯s face did not change the entire time and his words were dull but descriptive. As the story ended, a loud cheer came out through the crowd. Many words of praise were spread, but the Warrior remained unmoved.

    ¡°Many may consider this story glorious¡­ However war is terror. It is more important to learn from my story than to cheer for me.¡± Warrior Gunnar¡¯s statement cooled the crowd''s excitement. Many were disappointed with the cold water thrown over them.

    ¡°War shaves your sanity; you lose yourself to instinct or feeling. It makes you do things you would never do with a sane mind. Hunger is much the same.¡± There were two reactions to Warrior Gunnar¡¯s words. One reaction was one of realization, the other of innocent curiosity.

    ¡°When war shaves off too much and you lose control, you can become a monster. Once you cross that line you are no longer a human. Hunger is much the same.¡± The repetition of his words helped some realize and let it sink deeper into others. In his story some had crossed that line that SIN, hunger, had made them do something inhuman.

    ¡°I can no longer taste anything, the trauma of that ¡®SIN¡¯ still lay within me.¡±

    ¡°Do not let war control you¡­ Do not lose your hearts to glory. Do not give in to terror. Live, win, and return human¡­ Respect human life, some of my comrades'' bodies could not be returned because of that ¡®SIN¡¯. Their families could not honor them... They are dead, they died for us, and what did we give them?¡± Warrior Gunnar¡¯s words resolved around the many tables. This time they were taken seriously. Many faces in deep consideration.

    ¡°All these dead men, their stories don¡¯t belong to them alone. Their stories are the proof of our lives as humans. Remember them with not only your minds, but your hearts.¡± Warrior Gunnar¡¯s words shocked every young boy and old man present. His words held a deep message that they somehow understood.

    ¡°Remember and you will stay human.¡±

 Chapter 3. The Third War.

    A pavilion filled with the cold dark and sprinkled with pits of bright fire. The sky is a trepid dark grey but whether caused by the time or the arduous amount of falling snow was unknown. It was time to huddle in houses or sheds wearing blankets around a fire.

    The pavilion held nearly two hundred men and young boys. The younger faces were excited to hear the tales that were spread.

    The reason for such a gathering is war. The Lord had challenged another foe to battle.

    In this pavilion warriors and heroes would impart their stories to the youth. Their stories filled with glory and claims of fame would excite any young man present. They would soon fight on the battlefield and experience war themselves.

    Groups of young men and old warriors would huddle around the fire¡¯s and drink while listening to tales and legends.

    All of the warriors and children were enjoying themselves greatly. However, one man was different.

    He sat alone at a fire as none had dared to approach him. His gray hair despite his age was not the reason he stood out.

    The man¡¯s eyes were fixed deeply in the flickering fire. Despite the cold he does not seem to bathe in the fire''s warmth or glow. His face indifferent to the world around him.

    Time passes and stories grow repetitive, however the excitement does not die. It was seemingly the end of the gathering, however one warrior had yet to share his tale.

    Whispers fill the crowd, for the most anticipated warrior¡¯s tale was soon to come. A tall man stands and walks over to the listless warrior.

    ¡°Captain Gunnar, it''s your turn.¡± All the heads turn, and joy fills every young man''s face. The gray haired warrior stands and slowly makes his way to the stage. All the while more rumors fill the crowd.

    ¡°It¡¯s the Hero.¡±

    ¡°Have you heard, he led a team of twenty to capture a fully armed castle.¡±

    ¡°They say he even killed a giant.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you know the reason he looks so sad, it¡¯s because he lives on the battlefield.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t heard the stories from the recent war have you? I swear my uncle told me-¡±

    Rumors that were not entirely accurate filled the crowd. The Warrior walks slowly indifferent to such matters. Eventually the Warrior makes his way onto the stage, as he does many young men feel their hearts about to pop from excitement.

    ¡°I am Warrior Gunnar, many call me a hero, however I am no such thing.¡± The words were a bucket of cold water on the fiery crowd. The man in front of them was a hero and all held a great respect for him. However the man himself was not awe inspiring or looked heroic at all. His face, emotionless, was covered in scars.

    Warrior Gunnar took off his jacket and shirt to reveal his upper body. A shock went through the crowd. It was rare to find a part of his muscular upper body that was not scarred.

    Cheers filled the crowd after the initial shock, scars were a warriors pride. The proof of many hard battles.

    ¡°War is not such a simple thing. You fight, You win, You lose. Glory does not come from killing the enemy. Fame does not come from losing. War is a battle for life not fame and glory.¡± The entire crowd was enticed by the Warriors words. Every breath bated in wait of some deeper meaning.

    However, there were few that understood his words. Warrior Gunnar stood still in the cold weather with a steeled discipline. And then he began his tale.

    A gathering similar to this one, few took the words I said to heart. My reputation horrible from my personality.

    Once again we gathered in a line in front of our village''s one mirror. I looked upon my own face, it was emotionless and covered in scars. The appearance I took pride in years ago was deeply obscured.

    When it was time for new warriors to be born many eyes avoided mine. The warriors did not desire for me to tie their warriors tie.

    I gave no care and tied a few without deep motive. Overall it was a happy occasion for the warriors with many cheerful preparations to go to war. My words did not lie upon them.

    It was two months before we made it to the war front. Suspiciously there was no conflict during this time. We had lots of food and were able to sleep well, a good contrast to the previous war.

    We reached the main camp on the battlefront and we were assigned to split into troops. While waiting for assignments I was called to the general¡¯s tent.

    When I walked in I noticed a well dressed man sitting on a big bench. He was old and wearing a long black cloak. Standing behind him was a familiar knight. Nobody else was sitting, even commanders and generals.

    I quickly knelt and greeted the lord. He was satisfied with my manner and allowed me to rise. He told me I would be assigned as a captain of a unit of twenty elite men. Our mission was to sneak behind enemy lines and sabotage their supply.

    I didn¡¯t dare refuse. He then thanked me for my effort in the previous war and dismissed me.

    I then learned from the generals the specifics of my mission. I engraved all the important information into my mind and studied harder.

    I found myself wanting to know what we were fighting for. I asked around and found out that the opposing noble had tried to enslave our people. I was furious with this.

    It was soon after that I would meet my twenty elite warriors. To my surprise they treated me with great respect. No questions to my words and obedience like a dog.

    I decided to treat my men well at least while I could.

    To my surprise they were not extravagant with alcohol or food. They did not indulge in useless pleasures and trained regularly. I got the impression that they were some of the lords best men, and I would be the one to lead them. The lord had expectations for me and I wondered why he would place such a mission upon myself.

    Two weeks later we left the encampment. Our route would take us far east before heading northwest to the enemy. With the experience of our group we were able to move quickly. It was also due to our minimal supplies thus discarding any equipment that was needed for war and not sabotage.

    Three days after we had left the main camp we encountered enemy troops. Because of our low numbers and expertise we were able to go unnoticed. We hid in trees and brush as the enemy unknowingly passed by.

    I observed the enemy. They numbered thirty, a small number unless on a mission similar to our own. This was still our territory portraying their ambitions. Their equipment also suggested espionage or sabotage.

    After they left I decided to ambush them, my men obedient.

    We prepared and moved to surround them at night. We hid in trees with arrows and bushes with knives. Three enemy men split off in the night to relieve themselves. Our skill did not allow their return.

    I waited while trying to find the opportune moment to strike. I eventually heard a yawn from in the camp as a muscular man rose out of a small tent.

    My instincts started to yell at me. I noticed some of the other men feeling it as well.

    I raised my arm receiving the attention of my men and threw it downward toward the small camp. Instantly several arrows flew into guards hitting weak points and killing them near instantly.

    The Muscular Man instantly let out a yell waking the others. I quickly pulled out my own bow and drew an arrow. I shot it at the Muscular Man however he blocked it with a shield.

    Our arrows continued to fly and many enemies were defeated.

    My men first targeted whoever was trying to pick up a bow. This made it nearly impossible for the enemy to fight back.

    Eventually the only enemy left was the muscular man. He had successfully blocked a dozen arrows, evident by their remains on his shield and around his feet. I ordered for more arrows to fly at the same time. He would be unable to block all directions at once.

    The arrows flew and he was hit by an arrow in the leg, arm and two in the back. However it seemed like these arrows did little damage. The Muscular Man charged closer to the group of trees I was in. Beneath our trees were two of my men prepared for combat.

    I had the feeling they would die if encountered by the man. I prepared one last arrow and carefully aimed at his charging body.

    I let the arrow fly and it was going to hit its mark, however at the last second he moved his head out of the way.

    Immediately this man felt more dangerous. In two mere seconds he was already at range of the men.

    Fear welled up inside me, I would not allow my men to die. They were my responsibility, the closest thing to friends I had in a while. My body sprung to action following instinct instead of reason. I thrust myself off the tree downwards, flying too fast to think. My sword prepared before thrust forward faster than an arrow. The Muscular Man noticed my advance and prepared a shield to combat my thrust.

    My force however was too strong and my sword sunk through his shield into his chest. Then the rest of my body crashed into him creating a huge crack sound. It was difficult but I quickly regained my wandering senses.

    Next thing I knew I was sitting against a tree with a warrior looking after me. The Muscular Man lay dead with a dagger in his neck. I let out a deep sigh and told my team to secure the area while recovering supplies.

    Meanwhile I checked my body for injuries. Luckily the Muscular Man had taken most of the impact of the fall and I was left without any broken bones. No other man in my squad was injured, only my superficial injuries were results of the battle.

    The enemy''s supply gave us little we did not already have.

    The battle gave nearly nothing to our squads cause, however I had hoped it was for the better of the entire war.

    We continued east with little battle and none as fierce as the Muscular Man. We eventually got to the point where we had to cross into enemy territory.

    I decided to rest for a day before starting. After all, the time in enemy territory would be many times more stressful.

    We continued cautiously northwest with no trouble, in fact it was too easy. Our team was now within half a day''s reach of enemy troops, as well as the target of our mission.

    I ordered to hide cautiously, we were too close to the enemy. We observed for another day quickly finding our target. We needed to sabotage supplies to give an advantage to our side of the war.

    Our specific target was a set of granaries. A huge amount of food was contained there. If something were to happen to it, the tides of war might just change.

    It turned to night once again and I quickly explained my plan. We headed out quietly over the cover of night. We had to be careful if we got caught we would definitely fail our mission.

    Luckily the huge amount of enemy troops were mainly quartered far away.

    That left about ten guards stationed to defend the granaries.

    Everything was falling into place, many conditions filled that made the mission possible.

    My twenty men slowly and stealthily moved closer.

    The next hurdle, all ten men needed to be killed without alerting anyone.

    Luckily they were stationed at different entrances to each granary.

    My men silently split in pairs and each took a man. I gave the order to execute when ready. Small thunk noises were heard when arrows flew into wooden doors after exiting the necks of guards. Any guards not killed by arrows were quickly rushed and killed with a knife.

    I felt slightly relieved at the success however our job was not over.

    We then dragged the bodies inside and hid them amongst the grain. It would be bad if they were found. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    We set fire to the insides of each granary and ran off to hide.

    If the fires were found too early they could potentially be put out. We hid in a small ditch a little far from the granaries.

    If the fire was successful we could leave quickly and covertly.

    About ten minutes later there were yells and shouts. I checked the granaries and they were almost entirely covered in flames. Impossible to put out without the work of a hundred men.

    I told my team that we were successful and we would hide for another five minutes before leaving.

    The time stretched into a near eternity. Near the end I once again poked my head out to check on the granaries. They were all ablaze, impossible to recover at this point.

    However, something was off. I realized and quickly ordered a retreat. There were too few men around the fire.

    We got out of the ditch and began to run towards the forest.

    Unfortunately, nearly two hundred enemy soldiers were waiting for us. A long line of soldiers with trained arrows pointed at us.

    Retreat was no longer an option. Advancing would mean death.

    With no correct answer I froze. My last bastion of calmness came from the fact that we had completed our mission.

    However, what of the men who had followed my order? What of my responsibility when I promised to lead them? The connections I had built? Their future?

    Suddenly a yell came from the enemy side and dozens of shields came rushing towards us in a trained formation.

    Tall shields blocked anything from attacking us. Soon a perfect wall surrounded us. We were as good as dead. I fell to my knees and despaired. All the battles before had at least a little chance of success or retreat.

    Before I could think further the wall of shields was opened slightly to reveal a man. The man wielded no visible weapon. He wore not armor, but fanciful robes.

    He ordered us to put down our weapons and we could live as prisoners. I walked up to the man with a fire in my eyes. I asked him if he was serious.

    He said he was and his eyes did not disagree. His eyes are fierce but with honor. I could not allow my men to die for nothing.

    I ordered a surrender, my men dropped their weapons begrudgingly. I''m sure all of them would have fought to our last with me. However I could not accept it.

    We were all forced to kneel in a circle and were chained.

    Slowly walked to cells and abandoned. We lay in the darkness separated and shamed. We lived but with what honor?

    It was two days before anything happened. I had gotten literal scraps for food. No communication with others, only rumors.

    I was then dragged to a room with a heavy iron door.

    Inside was an almost pure white marble floor and walls. Only the ceiling was pure black rock.

    In the room were 21 steel chairs. In one of the chairs a bloodied body.

    I recognized it as one of my men. He had too much blood covering him.

    I immediately ran up to him and checked on him. He was still alive just barely breathing.

    I took a deep breath and stared with deep eyes of hatred at the guard who brought me to this room.

    He told me to sit in a specific chair. It was defined in front of the others. I sat begrudgingly and was locked in place with chains.

    I was then left. Silence filled the perfectly isolated room. I could hear no noise outside. It was hard to tell time in the room but eventually the heavy iron door opened again.

    All of my other men were brought in one by one. They kept silent despite the body and were all locked into chairs.

    I told them he was alive but silent otherwise. I was slightly relieved when all twenty of us were gathered, we were all alive. However I knew that what came next would be worse.

    However nothing happened at least for that day.

    I considered how scary this room was.

    First marble floors were ridiculously expensive, probably only the lord had some. I doubted the black rock roof was any cheaper. Next iron chairs, iron wasn¡¯t too expensive but it was crazy to use them as chairs especially during wartime. And the door, it was made out of iron too. Someone had plunged so much money into this room. Not for some type of reception room, but for a torture chamber.

    It was seemingly the next day when we heard the iron door budge open.

    The door made a giant screeching noise as it scratched the floor while opening.

    Then a man dressed in pure white stumbled in. He wore a long robe without any pockets and he carried a small box by his side. The room was lit poorly by a few torches but as soon as he walked in two servant boys lit the rest of them.The way he walked could only be considered monstrous. It looked like he was stumbling, but a closer look showed that each of his limbs moved crazily on their own with no sense of coordination.

    Once the man got close enough you could see his face. He had small whiffs of white hair and his face was splattered with scars.

    He walked right in front of me and said in a screechy voice.

    ¡°My name is Doctor Ridge.¡±

    I did not respond, showing my opposition. He was not interested in anything and glanced off to a blank wall. He pulled out of his box a big juicy turkey leg perfectly cooked. He thrust it in my mouth without hesitation. He said it was okay and not poisoned. I reluctantly ate the turkey leg. I said I wouldn''t tell him anything. He ignored me and moved on to the next person. I was the only one who got a turkey leg, my men got small scraps of old bread.

    I asked him what he wanted. He turned only his face, like an owl, to look at me and replied. ¡°Don''t you already know.¡±

    I assumed he wanted information. What else would make them spare their enemy.

    His last words before leaving were.

    ¡°We start tomorrow.¡±

    The two servants put out most of the lights leaving the room in near darkness. Doctor Ridge then left stumbling with his weird stagger that felt oddly familiar.

    The next day at some point the door screeched open again. The two servant boys ran in and lit the remaining torches. Doctor Ridge stumbled in again. He fed me a turkey leg and my men scraps of bread.

    He screeched.

    ¡°Let''s begin.¡±

    He stood before me and put down the box he carried. Because of my seated position I could not see inside the box. His arm suddenly shot into the box while the rest of his body remained still. His movements were too weird, they were also somehow familiar.

    He pulled out a giant pair of iron pliers. His hand shot out and grabbed my left hand. He used the pliers and tore off one of my fingernails. He placed the pliers in the box and grabbed his next tool, a whip. He whipped me all over my body. Once he seemed satisfied he placed the whip back in the box. The next tool was a thick needle, big enough to be used as a dagger. He then stabbed specific points of my body. Under my chair a small pile of blood started to pool. Doctor Ridge laughed and put the needle back in the box.

    He gave his orders leaving long spaces in between his words.

    I will come each day¡­

    I will pull a nail each day from you¡­

    Once all your nails are gone I will let all of you go¡­

    I will only torture you alone¡­

    Unless¡­

    You give up¡­

    You yell¡­

    Or you pass out¡­

    He gave us a small hope. Likely false.

    He then left the room and the lights were dimmed. Nobody in the room had the courage to talk.

    I only steeled my will.

    Each day he came.

    Each day he gave us food.

    Each day he tortured me and me alone.

    Each day I did not give up.

    Each day I did not yell.

    Each day I did not pass out.

    Only two fingernails left. It was almost over.

    I twitched at the opening of the door. The screeching noise reminded me of the day before it. Doctor Ridge stumbled in with his weird walk, each limb thinking for itself. Doctor Ridge wore a clean new white cloak each day.

    He quickly fed me and my men excited to continue with his fun. He stumbled, careful not to slip on the pool of blood that dyed the white floors red. He then walked around the room admiring the walls splattered with my red.

    He then promptly scattered over to me and like a child happily took a toy from his box.

    He plucked another nail.

    He giggled.

    He whipped me.

    He laughed.

    He stabbed me with needles.

    He chuckled.

    He cut my fingers, hands, arms, and legs.

    He moaned in ecstasy.

    The door left wide open felt so far away.

    A hope that I knew was merely an illusion. An Illusion to make it more painful.

    Dr. Ridge cheerfully walked around the room admiring everything. The walls splattered with drops of malice. The floor, a lake of my pain. Our faces, terrified and full of despair. My face,  nearly dead and cold. He left the room, his white coat dyed red.

    The next day. The screech of the door opening triggered pain. However it would be the last day. I only had one fingernail left. Doctor Ridge stumbled into the room. His legs walking in different directions suddenly, each out of pace with the other. His arms twitching and swaying unnaturally with a box. He quickly fed us and moved on to admiring the room. Each crazy step he took was a sudden movement, unexpected, and shot fear through me.

    He plucked my last fingernail.

    He continued his torture.

    He admired the room.

    It was over. I would no longer be tortured. My men would no longer be trapped.

    However the door was closed and a traumatizing screech filled the room.

    Despair is me.

    The next day the traumatizing screech filled the room again. He stumbled in with a pure white cloak. I asked him why he did not let us go. He laughed and an insane smile filled his face. He ran over to me, his limbs flying in different directions. He pulled off my shoes. My eyes wide.

    ¡°We have another ten nails here don¡¯t we?¡±

    My heart fell.

    He quickly pulled out his pliers. Yanked off a nail.

    My face was truly dead. My eyes mere decorations.

    I sat on that hard cold iron chair. No resistance to the man in front of me.

    After he was done I asked him.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you want information? Why haven¡¯t you asked?¡±

    He replied.

    ¡°Did I say that? I don¡¯t think so?¡±

    He took a glance at the other bloodied man in the room. I realized what he was insinuating.

    I wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed his look.

    After Dr Ridge left we argued. The men wanted to give in, the enemy already having information. I refused, I told them it was all planned by that man. Everything here was in his control. The bloodied man could barely speak, but he muttered that he didn¡¯t say anything.

    The torture continued. Each day it was the same. A regular practice. My right foot had two nails left, my left had two as well.

    That day he stumbled the same as ever. He did not give us any food, and went straight to my nail. The change terrified me, what else would he change. In fact he would change a lot that day. The methods of torture, how long, how painful. I had no way to tell the time but I was sure that he had tortured me for twice as long.

    However something amazing happened. I suddenly could no longer feel pain. My skin did not feel anything. Not touch, warmth or the cold. His torture was now a mere game.

    I could not sleep during the night. My body recalled my past even if I did not want it to. Previous wars filled with terror. Previous wars filled with loss. The time between the war alone. The training so I wouldn¡¯t lose again.

    The next day I could tell my hearing and sight were enhanced greatly. Though very dim I could see small details, blood splatters, scratches in the floor, the rocky black ceiling. I could hear the slight breathing of my comrades, the rustle of chains, and the sound of footsteps outside.

    The door once again screeched open. Doctor Ridge stumbled in each limb moving with a mind of its own. I finally recognized the abnormal movement, it was like a bug twitching. Each of his movements are sudden and unexpected.

    He quickly fed us, however I only got a hard piece of bread this time. It did not change anything. I had no sense of taste. However I knew every action of that man was perfectly calculated. What could this mean?

    He pulled another nail. Two left.

    He tortured me. No Feeling.

    He got bored. Tried something new.

    He left.

    I was perfectly fine with no sense of pain. However my men were afraid. They saw me go through something terrible. Even if I had no sense of pain they didn¡¯t know. Even the bloodied man cringed and cowered during my times of torment.

    Additionally I knew even if I didn¡¯t feel pain my body would break down.

    The next day. The screech with my heightened hearing was even worse. Doctor Ridge did not feed us and went straight to my nail.

    He walked around the room admiring the blood. I dyed the room red. Most of the floor was a lake of my blood.

    The torture continued and I gave no reaction. I held fiercely.

    It was now truly the last day. However, Doctor Drake did not come. You could not tell the time in the chamber. Every second was an eternity, thoughts obscured the time. The wait an eternity of terror.

    Longingly, the doors screeched open for the last time. The two servant boys quickly lit the torches and I was bathed in light once again. Doctor Ridge crawled and twitched his way like a bug over to me.

    No food. He quickly pulls out his pliers and quickly with no remorse pulls out my last toenail. No hesitation in him.

    He continues to torture me. It was quite short, with Doctor Ridge trying to savor my pain. He walks around the room appreciating the art he had made of me.

    I asked him.

    ¡°When are you going to let us out?¡±

    He walked over right to my face.

    ¡°Did I say I was going to let you out.¡±

    I felt a wave of darkness come over me. Luckily I could not feel pain.

    I broke the chains that bound me and thrust my hands to his neck. His face did not change. He looked happy. Slowly I squeezed the life out of the crazy doctor. Near the end he smiled genuinely and let out a tear.

    No sympathy came from me.

    The two servant boys hid in a corner afraid of me. I searched for the keys and were able to find them easily.

    I unlocked my twenty men. The cuffs of the chains still bind my wrists. I was not free yet.

    I ordered the servant boys to lead us out. We cautiously looked around corners and hid behind buildings. We only had this chance to escape. The servant boys correctly led us out, they were too obedient.

    We were able to successfully escape into the forest where I passed out.

    The snow continued to fall throughout Warrior Gunnar''s story. After the story the dead-like glare of the warrior felt more threatening.

    The opinions of the crowd varied. Some disagreed with his decision to surrender in the face of the enemy. Others saw that he completed the mission and came home with all of his men.

    Few felt pity for the torture the warrior had suffered. But many were scared from it.

    Warrior Gunnar showed his scars once again before putting his clothes back on. Proving his story he did not shiver or freeze during the story.

    ¡°War is not about killing, however it¡¯s not about sparing lives.¡± His words echoed the crowd.

    All of the crowd still held deep respect for the warrior. Paying close attention to his words, and trying to decrypt their meaning.

    ¡°I have lost my smell, taste, and touch. All of them had meaning. While it benefited me at the time, or stood with my principals. I have still lost something important. The smell of flowers, the taste of food, the bitterness of the cold, even the sharpness of pain. They all told me I was still alive.¡±

    Some understood his words superficially. A deep meaning still lingering.

    ¡°We as warriors should not live for war. We are people who fight to live.¡± Finally some understood his words, but many were still left in the dark.

    With that Warrior Gunnar went back to staring deep into the fire in front of him.

 Chapter 4. The Fourth War.

    A village has grown to a thriving city. From hundreds to thousands.

    A dark night ignored by the festival and its excitement.

    A pavilion lit and filled with flame and flowers of every color. A decoration to signify a glorious occasion.

    A thousand young men reveling in stories of war and of the colorful sight around them.

    A happy occasion, a festival for blood. The young men here would soon come to take from others.

    A bloody affair known as war that would steal from the lives of all.

    Warriors of older generations stand above the crowd of young men, and share stories to call for fame, glory, and blood.

    On an unadorned bench lay a man. No one would question his gray hair. The man lay face up, and if it wasn¡¯t for the subtle movements of his chest many would think him dead.

    His scarred face was worn and tired. His eyes lazily open but a grayish dead.

    The warrior laying would in usual cases be ignored or shunned at such an occasion. However every warrior, every young man, or even any child would know not to disrespect him. His reputation is fierce and glorious.

    The stories continue long, each of a bragging sort. To claim glory from the head of another. To claim fame from a meaningless battle. Such stories did not interest the gray haired man. He instead talked to a tall man sitting beside him. To an outsider he was not listening but responding anyway.

    Eventually the number of warriors sharing grew too many and the young men did not wish to miss out. A chant grew quickly among the entire pavilion even the older warriors who were passed over joined in the call.

    ¡°GOD. OF. WAR.¡± Repeated indefinitely. A call to a specific man.

    ¡°They¡¯re calling for you.¡± The tall man said.

    ¡°I can still hear.¡± The gray haired man said rudely.

    The gray haired warrior slowly got to his feet. He grabbed a cane and slowly limped, feeling for objects in his way. Once the man was revealed to the crowd, immense cheers filled the entire crowd.

    The man eventually found the stairs leading up to the stage and stood above the crowd.

    ¡°I am Warrior Gunnar, the God of War.¡± The crowd made an ear splitting cheer.

    ¡°Many don¡¯t care for my stories and try to pick out the parts they don¡¯t like. However, those people are not Gods are they?¡± The crowd fell silent. A group of about twenty men yelled out in laughter. Nobody had expected the God of War to be a braggart.

    ¡°War is not just a simple grab for glory. War is where you try to kill me and I try to kill you. Lives hold value, but you don¡¯t gain it from taking others.¡± The man¡¯s words even if not understood had a certain power. He had successfully brainwashed many young men.

    ¡°We try to kill each other, and the reason?¡± Warrior Gunnar asked, but all the men remained silent.

    ¡°The reason we fight wars is not glory, fame, or honor. If you seek such things in war you are no longer a warrior, but a mere rogue.¡± The Warrior¡¯s declaration filled the hearts of many. Though they did not understand what he meant, his words had a certain pull and righteousness to them.

    ¡°Warriors do not fight for glory, fame, or honor. Warriors fight not because we want these things, but because we have things behind our back.¡± The warriors'' words confused nearly all in attendance.

    ¡°To our backs we have our family, our friends, and our people. Because we have these things behind our backs we become warriors. Warriors are here to protect, to put ourselves in between the enemy and our people. That is our job.¡± The loudest cheer, now a battle cry, was heard in the pavilion, likely waking every person in the city.

    ¡°Now, you call me a God¡­ let me tell you the story of how I became one.¡± Another battlecry sounded from a thousand men.

    God of War Gunnar began his legend.

    I was at a meeting similar to this one.

    Many warriors held my words to their hearts. They fought with their lives in mind.

    I was honored during the ceremony of the warrior. However my appearance did not even matter to me anymore. I looked at the old mirror and saw clumps of gray hair and scars which were pierced only by my eyes.

    Young men became warriors in front of my eyes. Kneeling in respect to a knight.

    Every young man looked to me as if asking for the privilege to tie their warriors tie for the first time. However I refused to tie them, I did not wish for one to be above another.

    The city was in a time of growth which made weapons easier to acquire.

    We also had good conditions, the lord has made our land prosperous. Plenty of food and beds allowed for good progress and high morale. All the young warriors trained under me, and none dared to slack off. The difference between earlier generations was huge. But what did the improvement mean?

    On the way to the main battlefront, any battle was handled easily by myself and my men. These twenty men had been with me since the previous war. They were all outstanding, and would be known as heroes.

    We arrived at the main battlefront with little cost in men or supplies. By this time it was getting to a cold part of winter and snow would soon fall.

    Then once again I was ordered to the commander''s tent.

    Inside was the Lord. I greeted him, however he said there was no need for such manners. He greeted me like a friend, but told me I would have another mission.

    I told him that I was his warrior to the end.

    My mission was simple, with my twenty men I was to block the enemy advance in Franville. The few warriors there would also be under my command.

    I wanted to know the cause of this war and the meaning of my battle. An enemy noble had challenged the lord to war. He wanted our land and our prosperity. I knew I could use my life to protect it.

    We immediately set haste on the way to our mission. It took us a week on horseback to arrive at the small town. Here it was already snowing, however the cold was only unknown to myself.

    A great river passes right by the town making it a key position in the war. If the enemy were to take this town or even pass by it they would gain an advantage.

    We were greeted as saviors by all the people in the town. High expectations were upon us hardening our will. A feast too big for the citizens and too small for warriors. We refused to eat more than a small pittance in fear of taking from the people.

    The town held nearly a hundred people, only about a dozen of which were warriors. The rest were women or children.

    I immediately investigated the town, finding out everything I could. The town had stone walls about a man and a half tall. There were two entrances to the town, one facing the river and the other opposite.

    On the big river there is a single bridge six men wide. The enemies would surely come from the bridge; the river was impossible to pass otherwise without any watercraft.

    For a week we continued fortifying our position. I made the call that we would defend at the bridge. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    The bridge was a good choke point, and the city wall was not tall enough to give a huge advantage.

    We made fortifications on the bridge and set out a scout to search the area.

    We were low on food, but with enough scraping by, we would be able to hold out longer.

    Another week passed when we first got the sign of our enemy. A dozen horseback men.

    The enemy likely underestimated the defense or were afraid of bringing attention to this area.

    Sending so few warriors made it easy to kill them.

    We waited till they got on the bridge, where they were tightly packed. Then all at once a dozen arrows strike their opponents. A dozen loud thuds followed by a dozen horses running rampant.

    We calmed the horses and brought them to the town.

    We buried the bodies after taking anything of worth. Respect still belonging to them.

    The next group were three dozen infantry warriors. They died just as easily.

    Another group of graves buried, belonging to the heavens.

    Another month passed and there were near a hundred graves. We were just scraping by for food. The cold did not affect me however it did my warriors. Stiff joints and a cough held back their performance.

    Still fighting and killing were too easy, the enemies'' lives felt like a waste. I had to give them the respect they deserved.

    I didn¡¯t know that after the next battle I would be known as a god of war and blood.

    The day in question started in the early morning. Snow falling and a bitter chill apparent to all but myself.

    A horn signaled by a scout alerted us to the enemy.

    We all gathered in our positions at our bridge when Handlar the scout of my twenty men approached.

    He informed us of our enemy. Nearly two hundred infantry and fifty cavalry.

    His words caused a drop in morale. However my twenty men were not that weak minded.

    We waited for the enemy¡¯s approach.

    Then we saw the enemy. Too big to count their numbers.

    I ordered my men to fire once they got within range, and to aim for cavalry once they got close enough.

    One thing we had enough of was arrows.

    Once within range arrows flew, however the enemy was too far away to see the exact result.

    The enemy immediately started to charge. Cavalry starting the quickest.

    Arrows flew constantly with my extremely skilled men quickly reloading.

    A minute drew on as the enemy''s charge brought them closer to us.

    The horses were close to us, however that made them easier targets.

    In the end not a single cavalry was able to make it to us. However it seemed we underestimated the enemy''s number. If they numbered only two hundred then each of my men would only need to kill ten. Which would be a possible task with their skill, however when the enemy made it to the bridge their numbers were overwhelming.

    Just with a quick glance I could estimate over a hundred enemies still left. The enemies brought out their short bows and started to fire. Our cover helped but their numbers were too many. We slowly picked down their numbers when possible.

    I was in deep thought on what move to make next. It seemed like the enemy was not too smart with their only option being to charge. However, fighting at the bridge was now disadvantageous. The enemy could spread out along the riverside and fire arrows.

    The town wall would be better at this point.

    I ordered a retreat, all my men went running with shields to their back catching many arrows. The sky was a beautiful red from the sunrise scattered with pieces of glimmering iron.

    I went as well, however when I heard a familiar yelp I turned around.

    Handlar my scout did not have a shield, his back filled with several arrows. He fell to the ground and coughed blood. His chest was no longer moving. Dead. He had died too easily.

    My mind went dark. Thoughts filling my head. Slowly losing my sanity and control.

    My men have been with me since long ago.

    My men supported me even after the war.

    My men helped me escape the terror torture had brought me.

    My men were my responsibility.

    My men were my friends and brothers.

    My men were threatened.

    My man was killed.

    My eyes focused, my ears listening closely.

    I turned back to face a rain of arrows. However my vision seemed to slow them down. I easily dodged the dozen arrows aimed for me. My speed was faster, but I knew I was damaging my body for this.

    I dropped my shield and charged to the enemy with a battlecry heard by the world. My body was moving on its own, my only thought was my objective.

    My feet moved like a blur each step covering massive ground.

    I charged the closest man who died before pulling his sword. The next dozen men tried to attack me, but their attacks were too slow and easily dodged. I picked up a bloody sword and swung in a great circle killing the dozen men.

    Then I held the bridge.

    I killed and killed.

    The bodies piled up and up.

    My mind turned all my thoughts into a single line of bright light. Instinct guided that light into a path that I followed. My speed was faster than any animal I had ever seen. But the deadly part came from the precision and skill of the blades. No hesitation in the blades, they easily cut and changed directions in the air just like they were flying.

    No time to think as I just followed the path of white light.

    I ran into a group much bigger than a dozen. With my sight I could easily weave through their attacks.

    My movements made me think of a dance, each movement extremely precise, that left a line of cut necks in its wake.

    My body moving merely based on instinct moved through flips and spins that would not be possible without a disregard for pain.

    A pile of bodies lay on the bridge and it was hard to find footing on the ground instead of a body. Eventually I gave up on using only normal footing.

    Extremely focused I missed many details.

    The enemies kept coming.

    I effortlessly killed them. Overcoming them with speed akin to a demon.

    When I finally came back to my senses I was on top of a pile of bodies.

    There were about a dozen enemies left and they were all on their knees shaking for a reason other than cold.

    The only enemy not on his knees was a commander. He only looked at me without changing expression, stunned.

    Minutes pass and nothing.

    I slowly became more aware of the scene around me.

    The pile of bodies let out a small steam coming from their hot blood.

    The river was dyed red and dozens of bodies were flowing down the river.

    I was covered in blood and let out the same small steam.

    There were a couple arrows sticking into non vital areas of my back. Cuts all over my body, non life threatening. My limbs would not move easily.

    I saw blood, so much of it, and my blood was no different than the rest.

    .

    How many had I killed? One hundred? Two hundred?

    .

    I took their lives as if they were nothing.

    .

    But this was war, either they die or I do.

    .

    Someone needs to do the killing to protect.

    .

    Did it have to be me?

    .

    Could anybody else have done this?

    .

    They were also fighting. Were they also trying to protect something?

    .

    We each fight for ourselves, can we ever have peace?

    .

    This is the furthest from peace isn¡¯t it?

    .

    Because of me?

    Warrior Gunnar finished his story.

    Many mouths lay open, fazed by the story.

    ¡°Hundreds of men by himself?¡± Many are questioning his story.

    ¡°Impossible right? He must be exaggerating.¡± Many said with weary expressions.

    ¡°It¡¯s all true, we were there.¡± nineteen men stood and dispelled the false rumors.

    Many still stay dazed until a chant goes through the crowd.

    ¡°GOD. OF. WAR.¡± a chant only broken by one man''s speech.

    ¡°ENOUGH, we fight wars to protect our people, not for an enemy''s head. Did you ever think that our enemies are also fighting for their own people?¡± Warrior Gunnar¡¯s words calmed the crowd then questioned it.

    Many fell silent and contemplated his words.

    ¡°Everybody fights for their own and the strongest come out on top. Wouldn¡¯t that mean strength is righteousness.¡± His words once again filled with a strong intent and contrary sway.

    ¡°Wrong. Strength does mean you are right. Righteousness comes from our belief and heart. We can learn through battle that war is not a righteous thing. War makes us fight others for ourselves.¡± His words felt a deep resonance from those in attendance.

    ¡°We know that war is wrong yet we still ask for more. This is not right. We must desire peace otherwise we are rogues. War is a means to peace. If we want war it means that we do not want our peace.¡± A sudden understanding went through the crowd.

    ¡°Every man has a story. Their lives are just as precious as my own. War takes the stories of thousands of men and devours them. If we want war we want to leave others stories to be devoured.¡± Many started to think deeper. The meaning of their actions?

    ¡°However the dead are not truly dead until we forget them. We keep their stories alive and carry them with us in our hearts. That is where courage comes from.¡±

    ¡°Our strength is to protect our righteous hearts, and our righteous hearts are here to protect our people.¡± A thunderous cry left the pavilion.

    ¡°We are warriors of the dead, their legacy passing on for the eternal future.¡±