How can it be? I still believe, something is out there."
Character: Dorian Ardelan
Holding tightly onto the saddle ropes of the horse I rode with the rest of the cavalry, I was already beginning to feel the peeling red skin of my dusted fingers. Holding onto it as if I would slip and die had I let go. Enemy was spotted rallying a mass troop from eight o'clock, marching our way. Through the mud splashing across our fields of vision, the Regalian army made their way through the field, spears being drawn, cries of battle echoing through the vast lands. Ah, Rivellia, I thought to myself. Never had I thought I'd be riding through the Old Rivergrand in a state of war, likely to lose my head in the process of it. I held my spear up into the air, giving a rough lift of my shield and began to pace my horse towards the approaching enemy. The two sides were about to collide, and as the brief seconds flew past, men were already soaring through the skies like free birds, their arms, legs and heads hacked off, screams echoing through the fields and the sounds of spears clashing and blades being drawn deafening the ears of the combatants.
Delivering a timely jab of my spear, I felt the blade rip through the ribcage of a Masaya soldier and exit through his back, feeling the protruding flesh explode into bits of meat as I thrusted the length of the spear along the chest cavity and made my exit with a sideway motion of the grip, hacking off the man into a split two before I found myself quickly ramming a shield against a blow coming my way. The head of a spear hacked through my shield, inches away from cutting into my face as I yanked at the reins of my horse and shifted my weight against the Masaya, sending a forceful bash of the damaged shield on the man and sending him into the muddy floor, leaving him to be run over by hordes of horses until he looked less and less of a figure.
A moments confidence took over me as dust covered my vision and clouds of high blood pressure blinded my foresight, I rode through the horde, efforting myself into an excellent aim of my spear in a very attempt to ram the blade through the skull of an approaching Masaya, only to find my moments confidence torn into bits as I began flying off my horse and fell face first against the mud, rolling along the field and feeling my armour bend out of shape in numerous locations. Most of the horde already stormed into various spots of the Rivellia fields at this point. I gather myself up onto my knees, only to find a sword being lowered down on me. I retaliate by raising my gauntlet against the sharp side of the blade, a brief clash and a spark of steel, and though the sword leaves a gap in the armour, I manage to backhand the blade into a different direction. Soon as I draw a breath and aim to throw myself off to my side, I am kicked in the gut and get sent rolling like a rag doll. Mud covers my face, weapon falling from my grip. And suddenly, everything is quiet.
I see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. Pitch black of void, I question if I already died. My ears begin to ring and a white screen clouds my vision as if I had been blinded by the sunlight, and my gargling of blood fires me back into my senses as I find a pair of hands choking the life out of me. Struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive, my eyes twitch rapidly in reaction to the choke as blood fills my mouth. I taste the steel until it fills to the brim, and begins dripping from my mouth like a fountain of red shade. My hands twitching and I can count the bones protruding from the fingers, wrist twisting and reaching to take a grip of a strength earned by the moments adrenaline on the mans shoulder plate, which I successfully tear off of his body. At the final effort of retaliation, I ram the sharp corner of the plate against the face of the man and watch in shock as a vertical opening is sliced across the man who releases my neck and drops to the dirt into my side.
Taking the chance like it had been gifted to me by the spirits of Unionism, I climb my way upon the top of the fallen Masaya and begin rapidly slamming the plate against the face of the man. As he screams, the plate hits him straight in the face, it's thick sharp corner chopping sideways into his open mouth, shutting him up. His eyes look up at me, then involuntarily roll back into his head, and as I yank it out of his face, I strike him in with it as I yell out in agony at the experience of near losing my life, watching as I split open the mans head, his arms flailing at nothing as blood sprays like a fountain in geysers. An unbearable hissing emerges from his skull, places where bone and flesh had disconnected, and I return to my senses as I notice the brain forcing itself out from pressure, pink and glistening through the wounds in his face. His eyes blink uncontrollably as his mouth hangs open in a twisted red-pink jumble of teeth and meat and jawbone, and I begin to realize what I just did to this man out of fear of losing my life. This is what war does to people, I think to myself, surprised at the fact that I feel nothing, no remorse, no nothing at the fact that I may have savagely murdered someones husband, and a childs loving father. In the same moment, I am met with a numbing pain as a blade slices open my back and tears me open, and I fall over, seconds away from losing my grip on life.
I twist on my back in the mud as I stare upon the man who's about to plunge his blade into my heart and finish me off, staring in senseless awe as if I was in presence of the creator itself. The blade strikes, but it doesn't pierce me, my eyes are shut too tight to see what is going on, until I open them to see my military companion Raphael shielding me from the blow at the cost of his own life. There he stands, leaning over me with the blade running through his chest, his blood splashing against the shocked features of my face. I scream in fear of existence, reality and reason, I leap out of my bed in the middle of the night, dropping onto the mattress.
Tears fill in my eyes and my palms come to my face as I sink into the sheets, emotionally terrorized at the fact that I still haven't been able to forget about this.
Tears fill in my eyes and my palms come to my face as I sink into the sheets, emotionally terrorized at the fact that I still haven't been able to forget about this.
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