Chapter 1
Chapter One: No Right Reason
Rain poured as the sound of rushing soldiers echoed through the air. Battle cries that no storm could drown bellowed, catching the wind so as not to go unheard by a single soul. The lightning struck furiously and erratically as I charged into battle, leading some into certain death and others into what could only be the final stretch for freedom. Peace, the only thing that kept our bloody, scar riddled bodies moving forward. This war felt different though and as I found my sword in the first enemy’s neck I couldn’t help but notice the blood that splattered across my Armor. Painting a dark picture of what was to come.
Everything felt clumsy, off. I quickly removed my sword from the fallen soldier’s neck and with a fierce cry of my own I turned only to see a glint in my eyes. The glint of a sword. There was no time to react, no time to dodge, no time to defend. It triumphantly clashed with my own neck and just like my prey my body dropped with that same heavy thud.
Darkness enshrouded my being, consuming everything and swallowing me whole. There was only a brief moment of comfort in that before I was standing in front of my own blood soaked body. I stared at the gapping gash, exposing what lay deep beneath my skin and searched my grey eyes that were so hollow and dim now.
I can’t recall how long I stood there, entranced by the sight of my own death, before the ground beneath my new being began to tremble. My vision blurred as I turned to see a light flashing beside me, illuminating so brightly all I could do was shove my armored hand in front of me and squint my eyes against its harshness. I watched the rays begin to shimmer and merge quickly taking shape and solidifying into a solid white being, and although I had already died I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
As my eyes focused from the blurring of my surroundings I took in this featureless figure that stood before me. A layer of light bordering a body of pure white. “You’ve taken your death quite well Knight.” it spoke, yet there was no source to this voice, no sound, yet so boldly clear amidst the screaming cries of the soldiers I could hear it ask, “Did you not wish to see the end of this disaster?”
These words caused me to straighten, still holding on to pride even against whatever this thing was. I had died in order to set my kingdom free, to save lives in the future, for the greater good. My king only wanted what was best for our kingdom and that could not be denied.
“Do you truly believe that?” it said before those words could even leave my mouth, causing my demeanor to go rigid. How could this thing know my thoughts? “Just as my voice needs no vessel to reach you, you need none to reach me. I supposed you prefer to use your physical words to justify your naive ways?” and although it was posed as a question it came as a scolding statement.
“You know nothing of me!” I spit, completely on guard. It was sinking in quickly, the reality that this being standing in front of me was far more surreal than I’d thought. Everything was sinking in now. All the hard work, all the blood I’d shed and spilled to see the end of this war just for me to die before that goal was met. This was supposed to be it, the final war. Like myself the king had worked tirelessly to get us to this point, to bring the kingdoms together so that all could live in harmony without threat.
“I know everything about you, my child. Do you truly believe such nonsense?” it spoke, turning its head to the ongoing brutality. “Look around you.” it instructs and I reluctantly obey. My focus shifts to the scene playing out in front of me. Soldiers are firing arrows into one another, eating away at flesh with their blood ridden weapons, bodies collecting at their feet.
“How many wars have you fought? Can you really say it was all for peace, for the greater good? Really look at your opponents.” With those words my focus shifted to the opposing side, though only years of war could teach you to tell the difference while in combat.
My stubborn ways, my steadfast faith in my king had stopped me from seeing anything other than the obstacle that prevented our people from prospering, from thriving. If I had to admit I was wrong here and now it would all surely be for nothing, so instead I chose to become defensive.
“And who are you to question my morals?!” I sneer.
“My child, surely you can recognize the very God you’ve used as an excuse to follow your King so blindly.” The being says causing my heart to truly plummet now. It was the truth though. What I wanted was a solid confirmation in this situation that felt so unreal, but there was no getting that in a situation that I had no bearings in.
“My king has done this for you, if you are God you will know that he has faithfully served you!” I say, rage boiling from within my soul.
“And you don’t think that they think the same as you? Tell me what God would want blood spilled in their name.” It says with what could only be described as sorrow. “They are the same, fighting for the same cause. The greater good, their own greater good. They have families, homes, and religion. Was there really no other way than your king to send his most bloodthirsty soldier to vanquish war after war?” It says, using my own reasons against me, the very same reasons that justified the screaming corpses in my head.
“You have given your king many victories, but now you must stop this horror.” As it finished that sentence a sudden head splitting scream erupted in my head causing me to clutch the base of my skull. The ground once again shook beneath me leaving me only capable of squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth.
“Stop it!” I hissed with demand as the light flickered outside my eyelids causing me to feel disoriented. “Stop it!” Once again escaped me and then the light was gone. Vanishing at my demand. The muffled screams and high pitched squeal replaced by the sound of a gentle fire. A cool breeze tickling the side of my face and the sound of trees brushing in the wind greeted me kindly. For a split second but bask in the familiar feeling my stiff body relaxed.
A feeling that had long left me after the death of my closest comrades.
“Myla.” A familiar voice from a distant memory calls me as motion happens right outside my face. The voice of a long lost brother before war became pointless deep down. Pointless yet had gone too far to stop.
“Myla, are you listening to me?” His voice echoes, demanding my attention and as I open my eyes to look ahead I see the exact scenery from my past. The dark forest brimming with deep green at the edge of our camp straight ahead of me while to the right was a baste field of hill tops and grass. My heart was pounding in my chest as I look to my left to find my fallen brother truly sitting next to me. His eyes no longer the cloudy brown that stained my memories but a vibrant reflection of the flames in front of us, while his brown hair framed his face with a stiffness.
“I must have really died…” I mutter in disbelief as I drag my hand across my face.
“Died?” He repeats. “What are you on about? Nothing could kill the almighty Myla.” He states with certainty. A statement that was now mocking me to the point my stomach churned at reality. If only he knew just how untrue that was, but he was right about one thing. I wasn’t dead.
No death of mine would lead me back to such a pleasant part of my life. Many would deny that, but even when I believed in my actions there was no part of me that believed there was any awarding them.
“Lance, where are the others?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to hide the turmoil of confusion that was settling inside me. This caused him to furrow his eyebrows.
“Don’t you remember? You sent them to gather supplies from the outpost nearby.” He says, confused by my sudden forgetfulness. In return I gave silence, returning before taking in my surroundings once more.
’If I’m here again then that means everything that happened was real.’ I think to myself, knowing that I could not afford to repeat the same mistakes. Meaning that I needed to speak to King Alaric, needed to plead my case.
“Myla… Are you sure about this?” Lance asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and reminding me of one thing crucial about tonight that I’d forgotten. I’d brushed Lance off but he’d had his doubts. “We’ve fought two wars already and now we are attacking Glorarch. A country that bears no grievance with us.” He continues, trying to convince me like he’d done a few times before this.
In the past I’d simply respond to him in loyalty to our king and I couldn’t help but remember the lecture I’d received at death.
“Lance when the others arrive, gather them and prepare to set out.” I instruct him simply. Standing up from the log I’d been rooted on I go to prepare my own bearings, leaving him there without any response. It wasn’t hard to find my belongings isolated from the others at the base of a tree. A light tattered bag with my crossbow secured to and my sword propped against the base of the tree. My armor lay hollow and scattered in the grass not far.
There was only one thing I was looking for though, and as I crouched down and pulled open my bag it wasn’t hard to spot as the handle gave off a slight gleam from within. Reaching down I grazed the neatly designed marking before fully removing it from my belongings. Staring down at the dagger King Alaric had bestowed upon me the grim reality felt heavy on my shoulders. If his majesty did not forfeit this war then my hands would be stained not only with the blood of people fighting for their lives on the battlefield but the man I followed faithfully. Blindly. I’d obeyed every order, every whim, telling myself that the guilt that stained my conscience was a mere stain that came with war.
I was wrong. It wasn’t a mere stain. It was my entire being screaming at me that I was going along with something man knew was wrong. If I was going to take lives I should’ve done it on my own reasoning. With something that I could at least understand. Not in the name of religion. No. There was no excuse that could hide my willingness to commit violence, and as I stared down at the dagger that symbolized my own transgressions I stood up straight with resolve.
For the next three hours I anxiously prepared to set out. Mapping out multiple escape routes in case things went awry, playing out every scenario possible. I needed to be sure I didn’t let anything slip through my grasp this time. By the time my restless procedure was done I could hear the leaves rustling in the distance. Familiar voices curse as they fumble the dark woods and as I glance back Lance disappears into the tree line. Probably taking the opportunity to not only fill them in but also express his concerns.
Standing up, I throw my bag over my shoulder and wait as rushed footsteps make their way anxiously towards the camp. I thought I’d prepared myself quite well to see my old comrades but as they hurled into the camp one after the other my chest tightened.
“What is this about departing Commander?!”Grace says, angrily stomping towards me, her blonde hair furiously bouncing around as the others drop the supplies behind her.
“Yes, we have only just returned to camp!” Grant confirms as he strides over in agreement, his green eyes gleaming with frustration. “We aren’t due to join the troops for three days.”
Silence fell over me as I took in the sound of their voices, and the sight of their familiar figures. Grace, a girl who held a fury temper, a sea of blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She’d endured a rain of arrows on the battlefield only to succumb to her wounds three days later. Grant, her older brother, held the same blonde hair but wielded deep green eyes that often times held defiance, had lost his mind after the loss of sister. Filling his days with rage and destruction he spiraled and the following battle he would charge in on his own and immediately be impaled by the enemy’s spears.
My eyes wandered to the last to emerge from the forest. Standing back and observing without any input at all was Devon. Barely seventeen with bright red hair that stuck out erratically and deep blue eyes that carried worry. In the end guilt would eat him alive just as we approached the war that would end my own life. We would find him hanging in the barracks. Nothing left but a letter of grievances.
Now here I was standing in front of all of them once again. Staring at the very people who left me lingering in memories that I could never quite touch. Desperation welled up in me. I had to save them this time.
“I will save them this time.” I correct myself in an inaudible murmur.
“Commander, please tell me you are listening to us.” Grace snaps in exasperation.
“Yes. I am listening to you Grace.” I say, finally finding my voice amongst all of the thoughts crashing around in my head.
“Then answer us. Why are we heading for the barracks ahead of schedule?” Grant asks with a huff.
“We are not heading to the barracks. We are heading to Saint Helms.” I answer calmly. Immediately I could see disbelief cross their faces. Which was understandable when their leading knight was diverging from orders.
“Have you lost your mind Myla?!” Grant exclaims, dropping all formalities. “That is a four day trek back and we are due to be at war in five!” Bewilderment laced his words. It wasn’t unexpected for them to be resistant. After all, we’d already come this far, and I couldn’t very well tell them I’d witnessed their deaths along with mine, on top of that I’d traveled back in time. That a godlike being had made me question if this was all for nothing.
A long pause echoed around us before I could finally figure out exactly what to say in response.
“There will be no war Grant.” I say calmly. “At least not if I can stop it.” My words caused everyone but Lance to go rigid.
“These are words of treason Captain!” Grace hisses as she bends to fill some of the distance between us. “ His majesty could have you beheaded!” She says, her words coming out with defensiveness.
She was right, he could but we all knew it would be hard for him to make such a command as I was his strongest knight. The reason he’d gathered vital intel so quickly or even at all. The person he’d made use of the most. Of course there were others who were more than willing but none would have the abilities or loyalty that I had.
An orphan who had nothing would always crave to have more and I was much cheaper than any noble or outside informant.
You don’t have to follow me, none of you do.” I say, and I actually meant it. I didn’t want to risk anything happening to them but there was also a reason they were with me instead of the troops.
“We had no reason to go to war the first time and we still don’t now. If this continues Glorarch will become our enemy and so will every kingdom supporting them.” I continue “Do we really want to continue fighting war after war? Taking lives that never wanted to take ours?” I ask. They all pause for a moment, mulling over my words seriously before Grace finally speaks up.
“Okay, say we do agree, say we do go back to Saint Helms and the king loses his shit and has us declared traitors. What then?” She asks, her scenario already one I’d intensely played out in my head.
“He won’t.” I state simply in response.
“Commander, you are too confident in our king. You’ve been following him loyally for years now and refuse to see the truth but this will surely break you.” Lance says, stepping forward with the bags already slung over his shoulder. “But I’ll go.” He finishes as he walks past us. The others followed him with their eyes before huffing in defeat and going back to collect their things.
That only left one person. Devon, who was still standing there contemplating what to do. We’d fought two wars now as we couldn’t be absolved of all our sins and it was evident that it was taking a toll on him. Dark circles under his eyes, nails chewed down to the brim, and skin paler than normal. I knew why he was here, even though it was obvious he wasn’t meant for the battlefield. He was the son of a commoner who desperately needed money.
“Devon, if this is a risk you aren’t willing to take I understand.” I say, my words coming out as comforting as a hardened knight could manage. He stared at me for a moment before picking his own bags and walking up to me as he slung them over his shoulder.
“Commander… If things don’t go as you are so sure they will, you must protect my father and brother.” He says flatly before simply walking away. Staring at his back I couldn’t help but remember that silhouette dangling so desperately. The letter that screamed horrors and nightmares. It caused my heart to beat with anxiety, especially knowing that his family hadn’t been enough to stop it.
Responsibility to them wasn’t enough to at least see this life through to the end. I had insisted on delivering the news of his death personally back to them and I wasn’t sure I could handle doing it again.
“We will head out now then.” I say to them, pushing back the memories that didn’t exist in this world yet. Not knowing just how it’d be to get to Saint Helm’s and the disaster that would follow after.
