The Blood Lands

Chapter 3

"I know, but most of them are already dead. According to the closest resident, Scalgue sends its only Thracen to defend these borders."

"And so? Why would that matter?" This eastern border between the kingdoms of Valse and Segnovia had fewer casualties and thus, warranted less attention from the Sarinae. But Olivan knew there were battles in this area, and fighting meant wounded soldiers and civilians. There are wounded everywhere. You can't save them all.

"Thracen, Olivan, and I heard he was a very good one. A good Thracen means two things. A one-sided victory for who's side he was on, and that everyone he faced would be dead within mere seconds."

He was right, he made sense, but that only made Olivan angrier and more frustrated. "Then, there must be people who are still breathing that weren't fighting that Thracen. Go to them, Garth." She stared deeply into his eyes. Her bloody hands were curled into a tight fist, and she was breathing heavily through her nose yet she tried to soften her gaze. "They need you. And I need you to help them, please."

Garth stared back at her for a moment, then slowly walked away. He made his way through the corpses, still fresh and pungent to the senses. He was a good man, a better Sarin than most. Any Sarin that didn't kill was a better Sarin than most. We are supposed to heal and to preserve, she thought.

Why any Sarin would choose a side in this war baffled her. There were Sarins trained to heal, but chose to serve a certain noble, house, or kingdom. Some of those who chose to serve also were trained to kill. But Sarins were meant to be part of the Sarinae, to heal and save lives - choosing no side, having no master. Sarina is our master. We serve all dying, no matter who they serve and who inflicted their wounds.

Olivan wiped her bloodied hands with a towel, and used another to wipe off the sweat from her face. She took out a short length of rope, and tied her long, wavy hair that curled at the bottom. Her hair, a distinct trait of her family. A family she left behind. I made the decision, I chose to save everyone.

She left the recently deceased young boy, and marched the field. She was guilty, for she enjoyed the beauty of the landscape despite the atrocities that covered the soil. Soft grass spread all around her, cushioning her every step. The breeze was cool and comforting - but it brought with it the rancid stench of death and decay. Such beauty, so much life... all ruined by violence and greed and pride.

You cannot do this, Olivania, she remembered her father's words on the day she left, she can hear him clearly as if he was speaking right into her ears. Do not turn your back on your duty.

Olivan had a greater duty, one to the world. As she kept moving, she noticed that there were fewer bodies around this area of land. Where are those that need me...

She heard it, three years of training had taught her to listen for the faintest signs of a survivor. A groan, a moan - another life she can save.

It did not take her long to find them. They were the only bodies within a big radius. Three of them, two closer to each other than the other one. As she neared, she held back the bile that reached the back of her throat. She had seen many bodies, a lot of decapitations, ripped limbs and large, open wounds. But the first body, it had no head. It was no simple decapitation, because the remnants of its upper spine and skull still remained. She found shards of bone, soft tissues she assumed was brain matter close to the body.

This man was pummeled until his head was nothing but few pieces of dangling flesh, she thought. So much strength, no ordinary person could do this. That only meant one thing. An Argon was here.

Garth mentioned a Thracen, he was probably dispatched often to battles within this side of Valse. An Argon was eventually sent after him.

She left the headless man, sure that she could no longer save him. The other two men were about ten feet from each other. One was in simple leather armor with some kind of stick going through his upper right chest, close to his shoulder. The other was covered in plate, save for his right arm. Instead of where his right arm should have been, there was nothing. It had been severed just a few inches above the elbow, exposing raw flesh and bone.