With the help of a small dose of morphine, I was able to sleep soundly last night. As the wind grew bitterly cold, somewhere the snowflakes had begun to fall, heavy and dense, like tears shed by the sky.
And yet, we still have to live in these temporary shelters. In the end, the children of this wintry land are accustomed to the icy chill of the gods here. Snow, ice, and cold are no longer a concern.
Last night, the nightmare didn't come. But that dream is like a haunting scar on my mind, plaguing me every waking moment, as if I had been through hell.
The main tower's library, though not spacious, might still be useful.
The heavy wooden door creaked as I gently pushed it. Inside, thousands of old books were piled up, covered in dust, creating a space that was both familiar and strange. Through the veil of frosted glass, sunlight danced on the aged pages, illuminating them with a soft, ethereal glow. Perhaps, within these ancient books, I might find the answers to the questions I seek.
Searching through every old bookshelf, I tried to find any trace of the creature with the devilish eyes. There is a wealth of information about wolves, covering everything from their fur to their behavior. Unfortunately, there are no records of such a specific individual.
Since ancient times, the people of the empire have held the belief that red, being the color of blood and fire, was a sign of misfortune. They were terrified of those with red eyes, believing them to be harbingers of doom and death.
Time flowed like a river, yet the pages of the past remained stagnant, turned over and over without revealing any new truths. As soon as the sun began to set behind the mountains, painting the sky in hues of twilight, and the veil of night began to descend. It was also the time I had to return.
''Is anyone there?''
Out of the blue, a young man's deep, soothing voice echoed from beyond the hut. With a gentle hand, he parted the way, his curious eyes glancing into the interior. A tall figure with piercing golden eyes and wild brown hair. His clothes were stained red with a coppery scent. Eric struggled to keep his balance, each step a painful ordeal as the open wound on his arm continued to bleed.
Exhausted, he staggered into the tent and collapsed heavily into the creaking wooden chair.
"...What happened to you?"
In a daze, I brought my hand to my lips, attempting to mask my weariness. The bright red blood was splattered across the ground, a familiar sight that no longer filled me with fear. Hesitantly, I squinted up at his looming figure.
"...Did you just come back from the battlefield? Just yesterday you were in good health...''
"I am a special forces soldier, life and death are part of the job...This time the plan went awry, but luckily I'm still alive."
Special forces units are elite and clandestine groups, trained rigorously to carry out dangerous and complex missions that require a high level of skill. Known by many names, they are the shadowy figures that haunt the night.
The cotton swab soaked in antiseptic touched his flesh. A guttural moan escaped his lips as he winced, his eyes squeezed shut in agony, his brow furrowed into a mask of pain.
''You look like you've had a long night without sleep.''
''Not really. I had a pretty good sleep last night...thanks to the morphine. Do I still look that bad?''
A sharp pain shot through him as the needle punctured his wound. The thread pulled taut, tearing through his flesh, leaving long, painful red marks.
"It's just...when you first joined the army, you didn't look this bad. Now you look like you're on death's door. But I guess this is just how things are now"
My demanding and unpredictable work schedule has left me utterly exhausted, resulting in significant sleep. My decreased appetite has further compromised my endurance. But maybe it's for the best. Being alone, not bothering anyone.
''Anyway, where have you been today? These are a bunch of new wounds.''
"Under the commander's order, we were to gather in a small group and infiltrate the South. Our mission was to gather intelligence and carry out some special tasks. However, our plan was compromised, and the Dragons struck first. Some of us didn't make it back, but by some miracle, I was lucky enough to return."
"We need better tactics. It feels like they're sending us to certain doom without a care. Like...we're just pawns to be sacrificed..."
''Our odds against these colossal dragons seem insurmountable. Their fiery breath, sharp claws, and armored scales make them formidable foes. Although we have mages capable of slaying them with ice magic, piercing through their hearts, their overwhelming numbers and combat skills give them a significant advantage.''
He is not wrong. Given our current circumstances, a confrontation with the Southern army would be futile. Our limited magical resources and small nation-state pose significant challenges. Perhaps I shouldn't complicate matters.
"...Have you ever seen a colossal wolf with eyes that burned like embers?"
"What's wrong?"
"No, it's just I had this strange dream...about a white wolf with glowing red eyes..."
"I'm not one to believe in superstitions, so I think it was just a coincidence. After all, there's a distinct boundary between the real and the imagined. Or maybe that terrible opium has been playing tricks on your mind''
Obviously. What a nuisance.
"It's done. Please try not to move too much to avoid straining the stitches. It might take a few weeks before we can remove them."
With a mournful exhale, he rose from his seat. My eyes suddenly fell upon his gaunt frame. His clothes were stained with blood and the stench of death. It's real, that war has truly turned us into such ugly creatures, leaving both our bodies and souls irreparably scarred.
In the end, all that kept us going was the desire for freedom.
The moment he turned to leave, a thunderous barrage of explosions suddenly rocked the camp. The ground trembled violently, throwing me off balance as I scrambled to steady myself on the nearest chair.
"Damn it! We're under attack!"
"At this time?!"
"Hurry! Get outside!"
We both dashed out of the tent just in time as a fireball from above consumed the entire small tent.
The scene outside was now chaotic. The shadows of dragons appeared from above, accompanied by terrifying hisses and roars. With a deafening crash, the magical barrier shattered into a million glittering pieces.
Panic seized the camp as soldiers scattered in all directions. Giant arrows, launched from catapults, arced through the air, targeting the descending dragons. A cacophony of metal clashing filled the air as the dragons' riders leapt down, engaging in fierce melee combat with our soldiers. Upon the ramparts, archers strain to pierce the monstrous dragons' sight. Thousands of arrows fly haphazardly.
The sky, once serene, is now a canvas painted with deadly points. Fire and blood, everywhere.
I tried to support Eric, letting him lean on my shoulder. Together, we stumbled across the battlefield with his limping legs. The wound on his arm suddenly ripped open, fresh blood staining the fabric crimson.
"Eric, watch out!"
A fireball, as bright as the sun, aimed straight at where we stood. With a mighty shove, I propelled us away from the inferno. Our bodies skidded across the rugged terrain, leaving trails of crimson.
Stumbled through the haze, the aftermath of the blast ringing in my ears. He was lying there, half-conscious, with his left leg completely broken.
Behind him, a shadowy figure burst from the inferno, charging straight at him. The flickering firelight illuminated his shiny black armor. A sword flashed in his hand, describing a deadly arc through the air.
Seized by panic, my form rippling into a wolf. With the agility of a wild beast, I bounded toward. Launching myself, I rammed into the knight with a terrifying charge, sending him sprawling.
Stumbling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Before him, a small, trembling figure stood between him and the fallen knight. A ferocious growl was directed at the knight.
"Run! Forget about me!"
The thick smoke choking the air, a sea of flames engulfed everything. The knight groaned as he struggled to his feet. His gaze drawn on the sword lying a short distance away. Without a word, we both charged, locked in a fierce struggle.
As his hand closed around the hilt, I lunged. My jaws clamped down on his hand, shattering the armor and piercing deep into his flesh. With a blood-curdling scream, he reeled back. A crushing blow to my face sent me staggering.
In that instant, the sword flashed upward. The blade, thin and deadly, bit into my cheek, a clean, precise cut. Blood poured down my face, leaving a crimson trail.
Like a wild beast, I lunged again. My fangs tore into his flesh, tearing a ragged hole in his face. Blood gushed into my mouth, thick and metallic. He struck back, sending me sprawling. The knight collapsed, cradling his bloody face. One eye was now blind. He roared in agony as blood dripped from his hand onto the ground.
The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, a sickening sensation. As I gazed at the knight, a shiver ran down my spine at the horrifying sight. I had wounded him. Worse, I had blinded him forever.
It's terrifying to think about what war can do to a person. For the first time, I had come so close to ending another's life.
Panting, I glanced back at Eric. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with disbelief. The blood on my fur, once pure black, was now mottled and dirty. I stumbled towards him, blood trickling down my chin.
"Quick! Grab onto me! We have to get out of here!"
He stumbled, clutching me tightly. I staggered forward, his weight dragging me down. With all my strength, I lunged through the flames, towards the gate. The fire raged behind us, like a bloodthirsty demon.
If only we could get over that immense wall, we could escape this hell.
Screams pierced the air, punctuated by the thunderous booms of explosions. The sky was filled with smoke and the smell of destruction.
A living hell had just erupted right before our very eyes.