Grasslands of Kisma, Western Castonia

It was a moonless night. Only the withering smolder of embers provided specks of illumination.

Using a metal rod, Cole pushed the unburned pieces of wood into the smolder in hopes that his source of light would last a little longer.

He should be asleep. He should be resting. He should be. Yet he was here, sitting around the remnants of the bonfire. He would be lying if he said that he was comfortable. It was cold, it was dark and it was lonely.

The sentries were roaming around, but none of them would talk to Cole. Who would talk to weird insomniac anyway?

The last of the embers died and darkness filled his vision. Although the torches of the sentries provided light, it wasn't enough. He hated nights like this. Moonless, starless nights.

Cole allowed his buttocks to slide down from the log. His bottom hit the grassy ground. The grass was cold but at least he could now lean against the log.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. As a soldier, sleeping time was a valuable resource that shouldn't be wasted. But he can't sleep.

Irritated, he kicked the ashes of the bonfire. He lay on his side but this didn't help as well. Maybe he should just return to his tent after all, he thought. But Cole discarded the idea as soon as it entered his mind. His tent companions snore and it will be harder for him to sleep there.

He gave up. If his body won't sleep, then he will not force it. Poor him, he thought. Well, at least tomorrow they will reach Prince Ivan's army and deliver the supplies. After that, they will return to Nirvana. He felt excited thinking about their return. His bed was the only place he could sleep well.

Cole finally felt it. At last he was falling asleep. At long last he could rest.

But shouts. Horrible, despicable, awful shouts pulled him from his sleep. He opened his eyes and saw that the camp was awake. The torches were lit and the soldiers were running around. He was dumbfounded until he realized that only one thing could cause such a sight in the middle of the night – an attack.

Cole's awareness returned and he stood up at once. The full scene was revealed to him. People were indeed running around. The camp was in disorder. People on horseback were fighting their side. And they were losing, horribly. The horsemen were fast. They would appear out of nowhere and then strike their unsuspecting victims.

Cole reached for his sword, but he found it was absent from his waist. He remembered that he left all of his weapons inside the tent. He suddenly became aware of the danger he was facing. He felt afraid. He could die!

He crouched and ran towards the tent. Luckily, it was near the bonfire. He put strength into his legs and he was able to reach the tent in no time. All of his tent companions were gone. Luckily, he found his sword immediately and grabbed it.

He went out of the tent and surveyed the surrounding. It was still the same. The fighting was harsh and the enemies were fast. He was about to join the battle when he remembered about his armor. It may be because of stupidity or he was just anxious, but Cole forgot about his armor.

He was about to go back to the tent when a horseman appeared out of nowhere. The man swung his sword towards him. Cole parried the blow with his own sword and a strong vibration travelled from the sword to his shoulder. It was painful and his arm became numb.

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But Cole didn't waste time. He was at a disadvantage. His enemy was on horseback and was wearing a full set of chainmail armor with gambeson underneath. Cole was on foot without armor. Logic dictates that Cole would lose.

He wanted to run. He will most likely die if he stayed. But running against a man on horseback? What a foolish thing to do. If he ran, then the man would just strike him from behind.

So he stayed. He planted his feet on the grass and adjusted his form. He will fight. At least fighting would give him a chance to live. He was shaking but he will fight.

The man charged again. He aimed his sword towards Cole's head. Cole swallowed his saliva. Seeing a fully-armored man on horseback charging at full speed towards him deprived Cole of his courage. His knees were shaking. His whole body was shaking. His doom was just a few moments away and it will come in the form of a horseman's sword!

But before their clash happened, a horn sounded. And then a very strange thing happened. The horseman terminated his charge and looked at the direction of the horn. He turned his horse around and left Cole.

What happened didn't make sense. The man was just moment away from removing Cole's head from his body and yet he backed away.

Cole looked around. It seems his comrades also experienced the same. All of the horsemen were gone. They vanished as suddenly as they appeared. It was like nothing happened at all. Yes there were some dead bodies and the whole camp was now in chaos, but the enemies were nowhere to be found.

But this was not the time to be idle. Their enemies could return any time and they needed to act fast. A formation would be a good start.

He ran towards his comrades.

"Form a square! Formations! Quick!" he shouted.

Even though Cole wasn't an officer, the men listened to him. In less than a minute, they were able to form a crude square. Their formation was probably not enough to stop the onslaught. Cole could imagine the horsemen tearing through their formation like a sword through a fabric. Even though the casualties they suffered weren't that severe, they would still lose.

Nevertheless, all of them still hoped for a miracle. Such was the thought of men facing imminent doom. It was unreasonable for them to hope for salvation. They were surrounded by a well-trained cavalry unit that outnumbered and outmatched them.

There was nowhere to hide or run.

But they still hoped. They held on to an unreasonable hope that somehow they will survive the night. It was foolish and silly for dying men to dream for a tomorrow. They did anyway.

"Surrender" A calming voice sounded from the darkness. The voice was firm like a rock but mellow like a tranquil ocean.

"Surrender now and I will give you mercy. Continue your resistance and I will give you death. Make your choice." The voice continued.

Cole and his comrades looked at each other. Part of them wanted to surrender. Fighting was suicidal anyway. But they can't trust their enemies. Dropping their weapons would mean that their enemies could just charge without worrying about casualties.

"Who are you and why should we trust your words?" The soldier beside Cole shouted.

The others agreed with the question and the camp was filled with a ruckus. All of them demanded reason from the voice.

As answer, the enemies lit their torches. In the darkness, multiple fires were born one after another. After the last torch was lit, Cole shuddered.

There were more than a thousand of them. Too many to face and impossible to defeat. The message was clear. Cole and his comrades had no choice but to trust them.

The enemies moved. The clinking of their armor filled the air with an uncertain vibe. They were getting closer. Cole's hand became sweaty and the sword was slipping from his grasp. He wanted to be strong, but it was hard to remain strong when facing such a show of force.

The enemies were so close now that the face of the man at the very front can now be seen. Cole heard gasps from the men behind him. Almost all soldiers know that face.

Cole also recognized the man. He was a legend among the soldiers, a figure of fear and respect. He was their enemy, yet he was also their savior.

The crown on top of the man's head was a symbol of power. It was a representation of the man's new identity as King.

Timothy Castonia.

Cole admired Timothy Castonia. He was both sad and afraid when he heard that he will be fighting against King Timothy.

And now they were defeated by King Timothy. Finally, Cole can now stop fighting against the man he admired. Never had defeat become so sweet.

He knew that King Timothy would never go back on his words. They will be treated with respect if they surrender and be given death if they did not.

Cole dropped his sword.

"I choose mercy"