One breath after another. The faded out sounds of combat echo throughout the expansive field, guided by a presence no one seems to acknowledge.
A presence with an aura so frightening you can't help but call out to it in fear that it may also cling to you.
"It's death."
I say aloud unknowingly.
"What was that Nel?"
Said the man beside me, speaking in a worried tone. It was Old man Craggle.
An elderly man with a long, blonde beard, a bald head; and to top it all off, he was a dwarf. A race known for their intricate creations.
"Nothing. It was nothing."
I say in hopes of easing my way out of such an easy subconscious mistake.
I slightly adjusted the set of armor beneath my cloak, wrapping my long cloak around my front.
"It's looking kind of grisly out there ain't it?"
He questioned.
"You could say that."
I responded, my tone somber and melancholic.
Reaching deep into my gear, I pull out a note with a name that reads—
[ DARRIC THE BUTCHER ]
As I scan the field, I bear witness firsthand the cruel, savage nature of man. Men, one after the other, charge ahead, some defending against the assaults up-front with their own, while the others make way for the ones who do. It's disgusting. Men fight, kill, steal, and terrorize; all for the nauseating greed and satisfaction of the ones who order them to do so.
Repulsive.
My mind jumps from one scene to the next; first was a man being impaled by a steel blade, which ultimately ended with the assailant being decapitated by the other guy's squad-mate.
The next scene was a battle-drunken man plowing straight through the enemy frontlines; however, the man's moment of glory was short-lived, as a hailstorm of arrows came raining down on him and the rest of his visibly cowardly squadron.
Guess they didn't take after their captain much.
Lastly, there was a man, or better yet should I say boy, who couldn't have been any older than me, who was eighteen years of age, standing before an enemy's blade.
Shaken and brought to despair by the enemy's menacing display of power. I had thought about helping the boy out, but before I knew it, it was much too late.
One slash and there was another young man's head rolling on the battlefield. Tragic. Murder after murder.
Death after death. This was not the work of God, but the work of the one below.
"Everyone! We shall push on, and seize the enemy territory for ourselves! Do not fear, as they are weak! Ill-spirited vagrants who know nothing but evil! We shall slay them, capture them, and present them to the people of Solim! All in the name of King Arthur, and the greatness of God! Now charge men, and hold no fear for these men shall know their end! Onward!"
A man with a long, gray beard shouts out to all the troops on the field, before quickly charging ahead on horse-back straight through the enemy forces.
I stand there, still in the same position from before, as I then walk over to the body of the young boy from earlier.
A slit throat, with the eyes bulging from their sockets due to the body going into intense shock; a common way for those in this field to meet their untimely end.
Revolting.
I bend down before the lifeless body of the young man, granting him one last affirmation on his journey to the after-life.
"Dear Lord, please receive the spirit of your child before me. And please free him from the pain and struggle of this trial we call mortal life. Amen."
I mutter to the deceased as I close the boy's eyes, and stand to face the ongoing battle right in front of me.
"Nel watch out!"
Yelped Craggle.
"Die you shameless Solim slave!"
I turn my head to see a man covered from head to toe in steel armor screaming out at me, ready to attack at any second now.
Grasping my steel longsword blade hidden beneath my cloak in my left hand with a solid grip, I slash at the man's throat, pushing my cloak aside and sending his head with the rest of the heads amongst the field.
All faster than the blink of an eye. Blood splattered wildly from the man's severed neck, coating my blade in a dark crimson red.
Me, being in this field, the thought of it is sickening. Battle, and conflict are all I've known since birth.
Ingrained in my psyche right next to the act of breathing, eating, and sleeping.
But, none of that matters, not until I reach her. The sole reasoning for my existence, her face nothing but a brilliant light in the fog of my mind.
I know she's waiting for me, somewhere out there. Awaiting my arrival, and awaiting the day I can be deemed worthy of confessing my true feelings once and for all.
Nel….
Nel..
"Nel!"
I snap back to reality to see Old man Craggle cowering in fear. This is what conflict does to the innocent.
Old man Craggle would then stand up straight right beside me, a grumpy expression plastered right all over his face.
"Hey! I know I told you I'd follow you for the rest of the day, but if you pull a stunt like that and zone out again I'm out!"
"Y'a hear me?"
Craggle spoke out angrily, shaking his fist at me.
I simply gazed down at Craggle, my mind still focused on the battlefield.
I shifted my stance, striding forward deeper into the field of slaughter. Craggle following suit.
"Hey! Now where are you going? Don't tell me you're actually going in there?!"
Craggle continued on with his invasive remarks.
Ignoring Craggle's calls for a reason, I begin to rapidly pick up pace, sprinting straight towards the center of the grassy field.
My eyes focused on one thing, and one thing only; Darric, who was my sole reason for even being on this field.
As I plowed through the fields, the sight of a man slaying numerous men on his own, chucking them around with one swipe of his axe as if they were ragdolls.
It was clear that he was a man who took pride in his own sick, twisted homicidal ways. It was him.
I swiftly charged towards his direction, his eyes meeting with mine as I attempted to gain the upper hand.
Right after he had finished massacring the troops of the Solim men, I acted.
As soon as I came within range, I stuck my left leg out, and came to a screeching halt as I sent a slash his way.
A slash that, to my slight surprise, Darric would just barely evade; however not completely as he still suffered noticeable damage in the process.
Scarlet red blood dripped from the open wound, dripping which then turned into an outright leakage as Darric inspected his injury.
"Hm."
The warrior Darric let out.
Darric was a tall, stocky, warrior renowned for his strength and abnormal size.
Although he wasn't much taller than I, it was still spalling just how huge the man was.
He had ruffled short black hair similar to me, and donned a unique set of knight's armor decorated with a multitude of tally-marks engraved into the armor-set.
All representing the amount of warriors, and innocent people he has slayed during his time as a mercenary.
His armor was missing specific pieces such as: a helmet, and other sections like the shoulders, allowing for more fluid movement, and ridding himself of unneeded restriction.
Darric also wielded a long double-sided battle axe with an elongated hilt.
Of which he gripped tighter and tighter as he realized just how easily I could have sent his head flying if he were even a millisecond too late.
His red irises were empty, soul-less even. Something which intimidated the many men that have stood before him.
"Interesting. You are the first to grant me such pain in years. I commend you, no named warrior."
Darric grunted out to me in a grumbly, growling tone.
". . ." I stood there, uninterested in his flattering remarks.
"Not much of a talker I suppose. No worries, that does well for me. A man should speak with his actions, not his words."
He stated. A stern look in his eyes as our gazes did not break contact for what felt like a day.
Axe in hand, Darric raised his right arm to the height of the clouds, double gripping his axe as he held it above his head.
Darric would close eyes as if he was praying to the steel weapon. Before opening his eyes, and rushing towards me, attempting to break the distance between us.
I slashed at Darric, meeting my blade with his as I continued to make distance between the two of us.
Only for Darric to overpower my blade with his axe, as I came to the realization that an upfront clash would do me no good. We countered and we parried each attack thrown at one another, neither of us showing any flaw in our technique.
Leaping back as Darric charged at me, I rotated my hips, pivoting on my left foot, contorting my body into a vicious spiral of attacks.
I swung my blade in a 360 degree motion in line with the momentum of my body, swiftly forcing my way through Darric's attacks, a move he did not anticipate. Darric would prepare himself for defense, but as I attempted to defend, I would shift my weight as my body nearly came into contact with his, my back turned to him, as I slipped my longsword blade between my torso and right arm. Attacking with exceptional precision, and timing, all in hopes of the surprise attack landing.
The length of my Longsword was more than enough to land on Darric even if he attempted to evade backwards, and he knew this.
Defending with the outer outline of his battle-axe within that split-second, allowed for my blade to slide off of his with a sharp screech as our blades made contact.
He impressively parried the attack, but Darric knew he had no time to waste. Instantly readying for another quick attack.
Pushing my body to its limits, I dropped my blade, once again pivoting on my left foot, as I turned to face Darric, I would regain grip of my blade, allowing for me to slash and block Darric's attack; all in one swift motion.
"Hmph. That's some impressive speed you have there young warrior. You must have been hiding your true strength. I must commend you once more."
Darric chuckled.
Our battle continued on, both of our footwork and technique nearly perfect as there was no room for error.
Darric one handed his axe, gathering a great amount of power as he swung, bringing his axe down on my head.
I rushed forward with no time for mistake. My eyes tracked the trajectory of the attack seconds before it even launched, dodging the massive swing aiming for my head.
My movements were amble, like a butterfly in the wind as I moved in to eliminate Darric and end this once and for all.
Double gripping my weapon with unparalleled strength, I glided past any attack Darric sent my way until I was finally in range for a finishing blow.
Darric released all of his might in a feral, and untamed barrage of forceful attacks. I struck Darric's barrage, an expression of shock formed on his face, at least he wasn't wrong about me hiding my strength.
We clashed, with me finding weak spots in Darric's defensive flurry of attacks, I chipped away at bits, and pieces of his armor with every attack he was unable to completely block.
Those pieces of armor then quickly shifted to shards of flesh, and tissue. It was now blatantly obvious just how large the gap between our swordsmanship was.
Darric retreated, dodging backwards as he leaped forwards into a violent spin. With this spin came his axe, as he swung the large blade over his head in a rotating overhand motion.
The humongous battle-axe came down, and I could tell that the threat of this attack was alarming, and lethal if precise.
Charging towards the attack, my resolve did not falter. I tossed my blade into my right hand, and glided past the outline of the attack, evading it just perfectly; just as Darric had once did mine. Once I had officially parried the attack, I swung.
My blade scraped the ground, cutting through the grass and field itself like butter. I led my blade upwards in an underhanded swinging motion, blood spurting out from all angles as my attack penetrated armor.
My attack had succeeded, leaving a deep slash from his groin to his nose. Nearly cleaving Darric completely in half if I had made the slash a bit deeper.
Darric looked down to see just how great the impact of the attack was. Falling to the ground as he somehow still managed to bear with the immense pain, gritting his teeth as a show of his tenacity.
I stood over Darric, aiming my blade at his throat and refusing to avert my gaze from his.
"May I know of your name, young man?"
Darric said, bearing his fangs as he choked on his own blood.
In the background, battle echoed throughout the chaotic field.
"Nel. Nel the Scarred."
I responded.
"Heh. Slain by a warrior of your caliber. A satisfying end this is."
He replied.
"You really were peculiar, Darric The Butcher."
I paused for a brief moment, etching the sight of the great Darric beneath my blade, and on the brink of death into my mind.
"I now bid you farewell. May you reach tranquility amongst the heavens."
I spoke to Darric one last time, before bringing my sword down straight through his skull. My head hanging low as I left my blade there, soaking in the moment as I basked in a much needed Nely.
I took a moment to survey the outfields. Now, a canvas painted red, previously a wide field of crops, was now a gravesite for the strong and weak.
Beyond the horizon, the sun rose as it peaked over the hill line. I raised my head, glaring at the radiant sunshine with tired eyes and a slight sigh in my breath.
"Nel!"
The voice of Old Man Craggle reached from across the field as he came into perspective, dragging his weight along with him with beat breaths and droplets of sweat pouring down onto the landscape.
"Nel! I finally found you-"
He stopped in his tracks as he came close to me.
"Is that Darric The Butcher?!" He shouted out.
"And did you just kill him?!"
He continued on.
Craggle couldn't find the words, but the look of awe on his face told more than enough.
"Craggle.
"Yes?"
Craggle leaned in, intrigued to hear my next words.
"Find me the quickest way to Solim."
". . ."
"Tchh~ What was I even expecting?"
Old Man Craggle's face dropped, smacking his gums in disappointment.