The Crescent Ridge
This little story is basically a way of telling a familiar story, namely the Civil War in a different setting which is a fantasy world.
Prologue
Dear Mother,
As I write to you today, I write to you as the Captain Commander of the Eighth Division of the Avorician Legion of New Yasidra. We have marched over many lands to reach this field where I sit writing this letter. This morning as I stood in these fields drinking my morning tea, I could see the enemy. I could see their lines and their defenses clearly. We sit upon the Crescent Ridge of the fields of Danemoor. I remember the songs father would sing to me of these fields. The songs of a lone private in the great battle for our kingdom’s freedom from Galen Braya. That fight so many years ago.
Mother though father left us for the great halls many years ago, his words still echo in my ears.
“As I sit here in the morn,
I can see the coming fate
As I sit here in the morn,
I know death’s hand awaits.
I see the sun in my face
On this early morn
But it shall be in their face
As we fight past that early morn
As the morn turns to night
Our enemy tires
As the morn turns to night
Our soldiers light their fires
As the morn turns to night
I lived to see this night
But in the morn
I have only lived to see another fight….”
Mother the words echo deep in my soul. They have been with me since I left home over three great circles ago, since that morning the king’s men took me from you and my sisters. I was only a young man then but now I speak to you as a commander of over one thousand men. All whom call me sir, all of whom salute, and most of whom are older than I. My place of command came merely as a consequence of fate granting to me a saber and a pistol. Some of my men show “The Touch”, but they are not chosen. I am. The other commanders have seen my actions and have given me their acceptance. Names known throughout our lands. Adicane Trimador of the Fourth Phalanx Legion, Tev Nevek of the First Cavalry, and Minister Jarradin Cole of the Ministers of War Ninth Legion Excelsius all of granted me the Silver Hawk medal. Each time I receive this award for leadership, I feel as if I have never earned it. I have watched my brothers in battle fall time and time again. Their sacrifice more than mine. Their wisdom far exceeding mine, but they die and I live. I have trouble reconciling this with myself. I have trouble coming to grips with their fates.
Forgive me mother, I have told you so much but not told you of the things since I last sent you a letter. My last letter was only a few moons after I was taken from home. Since then the world and even more so my home land has become a different beast than I ever imagined. Out here, you come to power when the others around you fall. As my first commander told me, “We are to win everyday, and to live is to Win. So remember only to live through the day, and you shall have won.” Is words never rang more true then the days in the Valley of Marqus………..
****************
The fourth unit of the Eight Division was given the high walls of the northern valley for their retreat point. Many soldiers mumbled of their doom for no one could scale those walls if they were to get away. Willem Normind looked upon his fellow soldiers. He had seen little battle in his first few months. What he had seen was of no consequence. Mere skirmishes in the great scheme of this civil war in his homeland. Yet, the bloodshed in this valley wound be spoken of as a failure in command. For the one thousand Avorician loyalist stood no chance against the ten thousand strong traitor soldiers of the Collective of Rogue States. These soldiers did not see themselves as traitors nor did many Avoricians, but today on this field they were the enemy. The would as soon kill an Avorician as kill a Black Gore of the northern forest or so they were told. For only a bodyguard of lies could protect the Avorician truth of equality amongst men. Today the blood would flow and this war would plunge the kingdom deep into peril.
Today Willem Normind would taste battle and understand power in a simple soldier.
Prologue
Dear Mother,
As I write to you today, I write to you as the Captain Commander of the Eighth Division of the Avorician Legion of New Yasidra. We have marched over many lands to reach this field where I sit writing this letter. This morning as I stood in these fields drinking my morning tea, I could see the enemy. I could see their lines and their defenses clearly. We sit upon the Crescent Ridge of the fields of Danemoor. I remember the songs father would sing to me of these fields. The songs of a lone private in the great battle for our kingdom’s freedom from Galen Braya. That fight so many years ago.
Mother though father left us for the great halls many years ago, his words still echo in my ears.
“As I sit here in the morn,
I can see the coming fate
As I sit here in the morn,
I know death’s hand awaits.
I see the sun in my face
On this early morn
But it shall be in their face
As we fight past that early morn
As the morn turns to night
Our enemy tires
As the morn turns to night
Our soldiers light their fires
As the morn turns to night
I lived to see this night
But in the morn
I have only lived to see another fight….”
Mother the words echo deep in my soul. They have been with me since I left home over three great circles ago, since that morning the king’s men took me from you and my sisters. I was only a young man then but now I speak to you as a commander of over one thousand men. All whom call me sir, all of whom salute, and most of whom are older than I. My place of command came merely as a consequence of fate granting to me a saber and a pistol. Some of my men show “The Touch”, but they are not chosen. I am. The other commanders have seen my actions and have given me their acceptance. Names known throughout our lands. Adicane Trimador of the Fourth Phalanx Legion, Tev Nevek of the First Cavalry, and Minister Jarradin Cole of the Ministers of War Ninth Legion Excelsius all of granted me the Silver Hawk medal. Each time I receive this award for leadership, I feel as if I have never earned it. I have watched my brothers in battle fall time and time again. Their sacrifice more than mine. Their wisdom far exceeding mine, but they die and I live. I have trouble reconciling this with myself. I have trouble coming to grips with their fates.
Forgive me mother, I have told you so much but not told you of the things since I last sent you a letter. My last letter was only a few moons after I was taken from home. Since then the world and even more so my home land has become a different beast than I ever imagined. Out here, you come to power when the others around you fall. As my first commander told me, “We are to win everyday, and to live is to Win. So remember only to live through the day, and you shall have won.” Is words never rang more true then the days in the Valley of Marqus………..
****************
The fourth unit of the Eight Division was given the high walls of the northern valley for their retreat point. Many soldiers mumbled of their doom for no one could scale those walls if they were to get away. Willem Normind looked upon his fellow soldiers. He had seen little battle in his first few months. What he had seen was of no consequence. Mere skirmishes in the great scheme of this civil war in his homeland. Yet, the bloodshed in this valley wound be spoken of as a failure in command. For the one thousand Avorician loyalist stood no chance against the ten thousand strong traitor soldiers of the Collective of Rogue States. These soldiers did not see themselves as traitors nor did many Avoricians, but today on this field they were the enemy. The would as soon kill an Avorician as kill a Black Gore of the northern forest or so they were told. For only a bodyguard of lies could protect the Avorician truth of equality amongst men. Today the blood would flow and this war would plunge the kingdom deep into peril.
Today Willem Normind would taste battle and understand power in a simple soldier.
posted by Cade at
9:34 PM
2 Comments
