He could taste the blood that lingered in the air, the scent of death stung his sense of smell. It was almost overwhelming, the feeling of sickness swept over him like a wave of plagues.
He didn't ask for this war, he didn't even want to be apart of it but his government had forced all those who were able to participate in it. It was either death or life long imprisonment, it was hard to tell which was worse. He sat among the legions of the dead, the casualties were far to great for him to even begin to comprehend. The bodies became mountains, the blood of the fallen became rivers. Each and every one of these men had families, wives and daughters, sons and brothers. Each had fallen from the plain of the living. The reason couldn't even be bother to be explained by his superiors.
The Warrior stood from his resting place, a fatal wound in his chest that he had yet to succumb to. He gazed around the battlefield, a feeling of immense sadness entered his heart, it felt as if a sharp spear were being thrust forth into his very soul. Each man had fallen to a spear, a sword or axe. Each felt the blade cleave through their body, every memory of their family and every memory not yet made with them passed by like a river rushing across the stones of life. As they had fallen to their knees their only wishes were to see their families once more, or to the very least be able to say goodbye. But no such comforts were made on this field of blood and death, for only here was the word mercy absent from any vocabulary, any form of hope nonexistent.
The Warrior began to walk through the fallen figures, the mountains of corpses and the lands of death. He could feel that very same fate slowly approaching, soon the Grim Reaper was to come for him as well. He wished to know the reason for the slaughter, for the loss and stolen souls of those unable to escape the fate that was before them made by their king. Had they known the reason perhaps there would be no regrets, but in this life this was not the case. A king selfish and greedy wanted only more to fill his hollow chest, nothing more then the pursuit of a man wanting more, more then any man should ever need. This is what the warrior had begun to realize.
Life had always been filled with such life, families spreading such love between one another, the clouds like cotton in the sky and the birds chipping sweet melodies as they flew through the skies of blue.
Life may have not been perfect but it was something worth fighting for, but the greed of another man was not. The selfish desires of a tyrant king was not something anyone should ever have to fight for,
The Warrior could only look down to their faces, fear etched into them like stone, ever fallen victim another sign that there could have been a way to deny this up and coming fate but to no avail they had no choice. This was their fate, this was their destiny, but surely there could have been a way to avoid it?
The skies began to cry, the rain slowly washing away the crimson stains of the earth, but nothing could wash away the images that resided inside the warriors mind. The screams, the pleas, the wrath and anger, the sins and the bloodshed. It was one long nightmare that he could only escape once he too succumbed to the darkness. His trek through these nightmarish lands did not falter, his feet though stumbling did not stop, he was determined to see his family once more if even only for a second.
The skies dark with sadness, the land below covered with the bodies of innocents. This was not how men were meant to live.
As The Warrior walked forth he began to feel faint, he told himself it would only take a little longer till he saw his beautiful wife and child once again. But fate was not on his side.
The Warrior fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as the realization that everything he had fought for amounted to nothing and that everything he should have fought for was no longer in his grasp. He cried out to the heavens, his pain evident as he collapsed to the floor, reaching within his chest-plate he pulled out a small locket.
The locket was a simple heart made of gold, a thin string of metal held it together but that shine that once made him smile now was tainted with innocent blood. Opening the locket he was met with a photo of his wife and daughter, his eyes teared up even more as his vision began to become blurry from loss of blood.
"Let no man make a mistake to this extent as I, had I not fought for man without honor I would have fought for you my beloved." He said as he felt the strength quickly leave his body, dropping the locket onto the stained ground.
"Gods above pray listen to my word, those that have fallen and I as well, please protect our kin. Do not let our ignorance be their downfall as well." He pleaded before the death that had been looming over him had finally taken his soul away.
On this field no one man was left alive, no soul spared in these atrocities. King or country, family or friend, fighting for what you believe in and for the right reason can be a means to an end. Even against an army, those of mortal or monster, one should not let ignorance cloud their judgement.
As the last warrior had fallen on the battlefield an eerie silence covered the landscape, now with these souls gone perhaps a new chance of life could be made.
So wishes The Fallen Warrior.