Yup. You too, Marshal," he says, raising a mug in your direction.
You turn around and leave the men be.
You enter your tent once more. Once again, you need to force yourself to rest. But you know that, despite your exhaustion, it's too early for your body to rest. Instead, you strip away your outer layers and pull the bedroll up to your legs.
Sitting up, you go through your personal belongings, then pull out your shoddy journal.
Sitting up in your bedroll, you flip through the book until you find a blank page.
It's been a while since you last wrote. You press the stick of lead to the sketchbook.
Your thoughts freely flow onto the parchment.
When did Father die? You place the stick to your chin for a few moments, calculating. Almost six months ago, now. Five-and-three-quarters, I think.
It feels strange. Time moves at a strange pace during war. The siege felt like years when I was inside, but looking back, it feels distant. Short. Like it happened in a dream.
I still remember the late summer when I set out with Sobik. It feels a world away, in a world before this war. It feels sort of like when I was in Krorid. I can barely remember life before. It feels so strange and wrong.
Nothing in it feels normal. But I can't stand normal, so maybe that's a blessing. As much as I hate war, I can't stand peace. Those five years after Krorid…
Your hand drifts away. That whole portion of your life, that half-a-decade period, feels like a blur. You can't remember what happened when. All the jobs have blended together into one in your mind.
Tired, you discard your journal to the side, not bothering to finish the passage.
And then you place your head down on your bedroll once again.
No deathly visions dance in your head. No nightmares or horrors to keep you awake.
You seize this rare moment of peace to gain true, uninterrupted rest.
Next
You awake to shouting.
Your body is filled with the exhaustion of a fruitless rest. The faintest glimpse of dawn shines under your tent's entrance.
It swings open. Darin is standing there, catching his breath.
You meet his panicked eyes.
"Up, lad!" he shouts. "The enemy is moving."
"The battle has begun."
Next