I Spent a Day With ... Fanfiction One-shots

The Warrior

My eyes scrolled through the soldiers as they returned from the battlefield. Some sat slumped against the wall, others straightened their backs and adjusted their armbands as I passed. They were merely low ranked soldiers, as the grey on their armbands suggested. I wasn't interested in them. Nor in the warriors who were decorated in the yellow armbands. I wouldn't be seen speaking to anyone of such low status.

I raised my chin and walked straight ahead, passing the wounded soldiers as if they were mere pebbles that adorned the street, and not much of an adornment at that.

Hmph, I scoffed slightly, hoping to oppress the urge that welled inside me, on small occasions anyway, to pity them. They were beneath us, descendants of a nation of people who had once used their power to scourge the earth and slaughter millions before war broke out amongst them. It was our hero who had put a stop to their tyranny and sent their elders into hiding, leaving behind the few who live scattered around the world, many of which reside in our beautiful city.

I noticed his large physique merging through the wave of soldiers towards where I was standing. Even without his red armband, he was most definitely recognisable. Physically, he looked every bit that a dedicated soldier should look. It was a face that could not be mistaken for a less experienced soldier. It was a face that held the look of a man pained by many years of struggle, loss and anguish.

"Vice Chief Braun?" I asked although the answer was already clear to me.

He gestured a slight nod, his eyes squinting with what I could only assume was suspicion. It didn't faze me. Even though he was now an official Marleyan, he had no doubt had his share of time on the other side with his true race of people. As well as the fact that his history with people born outside his race had probably been riddled with distrust and pain.

It couldn't be helped. His people were, and would always be, considered low and even devilish.

"I am Celine Heinemann," I said without extending my hand. "I've been sent to speak with you."

He nodded again. Regardless of any distrust, he was still obliged to treat me with respect and possibly subservience, after all, we had allowed him the chance of a good life, so didn't we deserve that honour?

"You may show me to a place we can talk," I said and turned my gaze back towards the city.

"There is a place nearby," he said, gesturing a path for me to follow.

I walked ahead quietly, listening to the sound of his steady footsteps, which seemed to be close behind me, and hoping that this nearby place was somewhere befitting. I knew very little of the personal lives of the members of the warrior unit and even less of him. Apart from identifying those who would be deemed most loyal to our cause and most suitable for their role as a warrior, we didn't care much for their thoughts or feelings.

Another wave of guilt ran through me as I cast my glance sideward to catch a quick glimpse of him as he slowed his pace to greater the distance between us. How could I walk ahead of someone who, in all reality, was a war hero who had served our city to his utmost and still think of him as less than worthy of any respect?

"It's on the left," he said, gesturing to a small café at the corner of the road.

A small sigh of relief left me, although I wasn't sure what I had been expecting.

I entered the café and took a seat near the back, I didn't want complete privacy, but we needed to talk without all eyes and ears on us.

I sat up straight in my seat and waited for him to ask what I needed from him, but he didn't speak. His eyes were fixed on my face, actively watching my movements, but behind his gaze seemed a deep fog, as though his focus was not fully engaged on the present time.