Col. Damien Renzellern, January 1731 City of Ber, Province of Ciresia, Osterian Empire.
Today was a bad day.
Such was my thought as I rubbed the purple ring on my finger.
Finding whatever solace I had from the nightmare I force myself to go through, again and again.
It has been five years, five years of arduous torture, five years filled with nothing but regrets and helplessness.
That same moment repeating itself in my head like a torturous recorder, relentless and agonizing.
The only way I could ever force myself to sleep was the lesser torture of training, the unbearable pain and the crushing force, almost felt therapeutic compared to the harrowing nightmares.
I shake my head away from such dreary thoughts, my mind focused as I realize where I stood, the tent bearing this army's High Command.
I take a deep breath, calming my nerves. The last few days has made me nervous, a foreboding feeling around the upcoming battle.
With a shake, I bury the feeling within me. After all, nervousness would lead to mistakes.
And with what I have planned, there is no room for error. I need to reach the peak to find answers.
So, with such thoughts, I enter with confidence, my expression blank.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
"Colonel Renzellern, Reporting for duty!"
My shout blasted through the tent as I stepped forward, the four men looking back.
"Sit down."
A man replies as my eyes focus to his face before realizing who it was.
A man in his mid-forties, one with a head of black graying hair and purple eyes that bore a great resemblance to hers.
I freeze in place as a memory replays itself in my head.
He was the man who stood beside father, the man who was with him as I stood before the burning inferno and one that helped me bury whatever ash was left.
Confusion explodes within my chest as I stood dumbfounded, only to realize my mistake.
I rushed to my seat as I rein in my emotions, my expression never breaking.
My hand gripped into a fist as questions threaten to spill, and confusion leads to question.
Is he General Weissman?
He notices my turbulent thoughts as he gives a small smile, one that holds all the answer I need.
"Colonel Renzellern, I assume you are aware of the recent reports pertaining to the oncoming Osterian Army."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good, then General Warner will brief you with the plan at hand."
General Weissman looks at a man, one that exuded the stern and stalwart. His blue eyes boring into me before he spoke.
"The plan involves a general offensive. One spearheaded by General Beck."
"You, on the other hand, shall be assigned to General Klein. Spearheading your battalion into enemy fire."
A man then spoke up, "I will provide support for such an endeavor. Though this strategy requires you to strain your magical capabilities."
"Magical capabilities of a caliber unheard of, something that you proclaim to be capable of."
I look at the voice, his brown eyes looking back, one filled with a mixture of interest and contempt
It seems the men before me did not welcome my recent promotion. So, it stands to question, who has the authority to do so?
I take note such notes for later before giving a small bow to the men before me.
"I shall not fail you."
Klein squints his eyes in suspicion.
Though before he could continue, a man spoke up, his red eyes filled with interest and irritation as he inspects my expression, never leaving him a hint.
"Huh? You truly believe that you can defend hundreds of fireballs all by yourself?"
"Yes." I reply, unfazed.
He chuckles at my words for a few seconds before a full-blown laughter rips through.
It took ten seconds for Beck to settle down, only stifled by Weissman's unamused expression. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he spoke,
"Then let us see on the battlefield?"
"Of course, sir. I shall perform with my utmost." I say with a nod.
"Well, I-"
"Great!" General Weissman cuts in, silencing whatever Beck had to say.
He gives a small smile, "It is unfortunate, but we don't have the time, since recent reports show that the oncoming Osterian Army will arrive in an hour and a half."
He looks in my direction, his distinct purple eyes filled with excitement.
"So, it would be best for you to prepare now."
"I see," I stood up before giving a salute, "Then I shall be on my way, Sir."
"Yes, you are dismissed."
Beck grumbles beneath his breath and Warner only continues to look in my direction while Klein watches me like a hawk, watching for any mistakes.
With our conversation done, I exit their tent, escaping the heavy feeling of four pairs of eyes looking at my back, each one a heavy burden.
With their gaze now gone, I take a deep breath.
I breathe in the scent of gunpowder and dirt, leaving me coughing at the side.
Then, with a quick turn, I walked through the dirt path, one built by carriage coming back and forth, bringing with them supplies straight to my regiment.
With my destination clear, I walked with my mind wandering on the recent events, my first encounter with the Fourth Army's Generals.
They were jarring, but expected. It was a proper reaction from the four Major generals.
But it could only mean that my promotion was something out of their hand. Something that they did not desire and added to the fact that the only man that welcomed me was him.
Then General Weissman was the one who insisted on promoting me through the ranks at a pace almost ridiculously reckless.
"What are they planning?" I mutter to myself.
A scene replay itself in my head.
My father standing before a burnt mansion as I cried in despair.
My vision blurred with tears before I looked at him in utter clarity. My unquenchable rage continued as I smell the scent of what little ash remained.
I look to Father for help, only to see his expression remain indifferent.
He was unmoved, unfazed by the great tragedy happening before me.
It filled me with rage at how little he cared, at how he was nowhere to be seen when we needed him the most.
I would have shouted and fought him then and there for his gall to stand before me. Only when everything was over and mother was now gone did he decide to arrive.
A man ran to his side, his face filled with shock as he muttered something unrecognizable.
He glances at me before turning his back, his purple eyes filled with sympathy in that quick moment our eyes met.
His orders then cut in, before a hundred men swarm the surrounding area, soldiers and mages searching for whatever clue they could find.
The only thing that I could do now was bow my head as a dark pit rips any energy I had left. It's over, it's done. Whatever they find wouldn't bring her back.
I'll just need to have them pay.
Such thought spun around my mind as darkness consumed my vision.
I shake away the horrid memory as I continued forth.