Blood ran down the side of Gase’s face, forcing one of his eyes closed as he heaved for breath. The adrenaline had long since fled his body, leaving behind only sore muscles that had been forced past exhaustion. He dragged a deep breath into his burning lungs and slowly straightened back, pushing against the weight of the steel breastplate.

The wind danced across the field, sending tendrils of cold across his exposed neck and into the gaps of his armour. It couldn’t reach far, but it was a welcome change to the warm sweat that had soaked through his shirt and into the thick gambeson he wore. But the wind, fickle as it often was, soon turned, bringing with it the thick stench of blood and emptied bowels.

Gase raised his head and stared up into the dark clouds. Thunder roared in the distance as the first raindrops began to fall. He watched unflinchingly as one approached, seemingly slowed by his gaze. It struck his cheek, mixing with the blood that covered it before rolling down his neck. More joined the first as the clouds finally made good on their threat and broke.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he focused on the cold water spattering against his face and bloodied figure. For a few blissful moments, the sound of the rainstorm drowned out the cries of the wounded and separated him from the rest of the world.

He saw himself, no more than a boy, as he ran downstairs at the sound of his mother calling him. Bursting into the kitchen, he saw his father sitting at the head of the table and his brother at the side, wolfing down their breakfast. His mother turned towards him and smiled.

“You better hurry, or else your brother will eat it all,” she said.

“No fair!” He complained and dashed forward to claim his meal. His father eyed him with a raised eyebrow, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“All’s fair when it comes to food, boy,” he said in a rumbling voice. As he said this, his arm stretched out, quick as a viper, and snatched the piece of bacon Gase had just placed onto his plate.

He looked at his father, stunned at the betrayal, while his mother covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

The scene merged into another, and he could feel the pain shooting through his arm as the wooden sword struck down onto his shoulder. A cry escaped his lips as he dropped his own practice sword and clutched his shoulder.

“Don’t drop your weapon, boy,” came the booming voice of his father. “It is tied to your life. Lose your sword, and you may very well lose the other.”

The towering man looked down at him with a stern gaze. The morning sun glinted off his bare chest as he reached down and helped him back up.

“But it hurts like hell,” he couldn’t help but say. “I can’t help it.”

“Listen to me. Pain is a fleeting experience. One you must learn to overcome. If you fear pain, you may end up doing things that you will regret for the rest of your life. Or worse, you will fail to act when you need to, and others will get hurt. Trust me when I say that, that will stay with you a lot longer, and hurt a lot more than your shoulder does now. Understand?”

Gase nodded.

“When the time comes, when it is you standing between your mother or your bother and suffering. Will you let pain stop you? Will you act or stand back?”

“I will act!” He shouted defiantly.

A smile broke through his father’s countenance. “Good. Now, pick up the sword and come at me again.”

Once again, the scene merged. The light of what was the morning sun blended into that of a bed of coals, casting a glow that lit up the dark surroundings. A slightly older Gase sat next to the coals, keeping an eye on the sizzling rabbit suspended over it. The fat burned away slowly and dripped down onto the glowing embers beneath, bringing little flames into life and sending the intoxicating smell through the air.

“How long ‘till we can eat,” Darrin asked next to him.

The two of them had snuck out to spend the night in the woods. They would probably get a good hiding when they returned tomorrow. But not tonight. Tonight they were men. They had even managed to catch a rabbit in one of the traps they had set up this morning.

“Soon,” he answered. “You don’t want to rush when cooking a rabbit.”

“Like you would know. This is the first time you’re doing it, isn’t it?”

He gave a smile that he hoped looked mysterious. “Maybe I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“…Maybe you’re full of shit.”

The scene changed. The world brightened, and his friend’s words faded, lost in the clamour of all the people around him. Gase downed the last of the ale and slammed the tankard against the table. Olaf’s tavern was packed. But that was to be expected as it was the only one in the town and people had just gotten over the visit of the king’s taxman.

He glanced at his empty tankard and frowned. Where had the ale gone? Tilting it forward, his eyes hunted for the hole that was sure to be found at the bottom.

He quickly abandoned the search in favour of getting a new tankard, one that was complete… and filled with ale. Standing up carefully on the unsteady ground, he made his way over to his brother, who seemed to be arguing with one of the other men.

Seeing the argument take a turn for the worst, he stumbled towards his brother and pushed him out of the way just in time to block the incoming fist with his face. The world faded into darkness.

A darkness that was banished by starlight and firelight as the scene shifted. Fire pits were spaced evenly through the open field, each watched over by the groups that surrounded them. Loud music travelled through the air, a garish combination of Tom’s lute and Nade’s drums. The festival that came each year after the harvest brought happiness along with it to the small town. Townsfolk danced in the open field or sat around the fires and chatted while sharing a drink.

Sitting next to one of the fires, Gase watched the people who dancing under the stars. He paid particular attention to one of them. A young woman around his age with long raven black hair that swirled around her as she moved, eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the others around her. There was a smile on her face, one that spoke of joy in such volumes that he couldn’t help but stare.

“Mesmerised brother?” A voice came from next to him, snapping him back to his senses.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied, looking at his brother.

The man wore a knowing smile and nodded his head. “Ah, young love.”

“You’re a year older than me!” He retorted, causing his brother to burst out laughing.

“And much wiser for it!”

The festival fell away and the happiness drained like water flowing through his fingers.

His kept his face expressionless, but his eyes betrayed the pain in his chest as he stared at the coffin. His mother was kneeling in front of it, crying, and his brother trying to comfort her. The disease struck as fast as it was deadly. Four people had passed away already, and his father was the fifth. The massive man who had stood as immovable as a mountain was felled by an enemy his shield could not defend against.

Gase stood in front of the other town guards who came to mourn the loss of their captain. He stared at the coffin holding the corpse of the man that taught him so much. He might have been hard on him at times, but it was never without reason, and always with his future in mind.

His sore throat constricted and a single tear rolled down his cheek as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Together with the other guards, he saluted the old man one last time.

The scene blurred, and he steered it to more joyous memories.

Bending down over the bed, he reached out and brushed the long black hair out of the women face. She gave a soft moan in her sleep before opening her eyes and looking up at him. She blinked a few times blearily, then she smiled up at him.

“Good morning,” he said, returning the smile.

“Hm. Are you going off?”

“Yeah, my shift is starting soon. Got to show the new recruits how things are done,” he replied.

“Wasn’t long ago since you were one.”

“Time flies,” he said, moving his hand over her swollen belly. He bent down and kissed his unborn child. “I’ll be back before nightfall.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

The room faded away as he turned to the door, and he let it, following the memory to another.

Sitting on a chair in front of the house, he gazed at his two-year-old daughter playing on the grass. The sunlight shone through the trees, glinting off of the black hair she inherited from her mother. A smile touched his face as he saw her eyes widen in wonder as she discovered a bluecap beetle and poked at it.

Footsteps sounded behind him with the creaking of floorboards announcing his wife as she stepped outside. She looked toward their daughter harassing the unfortunate bug before shaking her head.

“You’re supposed to be teaching her numbers, yet I find you two like this,” she said.

“Let her enjoy herself. It’s too nice a day to spend it on things like that,” he replied, looking towards his wife.

She raised an eyebrow before turning to their daughter, only to see her running towards them laughing with her arms outstretched, clasping the beetle. She was shouting near-incomprehensible words, eager to show off her new prize to her parents.

A chuckle escaped his wife as she shook her head.

Another shift. Gase stood on top of the platform looking out, over the wooden walls of the town, towards the forest. The night air was cool against his skin, a welcome change from the heat during the day. The raining season should start soon. Already farmers were beginning to plant their crops in preparation.

The town still had a surplus food after paying their dues to the kingdom the previous year. It should have been a peaceful time, yet his face was more clouded than the dark night sky.

A young man stepped up next to him, one of the other guards that joined two years back. The man gave him a slightly sloppy salute.

“Captain.”

Gase let the tension drain from his face and nodded towards the man, putting him at ease. The guard turned and gazed over the forest before speaking. “Do you think those bastards up north will make it this far?”

The man’s tone was worried, and Gase shook his head.

“They’ve never managed to break through the crossing at the border, I doubt this time will be any different,” he said, though he had an uneasy feeling in his chest. He had heard that the army the Empire sent was much bigger than the previous times. It seemed they were determined to take a piece of the kingdom this time.

His words managed to ease some of the young guard’s fears, however, and the man nodded before taking out a wineskin and passing it to him. Gase uncorked the skin and took a swig, savouring the sweet taste as it rolled down his throat before giving it back to the man.

The sky swirled, blending with the earth before morphing into the inside of his house.

His wife hugged him in a tight embrace, her tears wet against the side of his neck.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

“The kingdom is conscripting militia from the border towns and villages. Someone has to show those pitchfork-wielding farmers how to fight,” he said jokingly as he returned her embrace. He held her tight for a long time before breaking away and gripping her by the shoulders to look into her eyes.

“I have to,” he said seriously, his face turning grave. “If we don’t have enough men at the crossing, the Empire will break through the border. Their rage will compel them to seek satisfaction in plunder and worse. Our town is too close. I can’t let that happen here.”

She held his gaze for a while before nodding with determination. Gase knelt down and embraced his four-year-old girl. Her tears streaked down her face. She didn’t completely understand what was happening, but she knew he was leaving and didn’t want him to.

“Be good, and listen to your mother, alright?”

She shook her head against his chest.

“Tell you what, when I get back we can spend the entire day by the river. How does that sound?”

She sniffled a few more times before slowly nodding.

Gase smiled and put his hand on her head. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He stood up and walked towards the door, grabbing his spear and shield on the way, his longsword already strapped to his side. He gathered his resolve and stepped and outside, walking down the road towards the temporary gathering outside the town walls.

He didn’t look back. He feared that his resolve might crumble if he were to see their faces again. The only reason he was doing this was for them.

The call of a horn cut through the rain, bringing him back from the depths of his memory. Sounds rushed into his ears, clamouring for attention. Screams of the wounded and shouts of soldiers echoing around the battlefield.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking up at the falling rain that was washing the blood from his body, both his own and others’. The rain let up a bit, a lull in the downpour, as if the sky was awaiting what would happen next.

Gase lowered his head to look in front of him. The corpses of allies and enemies littered the field of the crossing. The blood and rain drained into the ground, turning it into red mud that squelched beneath the boots of the soldiers and militia around him as they took up their positions. In front, the northerner army had finished reforming their ranks after they had pulled back.

He was standing on the frontline this time, something to be expected as the previous frontline soldiers were all laying before him. Their broken corpses a constant reminder of his fate. He looked around, at the myriad of expressions surrounding him. The excitement, anticipation, anger and the fear, so much fear. He could see it lurking in darting eyes, looking for an escape.

No doubt this was part of the enemy commander’s strategy, pull back his own forces while leaving them with the dead. Gase could think of few things that would cause more demoralising than seeing your companions lying dead in front of you while watching the cause of their death come for you too. The enemy was probably hoping they would break then, before the superior numbers of the Empire.

Gase looked to his side at Tems, the only remaining member of those of the guard that joined him in coming here. The others were either separated from him during the previous clash or dead.

“You know Tems, my wife promised to bake me one of those famous apple pies when I get back.” He said, speaking loudly. He could feel the attention of the others around him as they reached for anything to take their minds off of what was coming. “Now I know she is known as a great cook, but I didn’t think she’d draw such a crowd.”

Tems snorted beside him as did one or two others.

“But seeing them screaming like that, all covered in blood… I don’t think I want them anywhere near my family. Having them overrunning the town where my mother, my brother, my wife, my child sleeps? No, I don’t think I want that at all.”

He could sense a turn in the atmosphere. A small thing, but it was there. A few men stood up a bit straighter, a few clutched their weapons a bit tighter. They still remembered why they were here.

“Looks like they found their balls,” Tems said, nodding towards the enemy army as it began moving towards them. A wave of flesh and blood.

“Took them a while, eh? Guess they were all shrivelled up from how they retreated like cowards.”

“Bah,” shouted a voice to his left, only a slight crack to it. “They never had any to begin with!”

Gase felt his lips quirk up.

“You might very well be right,” he said, raising his voice as the enemy began charging, shouting as they did so. “Listen to all that wailing!”

“They sound like babes taken from their momma’s teet!” Another voice shouted to his right.

“At least they can see what real men look like once before they die, eh?” Gase shouted. His shout was met with a roar. Then another and another, as the men at his side cried out their defiance. Their warcries were quickly bolstered by others down the line, feeding into one another, before the voices around him drowned out the thunder overhead.

It was a small thing. Only a small part of the defensive line. But this part would not break.

Just as the two forces were about to meet, an image flashed through his mind. An image of his daughter playing in a field of grass, the sun glinting off of her black hair. With a smile on his face and calm in his heart, he stepped forward to meet them.

If his sacrifice could help secure her future, then it was one he would gladly give thousand times over.