<T/W: Blood, violence, gore, heavy, heavy depression, swearing, etc>
Everyone tells you about the horrors of war, but they never truly tell you—how awfully metallic the air is, how enemy and ally alike blur into just another target, how the warmth drains from a body as quickly as the winds change direction. These things remain secrets, only realized and thrust upon you like a cruel surprise at the most vital moment of your life. What is left of it anyways, should you not make it through the day. Maybe that's why it's so unknown, because no one ever survives to tell the tale.
Not even those who make it out alive.
Because although I breathe, I feel as though I am dying. As is the man in front of me, only literally. Something pierced him, the closest person I had to a friend in this wasteland, mere moments ago... had it been his leg or arm, I wouldn't have had to see the fear rising within him, the futile hope in his gray eyes that I'd have to crush, and the stilling breath as his life's force runs out onto my hands. This was certainly not something any doctor or mage could cure. I, and anyone else, could tell from the blood, from the way it rushed out of his chestplate with all the ferocity of a roaring river. It was warm, as hot as whatever a noble who was fortunate enough to not be here must be bathing in, but I felt cold nonetheless. I was frozen.
"Do you want to join him? Because I'll send you to hell along with him."
The captain. A surly, gruff man, fortunate enough to have survived any injury that fell upon him according to the numerous scars that adorned his face, and for the briefest of moments, that fortune made me furious. This could've been him. I would make it him. I wanted to. Maybe in hell, he would see the dead man in front of us and realize the cruelty of his words. But as I moved to swing my sword, the captain—bastard that he is—reminded me of my responsibility, something I never wanted.
"Are you the child of prophecy or a fucking babe? Go and slay the damn thing before I find your charred corpse along with the rest of my men."
"... Yes, captain." If the way I gritted my teeth and forced the words out was apparent, the captain said nothing, instead leaving me one last moment alone with my friend's body. Not long had passed since he was struck down, it certainly didn't feel like a long time, but he was gone. Paid no attention to during his last moments and treated like another necessary sacrifice in war. And according to some cursed prophecy, it was my job, my destiny to make his sacrifice worth it.
Yes, that's why I was forced to train long hours from birth in wind, rain, or snow. Why I was treated better than most peasants and yet so much worse at the same time. Why my hands bled and calloused alone while the other children scrapped their knees and cried to caring parents. Why my days were filled with swordsmanship from sunrise to moonrise, and why I was now dragging my blade along the battlefield towards one ferocious dragon, swinging and slashing at anything that stood in my way.
And to be honest, the dragon was nothing more than child's play—a foe I felt even the newest squire could defeat. For despite all its glistening, razor-sharp teeth, sturdy scales, beady eyes, and fearsome fire-breathing, I struck it down swiftly and easily. A loud roar escaped its lips, a sound that paused the battlefield and grabbed the attention of every soldier on the field—it was the signaling of the beginning of the end, of the dragon's end, but to me, it was so... fake. Like it knew this was it's destiny, something it couldn't avoid as much as I couldn't avoid it.
...And maybe that's why that battle still haunts me to this day. Why it plagues my dreams every night and stains my every waking moment. Because even something as strong as a dragon is relegated to fate, to a life dictated by others like a kite with no way out of a hurricane. At least it was blessed enough to die that day, having fulfilled its purpose. What about me? What am I supposed to do now that fate has used and thrown me away? Did it think all the riches and gold in the world would satiate me, give me purpose?
I... I don't know anymore. The kingdom sings my praises, children reenact my journey, and we live a life of peace where no man, woman, or child will ever have to experience suffering. They are all living happily ever after, from now till the end of the time.
I should be happy.
I want to be happy
I am happy.
But this is not life, not living. This is not my life. And I can never return back to when it was.
