TBATE | The Brightest Light and The Darkest Night [Discontinued]

Before Blood is Drawn

||Shultz Fauvim||

The smell of soaked wood and the wet soil crowded my nose as I walk through planks that kept my feet from sinking on the artificial patches of marshland that enveloped Zumir's outskirts.

"General!" Mica turned to salute me as she supervised the water and earth mages who were responsible for making the defenses. 

"At ease," I replied before gazing at the countless mages that were working hard.

"How much land is there left to cover?" I inquired to the lance.

"There is not much left, general." She tersely replied.

"Tell the men to come back from their labor. This is enough for now." I ordered Mica who complied with a bow.

"Men, your work here is done! Retreat to the outpost!" Her voice boomed across the valley making every soldier's head turn towards her.

The infantry slowly began inching their way to the wooden planks that served as pathways, they were all knees-deep as they trudged against the murky and mucky clay.

They were all like snails due to their pace, but once they've heaved themselves up they rushed inside the outpost their feet fully dredged in grime and mud.

"They've earned the day's rest. It's now up to our enemies to strike." I said tucking both of my hands on my back as I stare at the horizon. The sky was tinted with the gold and pink rays of the sunset behind my back while the moon's presence became clear with its white somber glow.

"General, are we truly winning the war?" Mica suddenly asked.

"I don't even know myself," I answered truthfully.

"Tell me, what does winning a war mean to you?" I quizzed.

"It means to defeat the enemy." Her answer was simple.

"While you're right about that, the problem is what counts as defeating the enemy?" This time she didn't answer for a long time.

I could see her eyes ponder and reflect, from the looks of it she was lost in her thoughts.

"Mica, how long were you stuck hiding and killing enemies behind their lines ever since Dicathen was turned upside down?" I asked her another question.

"Eight months." She briefly answered. She used to have a very bubbly personality at the initial stages of the conflict, but ever since Arthur rescued her it was like she was a different person. She still retained her persona, but I always asked myself if she remained as she was before or was trying to.

Mica was thinner now and her hair was poorly cut like a doll being given a haircut by a three-year-old, on her left cheek was a wide scar and her neck had some lacerations. The brightness in her eyes was as dim as dying candlelight, it was understandable why. Arthur even said that she had nightmares due to all of the soldiers that she killed, some of which were children disguised as trained men at arms.

I patted her shoulder causing her to look at me, pulling her out of her stupor.

"I don't want to sugarcoat my answer to the first question. A long-term war won't benefit both sides as such, the fate of this continent lies on a single boy no older than us while our men are outnumbered at least eight to one. If one day we even managed to drive the last Alcryan out of our lands will we ever truly recover?" I stated.

"A pyrrhic victory." She breathed out.

"Indeed it is. But it's not like we have a choice, while we take each step we also bleed ourselves in the process. I have abandoned my hopes of ever getting a normal life after this war ends, if I won't die tomorrow then I will die the following day." I didn't realize I was making the atmosphere heavy for both of us.