The resistence

Chapter 1.

Part 1.

In the small human country of Citadel war had raged on for little over a decade. The war between elves and humans were an ugly business and one that would soon need to be put to an end for both sides.

The elves had been pushing the humans back far into the country. Only a few cities stood between the elves and the capital city, Lavender. A small village had been forced to use half their manpower to try and stop the elves invading in their theater. However, the village had always been small, and the men that had been chosen were sure they wouldn't survive the onslaught that laid before them. One specific soldier however, had always believed that death would be preferable to surrender, and his etching words were what had kept the other men stand to this point, but slowly more and more of them got killed while on reconnaissance. Their dwindled numbers combined with the elves pure raw strength had the last dozen men fear death more than losing their country and freedom.

Part 2.

The fighting around our small village had gone on for weeks. And in all that time I hadn't had a chance to see my family once. I sighed hardly as pictures of my beautiful wife and daughter flashed before my mind. I hadn't originally been given the role of commander, but as our original commander died I ended up with the highest rank. Ever since then all commands had been mine to make. The lives I'd taken took a toll on me. All men I'd known my whole life. Friends with families and loved ones, young lads with their life before them. I made a hard breath. It was time to end this meaningless slaughter, not for the sake of this crumbling country, but for the sake of us, the people.

"You aren't thinking of surrendering again are you, Isdal?" a voice rang out. It was the one of us who still felt driven to our country, one that I'd known since birth, Braén. "You know we can't win this Braén." I said placing my head between my knees, hands on the back of my head. "I keep seeing them, you know. All those who I send to their death. And for what? We've accomplished nothing more than our own slaughter." I said. Tears filled my eyes. "I killed them." I almost cried out. "And they did it with no regret." Braén said with his cold voice. "You know we need to stop those sons of bitches. If not then who's going to remember us and our sacrifice? Who's to defend young Natasha?" he said, given me a look of sore eyes. "Keep my daughter out of this." I snapped at him. "I know full well the consequences of us losing. But that's why I want to surrender. Then we might be able to form some kind of defense for ourselves." I said with a hopeful voice. "You don't even believe that yourself, do you?" Braén asked. "I've got to," were the short answer. "Otherwise, I might just lose myself in self-loathing." I looked in Braén's eyes. The showed nothing but compassion. But it was impossible to decide whether it was for me, his family, or his country.

The shouts of our camp scouts forced us out to the camp perimeters. An elderly, strongly build, blacksmith was the first to meet us. "What's going on, Aldrin?" Braén asked. "Don't you think I'd tell you on sight if I knew, Commander?" Aldrin asked with his hoarse voice. "You know you don't need to be so formal Aldrin." I said. "Always up for a good laugh huh?" he responded with a smirk on his face. Without him around here we would all go insane with fear and sadness. He was a great light for us all. And for that we were all grateful.

On our way to the scouts more of the men had joined us. Jokes had been shared and laughs too. However, none of us ever smiled. We all knew that the only thing that could come out of this would be a great misfortune for us. And if the elves had been spotted, our death.

"What's going on?" I asked as we came within earshot of the nearest scout. Braun, a young agile man with scars all over his arms and face, walked towards us. My heart skipped a beat as he did. "He didn't make it." Braun said with a sad look on his face. Then he handed me an arrow. It was a beautiful arrow, and at any other time we'd taken time to truly appreciate the craftmanship that had gone into making it. But now all we could see were our deaths. The arrow was elven, and had a note strapped on to it. Crein Yorkmanson. Surrender. It read. A new shout tore the silence that had settled upon us apart. "Elves" were the lone word that had been spoken. But the called might as well had said "Death". Because it would have been the exact same thing.