Chapter 6 – Karla

The desert wind howls as the watchful night closes in and the silent moon awaits its sacrifice. Many lie in the streets dead. The starvation finally snuffing out the fading flame of hope.

I walk out in the streets seeing many who have fallen. The lack of food a started affecting me as well. All I have is a half loaf of bread and some rancid stew. If they attack, we will have no choice but to surrender, and Desert watch will fall. Years of a stalemate will finally end. I watch the horizon hoping I will see Grimm and the others return, but the night drags on. Nothing but the darkness of night and the soft breeze.

The sun slowly creeps into the sky. I can’t bring myself to eat when many around me are starving. The may be how it ends for me. Starving in a sun-bleached ruin.

I think about when I was a girl, living in Stone wall. I used to love poetry. In fact, I would wright some poems. I was always happy to show father, but he spent most of his time in meeting with his advisors, I would wait outside his office for him hours at a time. I doubt my writings were any good, but he would always take the time to read my child scribbles.

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I also remember the day I met Grimm. My father’s meetings were becoming more frequent and lasting for what seemed like days. At first, I just thought of him as a glorified babysitter, but over time we became close. Eventually I began thinking of him as a father figure in some ways. My father continued to grow more distant, but I had Grimm. He taught me how to fish, and even though I found it extremely boring I learned how to play games such as Chess and Pai Sho. Eventually He taught me battle strategy and how to fight, I learned everything I could from him.

“Commander There’s people approaching from the hills!”

“Which direction soldier?”

“The North.” He says.

I pull my weak body from my chair. My stomach growls.

“Are they flying Imperial banners?”

“I’m not sure.” he says.

I snatch the telescope from his hands and raise It to my eye. I look to the northern sand dunes, trying to spot some sort of imperial insignia, or at least a familiar face.

“Sound the alarm.” I say.

“Archers take position!”

I continue to watch the approaching force, trying to spot just something. What’s left of my army can’t fight anymore. They are too weary. As what I can only assume as an enemy approach. I order my men to fire a small warning volley. As the arrows bury themselves into the sand. I finally saw someone raise an Imperial banner, along with an all too familiar face Commander Gilden of Great Lake. I am both disgusted and relived to see his smug face.