"And by casting this torch, I light the beacon for your patron. Waionr, hear me well, for I am here to guide these warriors to you. Their march is at an end. Their duty complete." I chant as I light the pile of pitch I had gathered together on fire. And soon, both sides of the valley lit up into a mighty blaze that roared out into the dark valley.
Waionr would be able to find them now, I had made sure of that. But unlike a normal funeral, I did not stay around for long. I couldn't stay by their side even now. And I was ashamed of that, but I hoped they understood why.
I had failed them and it was because of that, that I could fail no other line. No more cities would fall as a result of my incompetence or my neglect. I would hold on as long as I could. I would work myself to death if I have to in order to ensure that.
So, with a sigh, I began to march back in the direction of Giant's Victory. A long overdue return that I was finally going to fulfil. Yet, as my newfound gear rattled against the earth. I felt uncomfortable.
"This isn't right... Waionr taught us not to loot our brethren... Not to shame them when they could fight no longer..." I whimpered as I stared down at the uniform I had cobbled together from many of the dead men I had found. Yet even as a hand rubbed away at the edges of destroyed mail and other signs of damage. I could not bring it in myself to return to my previous set of attire.
So I could only silently plead for forgiveness as I dragged my sword behind me. And it wasn't long before the warmth of my tremendous pyre disappeared. The cold night swooped in to quickly replace the sensation. And with it I sighed out more of my frustrations as my free hand pinched my brow.
Even after having gone through all of that. To give those men the burial they deserved. I couldn't help but feel ashamed. Because it really was my fault no matter how I saw it.
I didn't stop the guns from striking them nor was I strong enough to halt the Red-Feathers. I had been given an immense responsibility and I chose to run away went things went bad. I swore oaths and enacted them for so long. But, when they were finally strained, I went and hid.
And now I returned to the war wearing looted armour after running from my first real fight in years. I wanted to come back to ensure I died as what I always have been; a Valkinvar. But in order to do so, I went about it unlike one. I was pathetic...
"Just a few days march down this route... And I'll probably find the bodies of the Zaphadren-Valkinvar's army as well..." I sighed miserably before I took one final glance towards the site of my great defeat. And with a final gesture of farewell, with little confidence behind it. I departed into the darkness that lay before me.
Little to no hope within me as I made the trek.