(OOC: A short story that I wrote 2 years ago, if not more. I decided not to make any changes to it, framing my writing style as it was in the past. Not the best, but it'll do.)

The night was young and the air was cold and biting…darkness was ubiquitous and nearly tangible… save for a singular area that was currently illuminated by the warm glow of a roaring fire. Around the orange radiance sat four soldiers who were sharpening weapons, consuming rations, and merely waiting for something to come. I happen to be one of those men.

"What do you plan to do when we get back to Ontel?” My voice was the first to shatter the eerie silence that had fallen upon us. Much like my brethren, who surrounded me at this instance, I was recently drafted into the King’s army. Black tufts of hair adorned the crown of my head and nearly black eyes reflected the light of the crackling fire. When my question was first posed, my hand had been running a sharpening stone across the length of my blade; my eyes flicked up from the fire to stare at the man to my right.

“Eat.” Shiv’s voice, deep like rolling thunder, reverberated from his chest and spread outwards to be heard by us all. “As soon as we get back to Ontel, I’m going straight to the Silver Hawk, walking straight up to that counter, and orderin’ the minced stew. Best in the land!” Obsidian hair, cropped messily, was tussled lightly to add emphasis to his sentence. Rich, brown eyes seemed alight by some inner source, as he raised his hand to the sky, clutching his longbow. What drew attention to Shiv immediately was his stature; he was a giant amongst men, standing a head above the rest of us and not much less above everyone else. Everything about this man screamed power, from the dense build of his form to the enormous longbow whose length rivaled his own height; it was a surprise to most to learn that Shiv was an archer, and not a swordsman like me.

“I plan to get a girl…No! Four girls, all at once. And I plan to ‘love’ them till the rays of the sun break through the bleak mornin’ sky!” Dark brown wisps of hair hung down just below Zeus’ ears; jade and brown pigments marked his eyes. He was the next to answer, seated to the right of Shiv and across the fire from me. While he spoke, Zeus gesticulated, illustrating his claim with avid use of his sword and shield. While most considered this an exaggeration, the three of us knew this to ring as true as any bell…for he had done a similar feat at the village we rested at not more than a week ago.

“ Practice, for the next time we are all called upon.” Whereas Shiv was built like a mountain and Zeus and I had the muscle required to be experts in sword craft, Mars was the frailest looking out of the four of us, though undoubtedly the bravest. Light brown hair, with eyes that matched the color of fine sand, flowed down past his shoulders. “One can never be too sharp for the field of battle.” While he spoke, his eyes trained in on the heads of his arrows, making sure they were perfectly situated on their wooden shafts and sharpened nearly to a fault. His weapon, a short-bow, was looked down upon by many, yet Mars had managed to garner respect for the weapon with finely honed skill. “And you, Odin, what do you plan to do?”


The question I inspired had now gone full circle and it was my turn to speak.

“…I’ve a girl waiting for me back home.” Jeers and friendly insults were instantly flung at me. I merely smiled and continued, focusing my eyes back to the edges of my sword. “I do! I promise you, I have a girl waiting for me back at home, and when we return to Ontel, I plan to fall into her waiting arms!” My smile grew wider as rambunctious laughter rang out.

“Waitin’ for ya, is she? And I suppose she’s ignorant to that fact?” Shiv howled with laughter, his entire body shaking with his friendly jest.

“Arms waiting, eh?” Zeus was the next to take a stab at my pride. “Waitin’ for me and you just happened to get there first, is that it?” His smile grew a bit wider at the end of his sentence.

“Waitin’ for ya after I got done with her.” Mars slapped his knee, and the laughter grew in pitch and volume. Mars, with his hand, gently coaxed the mirth to a random chuckle here and there. “Ah, but tell me Odin, all jokes aside…who is this lady who’s heart you claim to have stolen?”

A rag in hand, I was polishing my shield, making the black and blue insignia of our kingdom shine with vigor. I contemplated, for a fleeting moment, describing the raven haired beauty who had stolen my heart, and who was a noble…a status that placed her well out of reach of a common soldier, but not out of sight. Yet, I grew tired of their jests much too quickly and opted for a second reply. “Your mother, all of yours.” And with that, I joined them in amusement again, laughter ringing out vivaciously for all to hear.

But soon enough, our laughter died down as the impending gloom of tomorrow’s actions awaited us all. Tomorrow, we would cross the White-Peaked Mountains and come face to face with the enemy. We had spent the night talking about what we would do when we returned to our home village…of what cobbled streets we would take down Ontel’s many passages, of which people we would spend the day talking to, or which of the various girls we would spend the year trying to court…we spent all night speaking of such things because we knew our lives would end by tomorrow’s sunset, and fevered dreams of things that would never come were all that could offer our minds some sort of reprieve.

“We should sleep…Whatever energy we can muster in the morn will be most precious.” I was the first to speak once more, offering all of us a chance to swim within the depths of our minds…rather than spend the rest of the night in the overwhelming depression that covered us all.

“Aye.” Three voices rang in unison and four bodies turned to make simple bedding for themselves; bags stuffed of straw for beds and cloth sheets for blankets. I fell into a fitful sleep…one over-run by waves of blood and steel.


One simple movement was all that it took to stir the warrior’s instincts that had been engrained into my mind and body the past year. A nudge in the ribs and my hand closed around the hilt of my weapon, my body stood even before consciousness had fully flooded my mind and I was instantly ready for battle. When my sight finally cleared, pushing away the murky onsets of sleep, I was staring down the shaft of an arrow and into the brown eyes of Mars.

“You surprised me.” I said simply, placing the blade into its proper home; the hilt strapped to my side, and putting my arm through the loops of my shield.

“Can’t say you were the only one.” The string was slowly relaxed, the arrow placed back upon the quiver that hung on Mars’ back.

“How long till we march?” My eyes had yet to meet his again; I was too preoccupied with placing my boots on and slipping into my armor…or too afraid to come to terms with what must be done.

“After breakfast, then we walk past the top of the Mountains and down to the village where we await the legions of Vitannia with the rest of our militia.” His back had turned to me during this time and had made his way back to the logs we had all used for seats. Last night’s fire had died and now a new one burned in its wake. Soon, I joined the other 3 near the fire for meager rations of salted pork and stale bread. In the past year, we had become brothers…united not by blood but by something stronger; pride for our land and love for our kingdom.


Breakfast came and went all too quickly, giving us no time to mentally prepare ourselves for the battle that was nearly at hand. No words were spoken, for they were no longer needed; we merely suited up, grabbed our remaining things and set off down the unseen trail to the rendezvous point; Noreston.


The travel was similar to this morning’s meals, passing by much quicker than any of us had anticipated. We marched onward, like ants, bodies moving in spite of our minds while our eyes were cast downward for fear of glancing up and staring into the grim visage of The Reaper. Hours later, when the sun hung in the middle of the sky, we stood on the outskirts of the village. A crowd of people let loose cheers and applause so devotedly full of hope that they would make any man feel like a Hero…and though we may have looked the part, adorned with the armor of our Kingdom, carrying weapons to defend our land and the determination to fight for our lives grimly carved into our faces…on the inside, we hardly felt like Heroes at all.


Ontel’s battalion was meager, barely a force of forty men strong, fifty men at a stretch, and we would be facing a legion of hundreds, if not thousands, of men soon enough. I looked around at the other soldiers that had been drafted, men of various sizes and shapes, colors and backgrounds…a draft that had gathered men without prejudice; no man, no matter how rich or poor, would escape the hand of conscription.

As if to bolster our confidence, we were formed into small groups, each assigned a number. On paper, we were most intimidating, thirteen battalions ready to face down any foe…but, in reality, the four men to each battalion hardly came to more than a spit in the eye of a formidable foe. Don’t get me wrong, none of us were weak, we could each carry our own…but there were men far greater than we and, more likely than not, those men would be on the opposing side.

My group was the last to join, forged of child-hood friends; my group was the 13th. I’d known Zeus since I was a lad, and Shiv and Mars had known each other for equal time. When we first met, suspicions ran rampant, unsure of the others skills…though, soon enough, we forged a web of friendship between the four of us so strong that no force on earth, or beyond, could hope to shatter it.


“It’s almost time… isn’t it?” For the third time, I was the first to speak. Maybe I couldn’t stand the silence…ever present, ever watchful, and waiting…for a moment, an instance where we falter, and then it would swoop in and suffocate us all. Maybe I spoke out of fear…or maybe I was the only one brave enough to speak at a time like this.

“Not more than a handful of hours.” Mars took the initiative to speak this time, the other two as silent as mutes.

“This is it then, our last day…” My sword had been sharpened enough already, my shield shone with luster and everything that needed to be on my person was already there; I had nothing to do but sit and wait for the time when we would meet our fate. I took it upon myself to glance around at the others once more. Groups had been forged, yes, but not a team; they all wanted to be independent, to be leaders…with those kinds of attitudes, they were doing more harm than good. I then glanced to my own group, to Zeus teaching Shiv some basics of sword fighting, then to Mars joining them and initiating an act of harmless foolery.

“Stop lookin’ so gloomy! How about a speech then, Odin? Some words to rally up the Warriors inside us all?” Zeus, the one who knew me best, suggested I make some type of address. Bashful as I was, my countenance deepened to maroon and I shook my hands and head in unison, trying desperately to dismiss the notion.

“Oh, don’t be shy now. I’m sure that girl of yours wouldn’t want you to be so timid.” Mars had joined in the festivities next, grabbing my arm and pulling me upwards, Shiv merely smiled as he seated himself, already able to tell that I was close to caving to the desires of my brethren.

“Fine, but don’t blame me if no one else listens.” As if my words were a challenge, the other men instantly stopped what they were doing and glanced at me with eager eyes. Feeling the weight of their gaze, I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should continue…then, with a sigh, I held my head up high.


My mind aflame with the expectations of those around me…I began. “A momentous hour has struck us all. Envious rivals everywhere force us to legitimate defense. Realize that the sword has been forced into our hands. I hope that, in this event, my efforts, till my last breathing moment, do not succeed in bringing our opponents to reason and in preserving peace….so that we may use the sword, and so that we may sheathe it again with honor! War will demand enormous sacrifices by us all, but we shall show the enemy what it means to attack us, we shall show them scornful defeat. And in this time of need, I will be the first on the field of battle and the last to leave. And so I commend you to our Savior, and know that on this day we are all brothers in arms. Go forth into war and show them no mercy…for heaven awaits the brave and honored men.”


I felt like a king, delivering a speech, for when my hand drew my sword to the sky of our encampment, so did the swords of everyone else. A cry, more powerful than any other heard throughout the lands, erupted from the undulating mass and washed all of us with hope of glory, of winning! As I seated myself, once more, amongst my brothers and glanced about…I saw that my words had more of an impact than I realized. As I looked about, I no longer saw soldiers with paranoia or doubt on their minds…No; I saw a family…a family who would fight to the death, and beyond even that, to defend our Mother, Ontel.


The sun had gone and come.


The sky was bleak and vastly gray, laying down a mantle of despair over the town of Noreston. A few golden rays broke through the dreary sky, though its shine was weak and few. The field where the battle would proceed was completely empty, desolate of all life, save for a single group of four men; The 13th battalion. I stood at the ready, the unwritten leader, and my men stood behind me, ready as well. My sword lay in hand, Zeus at my right with his sword in his own, and behind us stood Shiv and Mars, bows in one hand and arrows at the other. We spotted, nearly at the same time, the first glimmers of our enemies rising over the landscape and marching, unerringly, our way.

“Zeus, Shiv, Mars…” My voice was soft; a whisper so fragile that it seemed as if a wayward breeze would whisk it away. Simultaneously, all three turned to me. I said no more, for an unspoken bond had been made between us just then, that we would fight beyond death.

Minutes later, erratic arrows landed in the ground before us, yet the 13th never faltered. The wooden shafts moved closer and closer, until one landed just in front of me, a hair’s breadth from striking my foot. At this, I took a deep breath, set my jaw and steadied my focus, before raising my sword high into the air. “In the name of Ontel!” And I ran like a man on fire, jumping over the bodies of the men who had died less than an hour ago, their flesh so newly torn that blood still dripped from a few of their corpses.

Yes, we had arrived too late. In the middle of the night, they left us asleep and marched to cut off the advancing troops. They had died valiantly; they fought like martyrs, with no regard of their own lives, just the objective of felling their enemies in mind. A group of fifty men had decimated a chunk of the enemies legion nearly 4 times their size…but there were so many more to fight.

That’s where the 13th came. We would not be denied our chance; we would not be four men who had slept through war, four men left alive for lack of awareness, four men who slept cowardly as fifty died bravely. As tears streamed down my cheek and splattered against the ground, mixing with the crimson essence of my comrades, I prayed that I would die a noble death.