After the sun had set over a big village they would have a bonfire. The reason for the bonfire, the lord of the region had ordered for another war. At the blazing flame that raised smoke to the dark sky, many old warriors would share their experiences with younger men. Many boys of 13 and older grinned eagerly while listening to the stories of their heroes. Stories of glory and conquest praised the men who made it through. These bonfires would bring many young men, even children to the next battlefield.
After many stories of war from more experienced soldiers A man walks in front of the horde of bloodthirsty children. His face, scruffy and scarred, showed no hint of joy. The man, muscular, looked to be in his prime. Long gray hair despite his age is tied into a warrior's bun. He stood disciplined in front of the many younger faces without shifting foot to foot. The young faces looked especially eager to see this hero's feats of conquest.
“I am Warrior Gunnar. I fought in the war five years ago. I am no hero, but I have my tale to tell you.” His voice was loud but lacked emotion. Unlike the other fighters, he did not brag of his feats or number of enemy heads he slaughtered. The kids hearing nothing of interest let out boos and other sounds of disapproval.
“Though I do not brag, I have gone through a war. All of you green foundlings know nothing.” The man said, still keeping his disciplined demeanor. The jeers of disapproval were lost.
Rumors from some of the other warriors made their way through the crowd.
“They say he never really came back from the war.”
“He should have died back then.”
“He has no respect for us older warriors.”
“But he did get some achievements.” The rumors had sullied Warrior Gunnar’s reputation since the end of the war. Warrior Gunnar only stood in his place like he didn’t hear anything in the first place.
“You only hear the stories of glory and conquest from others. I have come to share my own experience.” Warrior Gunnar had caught everyone's attention. Then Warrior Gunnar started to tell his own story.
I was excited for my first war. I had heard hundreds of stories and dreamed of my own glory. Surrounded by my friends since childhood, we had agreed to claim the enemies stronghold together. We went to prepare our equipment for the war. I was fortunate enough to be able to inherit my fathers armor. Gathering the rest was easy.
Eventually we got to the ceremony of the warrior. There is only one mirror in the village. It was a rite of passage to see yourself in the mirror before war. Even more so one of the lords knights attend and give you your tie. One by one my friends and I look at ourselves in a dirty mirror. We then kneel to the knight and receive our tie. My turn arrives and I see my grinning face staring back at me. I take the precious opportunity to look at my own face. I would call myself handsome, though with suspiciously colored hair. An older warrior ties my hair behind my head. I would soon learn how to tie it myself. I am now a warrior of the lord.
A month later we arrived at a stronghold. We were very wary from long marches and setting camps. However nothing could dampen our spirits. Overall it was good, we had enough food to eat, we were protected from wind and rain, and we had good enough sleeping arrangements, for a war that is. We could only wait for our enemy to come to us. We would take watches and practice with our weapons little by little in our free time. Occasionally an older warrior would sneak us some booze and tell us stories. We still had our pride then.
Another month had passed when we heard the bell signaling an attack. The stronghold was not the best place to defend from. It was stuck in the middle of a plain. However, that gave us good enough advance to know when an attack was coming. We prepared our equipment, and rushed to the front. All of us were foolish and didn’t have to deal with any nerves. When the enemy army approached all the warriors roared together to intimidate them. The enemy general did not take light of this and sent a rain of arrows at us. All of the warriors who had fought before were already prepared and placed their shields above them. However all the new warriors stood without our courage. The rain of arrows sailed closer and then among the thunk of many shields protecting, half of my friends were already dead. My heart stood affright however my instinct took over and scrambled for a shield. Luckily I had been uninjured in the first wave and had a shield by the second. Three of my best friends had died.
Waves of arrows continued to rain down. Our general ordered us to charge out of the stronghold to attack. With my last pride as a warrior I charged out screaming with the other men. We charged into combat fiercely wanting to claim glory over others. The initial impact was in our favor. We quickly overtook their front line. I soon rushed in front of the other warriors in a rage. I swung my sword as quickly as I could. It was blocked by a skilled shieldman. He held a big shield and a long spear. It was finally time for my first combat. The sound of the clash overpowered anything happening. From behind the shield his spear rushed forward. I luckily pushed it out of the way with my sword and attacked from above. He blocked it in time and took a step back. I kept my caution and reaffirmed my surroundings. I looked for points of attack but he was an iron fortress. He thrust his spear forward again however it was in a good position for me so I charged at him. A sudden inspiration came to my head. I jumped in the air and kicked his shield. This made him and the person behind him fall to the ground. I knew I could not lose this opportunity and quickly stabbed them both. Then for the first time, I would see blood flow so quickly. Both of them bled quickly and soon died. I had claimed two enemy heads. I was a true warrior. As these thoughts rushed through my head, another spear hit my lower right side. The armor blocked the point, but the impact hit me back. I was on the ground and the spearman quickly ran to finish me. I didn’t have the time to struggle up so I tried to prepare my sword. He stood above me and kicked the sword from my hand. I was doomed to die after only two enemies claimed. The spearman's eyes were focused, too focused, they overwhelmed me. He raised his spear above my neck. Suddenly a sword had birthed itself from his stomach. I was saved.
The blood dripped from his wound onto my dirtied armor. I had no mind back then, and quickly scrambled to my feet. One of my best friends had saved me. He quickly pulled his sword out of the enemies back. I quickly looked for my sword, but it had been lost. I decided to take the enemy's spear. I had trained little with the spear, however not having a real weapon would be worse. My best friend and I then split to find our next opponents. My next opponent could only be described as a giant. I only made it to his midsection in terms of height. He was equipped with a two handed sword taller than myself. His helm signified a higher status, his head would be a good offering. To take his head would be difficult enough to claim my own glory as a warrior. Our eyes met and in that second I grew up, his eyes were cold, I then knew that war wasn’t a game for glory but a claim for life. He put himself in a guard and ran forward to me. The ground thundered as he ran to me. For some reason perhaps instinct I raised my spear up to his chest. Unfortunately he was an experienced warrior and swatted my spear away. With his other hand he raised the two handed sword with monstrous strength. I knew backing away would not help so instead I ran forward. He swung wide and by some grace I was able to avoid my immediate death. I was too close to the Giant now and he picked me up with one hand. I was trying my best to squirm out of his grasp but to no avail. His grip tightened and I could feel my neck tighten as my blood ran hotter. At this time I abandoned my pride as a warrior.
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I kicked him in his groin but he stood strong. Luckily for me his grip loosened, I took that opportunity to stab his arm with my spare dagger. He dropped me and grasped his wound out of instinct. I thought he might not have been the grand warrior I thought of. He would not be able to focus on the battle in front of him and instead on his injury. I ran as quickly as I could to my spear and prepared for death.
The Giant immediately became more cautious and tied his wound quickly with a skilled hand. By the time I had recovered, so had he. We faced each other again. My head immediately got more focused and my instincts jeered at my body. Tingling sensations filled my arms and legs encouraging movement. I somehow knew what I needed to do. I edged to the Giant's left hand, his range would be greatly reduced with an injured arm. I would need to whittle him down just like the usual wood carvings. I prepared the spear and loosened my tense muscles. I could not overpower him in strength so I would have to be more agile. The Giant also prepared himself for the next clash. My weapon was longer than his, but he had longer arms. We were almost even, I noticed his left arm was limp. If it was unusable the battle would be easier. I kept to his injured side and suddenly thrust forward. I was aiming at his knee, wanting to injure an important place. At the last second the Giant moved and my spear only nicked his leg. I immediately jumped back in fear for reprisal. The Giant expected this and stepped forward with his sword and swung. Fortunately for my life he misjudged the distance with one arm and was unable to kill me. Instead I was thrown several feet and had a pain in my lower left side.
My heart started to scream, I felt my life in danger again. I scrambled to my feet and charged. The Giant saw me coming and prepared his sword. I ran closer and based on my instinct jumped back. The Giant's long sword flew past me and left an opening. Painfully I stopped my backwards motion and thrust my spear forward. I was able to get a good hit on the Giant’s arm. I then rushed back to a safe distance and focused my eyes forward. The Giant stood tall, but his sword was slightly lower than before. His injured arm definitely would affect his sword.
I didn’t even think of my next attack and only knew the same wouldn’t work again. I could not feel my breath or my pain. I only felt the battle and my instinct. The battle was too fast for thought and you could only rely on innate understanding. I once again rushed to him. He once again raised his sword however this time with more difficulty. I charged closer and at last second the Giant hesitated. I used this opportunity to slide down in between the Giant’s legs. I could feel the chain shirt rub and tear at my skin. However the pain was not more important than my life. I quickly spun and pierced my spear through the Giant's knee. A yelp of pain came from the Giant but it was drowned out by the many other yells. The Giant fell forward and spun on his back. It seemed like the giant would not allow his own death so easily. There was a problem on my side. Although the Giant was now limited to the ground I did not have a weapon. My spear still stuck through the enemy’s knee. The only weapon I had was my small dagger used in emergencies. It wouldn’t be possible to use the dagger in such circumstances.
I looked around for a weapon, but the closest was a corpse some tens of feet away. I quickly dashed to the body and grabbed the sword in his hand. Luckily any other warriors were engaged in combat and didn’t have the time to attack me. I ran back to the Giant and noticed he had broken off part of the protruding spear and wrapped a bandage around it. Though not well enough to stand it would bother him less in combat. I didn’t know how to approach him. He still likely had the strength to swat me away. I then noticed some rocks by my feet.
I started to throw rocks at the grounded Giant. Each hit did little but I could tell he was slowly tiring. I had thrown about two dozen rocks and could tell he was tired and mad. I slowly approached him with caution and took to his behind. He could not spin so he laid on his back and prepared his sword. Unfortunately for a number of reasons he could not swing at me. He did not have the strength, the flexibility, and he was injured. Taking advantage of this I swung my sword down on his arm. Though it did not sever it had turned useless. After this I stepped beside his head and swung my sword down.
I picked his huge head up off the ground. I had been victorious, defeated a beast many times my own size. I would have glory and fame. I let out a roar and passed out.
When I woke I was in a medical tent getting treatment. I was told by the doctor that I would live and that we had won the battle. Additionally this had been a major battle of the war and had helped grant the lord victory. I was proud of my battle and dreamed of the glory that would come to my name.
While injured I was allowed back to my troop. I got many cheers when I returned and was complimented as a true warrior. Rumors of me passing out with a Giants head in my hands had spread. I was extremely happy about the rumors as they had spread my fame. I then went to the oldest warrior of the troop and asked about my friends. I wanted to know where they were and what task they were assigned to. That was when the warrior told me that I was the only survivor of the newbies in our troop. Terror filled me, all my friends had died. He then tasked me to clean the battlefield.
What was left of our troop went to clean the battlefield, as far as the eye could see there were corpses everywhere. So much blood. I had not noticed it in battle but blood had a unique smell. We continued with the clean up salvaging any weapons and armor. Another group would come later and bring our side's corpses back to be honored. My heart felt solid while cleaning the corpses. The smell itched at my nose.
One by one I came across the corpses of my best friends. Tears unknowingly flooded my eyes. All the honor I had earned felt worthless. I would much rather have them back than some lousy head. Seeing each of their bloody bodies took part of me. Emotions and memories of each of them filled my head. The smell of their blood had poisoned me. I didn’t want to smell this. I didn’t want this.
Warrior Gunnar had finished telling his story but there were no cheers or screams. Only the crackling of the fire sounded in the night air. Though many of the young children had admired this warrior once they learned of how he claimed a giant's head. The Warrior let out a pressure at the end of his story that did not allow for protest.
“To this day I can no longer smell anything.” Warrior Gunnar Broke the silence. During his entire story he had not moved a finger. He kept his disciplined stance and did not add to the story. Warrior Gunnar’s face had not changed from start to finish. He added no tension or emotion to the story.
“I do not tell you this because I want you to share in my pain. I want you to learn from my experience and not to live for false glory.” Warrior Gunnar’s words had resounded through the audience but it was met with much protest. To these men war was a tradition. All of them had grown up hearing stories of heroes and the battlefield.
“Do not misunderstand, there is glory on the battlefield. I am showing that the glory does not merely come from the enemy's head.” This was once again a statement that disagreed with many people. However this was taken better by the children. Many stared around at each other seeing their friends. Wondering what would happen if they were lost.
“Additionally you must learn from my loss. When I encountered my friends' bodies, I lost my ability to smell. The reason I lost the sense was because I wished with all my being to not have to smell blood again. Even if it meant leaving the battlefield. However, you cannot ignore things because they are bad.” The Warriors' words were once again questioned by all present. Ignoring such things was commonplace amongst warriors and their children.
“If you ignore something because it’s bad. That makes you weak, it means you don’t care. My best friends meant everything to me. If I didn’t cry for them, it would be a betrayal. Were they not worth crying for?” Suddenly the warrior's words made sense to many present. Seeing that some had learned the dead looking Warrior Gunnar let out a sigh.
“The battlefield is a place of death. There are many dead and we don’t know anything about them. Their last moments on the battlefield are likely theirs alone. Their story and their lives belong to them even in death.” Warrior Gunnar had released another questionable statement. However with that the warrior left the spotlight. Leaving all the young men in wonder.