Mangled bodies laid on the field, soldiers formerly filled of life now void of any shred of what made them human. The open fields were once glorious, kids would run free with their dogs, picking at the tulips that grew under the nourishing sun. There was an eerie irony in the beauty of this hill, all that made it wonderful once before made it equally as disturbing now. A cacophony of marching footsteps followed behind his horse as he led the men up the hill. The colt's hooves would crunch over leaves covered in blood, or the limbs of his former comrades that fought bravely. The younger soldiers up at the front line were wavering at the gruesome scene, but the mature veterans spoke up in a loud tone, calming their nerves.

"Steady men! Steady!" The battle hardened Abrarian shouted across the line, "Look the enemy in the eyes when you take their lives!"

The crowd of men erupted in cheers at the rallying command, the cadence of the drummers at the back of the line helped keep morale strong. The drummer kept a strong and steady beat, like a beating heart. But the commander could hear nothing but the sound of his own heart above that horse. The bodies weren't there, neither was the blood, or the men who trusted him with their lives. All he saw was the kids, the nourishing sun, and the tulips.

He snapped out of his delusions when another man stopped his horse's gait besides his own. It was a younger man he's known for a couple of days now, Gillian was his name. A brave boy, a little younger than himself, that worked as the messenger for the right flank after the former messenger died to an arrow. "Commander!"

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Gillian waited until he glanced at him to continue, "The right flank is in position under the ridge of the hill, sir!" He shouted over the sound of the men behind them and the beating drum. "But sir! I'm telling you-" He brought his voice down as low as he could, "This is suicide sir, what you're doing is suicide."

The commander turned his attention to the field once he reached the top of the hill. He heard Gillian, but chose not to respond. The men grew silent when they came to contact with the enemy, the drumming ceased, and the field's stillness was uncanny. The gust of wind blew peacefully through the gory grass, and the stench of death immersed itself into his nostrils. The commander reached over, taking hold of his sword and pulling it out of the scabbard.

Streaks of blood specked his face, and that's when he saw him. He met his eyes from across the field, and Gillian looked from the enemy to his commander. The enemy was surrounded by his army of darkness, disgustingly disfigured beings straight from the depths of hell. The enemy twisted his mouth into a smirk, and it made the commander inhale sharply. Gillian looked at the commander and shockingly asked, "Wait, do you know him?"

Turning to Gillian slowly, and still holding his sword up to the sky, he replied, "Once. Long ago. Or at least I thought I did."

"What was he like?" Gillian asked quietly.

The commander smiled warmly, looking away from Gillian and back at the smirking man. He remembered it all. "He was going to change the world."

As his sword dropped to announce the charge, all he could think about was that day. The kids, the nourishing sun, and the tulips.