Night fell, and save for some distant explosions, all that could be heard was the crackling of large funeral pyre. Smoke and light, blotting out the stars above. The scent of burning flesh filled the air. On both sides, elves were busy saying their last farewells to friends, brothers in arms and even wives or husbands. The prisoners were given time to remember their dead, and it seemed strange that once bitter enemies could grieve together. This went on even as the last of the dead from the flanking attacks were brought in. She had so far seen nothing of Siravin, which made her uneasy. He had not come in along with the other soldiers, and she had made certain that he was not amongst the dead.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up like he always does.” Siah’s voice eased her worry a little, but did little to prevent her from going over to the provisional aid station to look again.
As she approached, the smell of burning flesh was gradually blotted out by the smell of blood. Loud intermittent screaming and the disturbing noise of flesh and bone being sawn over. The wounded groaned and pleaded for water. Some mumbled intermittently about family, while some quietly passed away. Their bodies carried out towards the roaring fires. A fresh batch of wounded were arriving, and she quickly headed over to assist. Amongst the wounded being brought in were a pair of familiar faces.
“Kisando! Arandira!” her shout caught their attention, and a slight smile appeared on both of their lips. As they were set down and healers began their examinations, the extent of their wounds became apparent. They bore marks of beatings and deep gashes in their skin. Some of their wounds were contaminated by dirt.
“I, am happy to see you alive Mariel.” Kisando gestured for her to sit down. “I worried you were lost, since they took you away first.”
“Did you find the children?” Arandira’s voice bore deep concern for the children, even though her own body should be enough for her to concern herself with.
“I did. They’re both fine… And Yvrain’s looking for you.”
Immediately, Kisando turned his head to Arandira, and whispered something to her, which left the female elf deeply unsettled.
“What… What do you mean! He wouldn’t!”
Just then, the tent flap was thrown open, and Yvrain, flanked by two guards stepped inside. He looked around for a short moment, before quickly gesturing everyone to continue with their tasks. Spotting Mariel, he came over.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“So… I suppose this is it huh?” Kisando sighed as Yvrain drew his sword and lowered it at him.
“Uncle… Through the powers vested in me, I hereby arrest you for dereliction of duty, as well as two counts of murder, obstruction of justice, and evading custody. Unfortunately, your penalty has already been determined by royal decree. It is death, by hanging, though should you wish for it, I am empowered to offer you a painless beheading.”
“Well, beheading it is then. Before you do so, you should look around you. This war, has no end, even this victory today is but a spoon from a lake. Rain, or rather, the tears of our kin shall soon fill it anew. Knowing that my death will change nothing, will you still blunt your sword on me?”
“As decreed… I shall carry out the execution properly.” Yvrain’s stoic face belied a deep sense of turmoil exuding from him and straight into the hearts of everyone present. “Do you desire a beheading?”
“Wait. Is he really guilty of all of those charges?” Mariel stepped in. Something within her told her to at least ask, though the charges sounded awful, and foregone.”
“He is.” Yvrain retorted plainly.
“Oh yeah? Why don’t I tell you what happened?”
“Don’t try to worm your way out of this… The nation is at war, martial justice must be maintained….”
“… At any cost. I have failed to give you guidance, and I’m sorry. I promised your parents to watch over you.”
Before Yvrain could make any moves, he managed to pull himself together for long enough to order guards to take Kisando away. Arandira tried to intercede but without assistance, remained immobile.
The guards, followed by Yvrain disappeared out of the medical tent. Mariel followed in short order, but as she left the tent, she bumped into one of the camp followers.
“Careful! These are fragile!” The elven female staggered, the small stack of crates in her hands sliding a little on top of each other.
“I’m sorry!” Mariel immediately apologized.
“Oh, you’re that demonkin… What’s his belt doing around your waist? Hold that thought actually…”
The elf entered the tent and a short while later, reappeared, giving Mariel a scrutinizing look, before asking her to have a seat at a nearby stack of crates.
“I’m Galizanis. I’m the supply quartermistress… That belt... Where did you get it?”
Mariel hurriedly removed the belt and offered it to her. “I was given the belt by a soldier. He told me to seek you out.”
“How did he die?” Galizanis weighed the belt in her hands.
“Slowly. His armour was pierced by many bolts… He bled out.” She answered without thinking.
The elf nodded solemnly. She then began prying open one of the locked pouches. A second later, a small cloth-wrapped item fell out of the pouch.
“That bastard…”
“What is it?”
“Nothing… Thank you for giving me this… I had hoped to get this from him… Nevermind, please keep the utility belt, it really suits you.”
“I’m sorry for your loss… I’ll put it to good use. They should have brought in his corpse, if you want to pay your respects…”
“Later. I’ll find him later… Goodbye.”
“I… See. Bye then.”