Us Folks

The War Cries

The night is deep. The darkness is shuffling with the air. Stars shine like the blinking eyes of the one among the thousands. The sheer coldness adds to its beauty of it. Yet there is a smell. A feel so faint that it vanished in the life of the darkness. That smell is the presence of blood dripping from the swords of the subdued ones and the wounds of those who yielded. The night was so sound that it persuaded him and his fellows to forget the ruffling drops of the blood spilt. Amid the night, they sleep peacefully after a long week of deaths. How long does he have to sleep on the ground, nostalgic for the arms of Katherine around him all night?

Arthur is a former foot soldier for the Mystic forces of the Southern Empire of the Arch Dynasty. The dynasty swung on a thin threat, that of opium. It consumed half of the nation in its non-lasting rusty hands. The other half was parted between the rebels and the former government of the Arch Dynasty. These were the instincts that led to the decisive battle of Squirrels. The Squirrels were a famous yet amusing land. Enormous grounds covered within thick forests. As the winter came, so did the fires of the war.

As the autumn ended, the leaves fell apart from its trees, and so did the hopes from the hearts of those who bore it. Armies of both ends were standing in the middle of chaos: Brother killing brother, mothers praying for the safety of both. The hearts weep with blood dripping from the eyes. A week has passed since the war began. Both edges of the sword are frustrated and exhausted. Arthur is a young boy in the early stages of becoming a man. What opportunity for proving himself a man that could be brighter than the deadliest war ever recorded in the history of humans? A week and thousands of lives have been lost. One should call it the war of humanity and royalty rather than the war of rebels and the government.

Waiting for the morning horns, he wakes. The freezing night turned them into stones, to be human again and thrust for warmth made his hand strive deep in his pocket where he found comfort. With it was the letter (THE LETTER) he had since the training began.

It says

"Though wait for the winter with splashing conjuring emotions, tired of the heat in the dazzling windy mood. Those overwhelming motionless tides of suckling blonde feelings keep me warm for a reason so strong that the withering flames of the exhausting breathless words cannot dominate it. Yet here are those little cuddling newborn faces in my heart who waits for the gentle cold touch of the humble death, which does nothing but end the miseries of life. My heart waits for you."

These were the words she erected to him the last time they met. With this, the shouts start spreading far and wide in the field. The emergency whistle blows, and the soldiers overbalance the ground. Arthur runs with his fellows in a line to be face to face with their deaths, but fear can be seen in the eyes of none. By now, it doesn't even matter if they live or die. Bullets fly in the air splashing the bones of the red army, but the chauvinism is still as the closed eyes of a dead carcass, not moving down nor closing in the vehement situation. Captain Jack yells to all for a full-scale charge in an open-pitched battle. Bodies fall as the line proceeds to leave a significant impact on the weakest of the souls. Forward! Forward! Yells the Lieutenant. Tranquillized by the continuous shouting on both sides, Arthur looks around for a way out but is forced to push up the inclination occupied by the Rebellion platoon. Submachine guns filled the air with rogue blood embellished by grenades.

Suddenly a shell fell right into the legs of Footman Arthur and struck the lieutenant, slicing his chest open, blood thrusting from his veins like a river from an ocean coagulated by rocks. Arthur fell on his knees, numbed by the blast, dazzled to see his fellows lost their nerve in his forepart, never to be brought to life again. His comrades in arms lying dead with whom he drank last night before the memories of Katherine tormented him in his rest. As he recovered from the calamity in a split second, he felt a blow to the right side of his chest. Sudden pain struck him down to the ground. Kelvin, his men at arms out-cried, "Mediccccccccc Mediccccccccc Arthur is shot". His eyes fade away as the light vanish eventually from a dying candle