This wasn’t supposed to happen. There was no indication that this was anything more than a simple routine, a daily scheduled scouting trip. Shakily I adjusted my grip on the wet hilt. I tried not to think of what made it slick in my hand as my assailant eased into another stance with hardly a flicker of movement. I held my ground; trying to keep his every move within my sight. The wind howled making it hard to hear even the slight squelch of wet leaves being ground into more of a muddy mess. Swift as a snake; the stranger struck and my numbed heavy arms barely made the blade in my hands crash against the other’s blade to stop them from making another slice in my skin. Another strike forced me to back step, slipping on the ground and the bite of his blade nipping my shoulder. I trembled but it was all I could do to hold my own against this superior fighter. I gnashed my teeth together as I realized the swordsman was playing with me. He knew I was no match and wanted to savor his victory! My hands tightened on the blade’s handle as my eyes swam from hot tears and I could only hear the roar of blood pounding through my veins. I didn’t think, I just ran at the figure wavering in front of me and smashed my broadsword repeatedly against his long sword. I felt him strain to push back my attack but I no longer cared about winning or losing this fight.

Anger at being so thoroughly humiliated by this man thrummed through me as I felt his sword snap like a thin twig and then a dull thump as I severed the muscles in his arm. Disgusted, I pushed him off my sword as I threw it to the ground; falling to my knees as I retched the acid from my empty stomach.

“Heh, you’re still just a bloody novice if you get sick from this.” The voice was thick and heavily accented; but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it before. I glanced up at him as I wiped my chin with a shaky hand.

“Who sent you?” I didn’t bother with responding to his observation as I struggled to stand.

He laughed at that. “Why do you think I’ll answer a brat like you?” He waved his hand at my fallen broadsword. “Be done with it, I grow tired of this game.”

“I’m the only hope you have of restoring that arm of yours.” I swayed on my feet but managed to stay standing while I blinked away the tears that continued to blur my vision.

He looked thoughtful, as if he was considering the offer then shook his head. “No one among your scouts can boast of that power. I know, I’ve watched each and every one of you for quite some time.” His voice wavered as he blinked rapidly. His shoulders slumped forward and his breathing became shallower. I stood up straighter and sluggishly lunged towards my sword. I wiped the blade carefully before easing it into the sheath strapped across my back; as I wasn’t tall enough to have it at my waist.

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One step, then another and I didn’t feel myself falling but somehow I was down on my knees. It was just a simple routine mission.. I looked around me. Twelve bodies encircled my two fallen comrades, their hands reaching for each other even in death. They deserved more than this. I stayed there on my knees, unseeing anything but them.

The sun glared into my weary eyes and jolted me into awareness. Blinking, I stood and staggered to the stiff cold bodies lying on the ground, my legs trembling with each step. A sigh escaped my chapped lips as I balked at the task before me. Burying my friends... I couldn’t, I skirted around their bodies as I half-hardheartedly dragged the enemies that they took down together into a grim looking pile. The corpses were waist high by the time I finished and the sun was asleep beneath the horizon; stars winking at me. I fumbled in my pouch for the flint and tinder every scout carried and got to work on burning the dead.. except for my comrades.

The camp was a battlefield; churned mud and blood flowed together, the tents were in need of repair and the stench of burning flesh filled the air. I let the numbness and routine take over as I salvaged what I could. Unopened food packs, the cookware, part of a repair kit but there was no healing kits. The one I found was hardly usable; bottles were broken or cracked; nothing could be saved but I used what little I could on my own wounds. The moon was high and finally I let myself look back at the lovers who were brothers to me.

As gently and caring as I could, I dragged them so that they lay beside one another and though I felt disgusted and ashamed of it; I took their weapons and valuables. I knew they would have done the same for me. I felt the hot tears run down my face but I didn’t bother wiping them away. I didn’t find the shovel among our camp so I had to get a little creative, tying a flat sturdy board to a discarded scabbard and began digging a large grave next to a sapling. I couldn’t tell what kind of tree it was but they loved nature so it only was fitting that I buried them next to a new growth. The grave took at least an hour to finish but as I knelt there in front of the mound; I felt...a little better. As if I could feel their approval of my choices. I bowed my head and for the first time in my life, I prayed.

"Dearest Father, beacon in the dark, I beg you to hear my prayer. Carry these two brightest souls into your Hallowed Halls so they may find Eternal Peace. I beg this of you in your almighty name, O Bringer of Light."