Optimistically Cynical: A Short Story Compilation- 1

FLAME

Commander of a thousand, a title not easily won, and so speaks volumes for the possessor of such a title. It is just such a man that I am keeping watch upon, though he does not know as my enchantments shield me from prying eyes and not even the brightest of lights can pierce through my visual shield.

He is living his life just as if everything is well and for the moment anyone would say the same, but my vision is not so limited. I see what is coming and it's not going to be pretty.

A messenger has shown up breaking the peaceful afternoon the commander was to enjoy. He has been summoned to council and he does not know why. I watch as all the events unfold as I have foreseen them.

A horde is moving in from the eastern mountains, a great number who threaten to extinguish this place and everything surrounding it. They scoff, they believe this army comprised of a simple barbarous nation, will be stomped out without any real problem. They'll never know how wrong they are, at least not until it's too late.

They do not know what I know. These barbarians they hold in such contempt, will annihilate the entire region and set it a blaze. They are not here to negotiate and they are not going to stop until they have eliminated all forms of life.

For just as their opponents, they too hold them in contempt and believe good for nothing but slaughter. Their power will be unmatched and they will overrun the entire continent, that is they would have.

I have decided to skip all the unnecessary bits and am now standing before the battlefield. Here the commander stands surmounting his full thousand. They are ready and aching for the bloodshed to come. They have no idea it is their blood that shall feed the earth this day.

The sound for the charge is given and the two factions meet on this destined battlefield where they will play out the roles that the fates have designated. Their weapons clash sending a sound that no clap of thunder could ever hope to emulate let alone surpass. It plays out just as I have seen and before the day is through the barbarians are marching now upon the citadel.

The gore is everywhere and I'm wading knee deep into it, but it is here that I find the commander, amassed with the rest of his men and thanks to my spell presumed dead.

I dispel the enchantment and command him to rise. He can't believe what he has mistaken for fortune. I have allowed all these events to transpire as there is no force upon this Earth that can hope to quell this disaster.

So I have sacrificed all these men so that they may be brought back in a form of greater power. But it is the commander that I require to be alive, as it is necessary for a living soul to anchor the ones that are dead.

And in choosing the man that was their motivation I have further still increased their power. Now it is only left to the commander to lead them once again against the barbarians this time, in victory.

The land has been stripped of its goods and the rest put to the torch. The earth lay blackened never to return to its vibrant self ever again. A view that I would not hide had I the power to do so, as it provides the desired motivation.

I can see the flames rising in his eyes. So wrapped is he in his rage that I believe him to be willing to pay any price to see his revenge come to pass, and I'm not one to gamble lightly.

When we come upon the barbarians they are laying siege to the citadel, while we are to their rear and to their credit, they are only momentarily shocked to see the men they so recently dispatched come back for more.

These savages know no restraint nor fear and plunge head long into battle with us. They however know not the power they are challenging, nor do I believe it would have made a difference.

The fire has returned to their eyes and manifested upon their bodies. They immolate the unfortunate bodies of the invaders as they come in contact. One by one the barbarians fall as their masses and their weapons have no effect.

I watch as they charge headlong one after the other. Never stopping never slowing. This indeed is a force to be reckoned with and I know that without the power I have cultivated I, nor anyone else would stand a chance.

The battle is over. The commander along with his thousands are victorious. And with their victory the reanimated army is no longer necessary. So I remove my enchantment and allow them to revert to their natural deceased state. Leaving the commander alone to ponder over his destiny.

Whereas I, turn my steps toward my home and hopefully, a long rest before I am needed again.