Intuitions of War
Chapter 8: Making a move
'I… am going to end this.' Was the sentence he wanted to utter to himself, but he knew that he shouldn't just raise his hopes, because he wasn't going to end this, at all. In fact, he was planning on just running away again.
So, he answered honestly to himself, as honest as a young boy such as himself could be.
"I… don't know… I don't know anything anymore…." Harper was currently lost, he didn't know what to do, yet he knew what he didn't want to do, which was to fight a war for the wrong reasons.
'Because people forced me? Because the king of Scotland wants me to? Because I just wanted to live? Because there are innocents that the war hasn't killed yet?! Why, why does this keep happening? Wasn't Newgate enough?!' Harper was fed up with it all.
He just wanted to live a life, not live a war. However, it seemed that no matter where he went, he was forced into this war that had nothing to do with him, just so the leaders of these nations could get whatever it is that they want.
'All they're getting is going broke and losing millions of lives…' It all sounded so dumb and simple to Harper, yet this was the reality of the world.
"I'm lazy, don't have muscles, and the lowest of the trash when it comes to effort. Still, I can't act lazy, not have muscles, and be the lowest of the trash in a world with a war going on. I've tried, I've failed, and I tried again here, and I'm going to fail again here." Harper began reasoning with himself, with what he could muster up.
"So to end the war is the only way for me to live life the way I love to. So what I am going to do is to find the nation that I support the most in this war, and I'll help them decimate the rest of the nations." Harper finished, with a decisive note in his voice. Confidence seemed to swell up a bit, but it was easily hidden beneath all the other emotions.
"I'm going back to Britain, and I'm going to try and help it during the war. Whether or not I die, I don't care, as I've said before." With that and a million regrets within his soul, he set out on a journey that would, hopefully, bring the end of the war closer than it currently is.
--- sequence 2 ---
*A day later*
After alternating between jogging and running a lot, Harper was getting closer and closer to where it all began for him, Newgate. He didn't know the results of that battle, as news had probably not arrive in Scotland yet, but he'd know the results soon enough.
When it came to his leg muscles, he was getting pretty fit right now. Still, when it came to his upper body, he was a damned weakling. However, his style didn't revolve around using his upper body, so he was fine.
'I call it style, but the only real fight or issue I've gotten into is with that farmer on the way to Scotland…' Now that he thought about it, he was on the same dirt path that the farmers house was somewhere along.
"Let's try and avoid him this time…" Harper said, and burst out into a jog.
--- sequence 3 ---
"My king, many of the men within Scotland are gathered outside of this building, and are awaiting our commands." It was a dark night, and the lights outside were glowing ever so brightly. It was cloudy, and it seemed to drizzle a little, while thunder rang in the distance.
'What a dark day… fits the dark times.' The king of Scotland thought to himself, while sighing out loud. He stood up, and began walking towards the exit of this building, which was currently just a post on the south side of Glasgow.
He pushed open the door, and walked out onto the elevated platform. It was made out of wood and creaky, just like an executioner's platform, without the noose though.
'Alright, time to do this.' The king thought to himself. People usually had the misconception that kings were always arrogant and pompous, but in reality, even kings could get nervous and worry about things.
"Men of Scotland, warriors of the heart! I've summoned you all here for a purpose, as I'm sure you know! Tonight, we will march into London, and conquer it whole-heartedly!" The king began, putting his emotions and force within the voice leaving his mouth.
However, he definitely did not get the same treatment back.
"Why would you use us like this?!" Someone within the crowd of men below yelled out, garnering the kings attention.
"Yeah, what is the purpose of this?! Aren't we allied with the British?!" Another yelled out, which gained even more attention for the cause.
'Crap, it's already begun…' The king sighed again, which gained the attention of a lot of the crowd. However, it just served to piss them off even more.
"Sighing?! Huh?! Just 'cause you're the king of Scotland, do you think you're my king?!"
"Yeah!"
"I don't want to march on our neighbors!"
As more time passed, more and more people began to rebel against the Scottish crown, and the king was beginning to get nervous.
'What do I do… if we don't march, Germany will make sure to deal with us, but if I do march, the majority of the people in front of me will die… no matter what I do, I'm screwed…' The king was in an extremely tight pinch, and it seemed like no matter what he did, Scotland probably wouldn't survive.
"King, listen to reason! The British have helped us for so long, and are our neighbors! We'll fail and die terribly, you scoundrel!" the hate and mis-understanding for the king was terrible, and the king couldn't even explain why he had to do this.
'If I tell the people the truth of the situation, all our morale and will-power will go down the drain, as they'll also know we're in a pinch…' The king was pinned down, and was just standing on the stand not knowing what to do.
"All of you, shut up!" However, it wasn't as if nobody was on the kings side.
"Yeah, you maggots! The king is absolute, and whatever he does, is for the best!"
"If it wasn't for the king, our country would be in ruins by now!"
One by one, more and more of the military and the staff of the king began rebelling against the people, and the king looked around in awe. He then put his head down, and began tearing up a bit, though he immediately wiped the tears away.
"That's right… I'm not alone, I have people with me." The king began to regain hope, and then he made a decision he knew would have consequences, but he didn't care.
"Men of Scotland! I have listened to reason, and will not force you to march on London! Everyone, head home!" The king yelled, his mind made up.
"You piece of sh- huh?" Someone began to curse at the king, but immediately shut up.
"That's right, you can go home! Be free, I won't force anything on the people of Scotland like this!" The king had decided his morality and right and wrong long ago, and what he was doing was definitely wrong.
"Oh…ok" People began to turn around and head back, though they were still a bit confused.
"My king, what is the meaning of this?!" One of the servants asked the king, who happened to be one of the servants who knew about the Germans and what they were plotting.
"What is the meaning of this? My head is fully intact, the real question is who do you think you are to question me?" The king replied back, and fear was implanted into the servant.
The servant immediately hit the ground, and began begging for forgiveness.
The king sighed again, and gestured for the servant that he was forgiven.
"No matter what I do, Scotland will fail. At the very least, Scotland will go down not as a country that betrayed it's neighbor, but a country who refused to go down while bringing down it's neighbor." The king of Scotland uttered, and began walking away.
'My British neighbors, I wish the best of luck to you.'