Rather be a Lover than a Fighter

Chapter 1: The Battlefield

My facial expression remained calm as I cut down the last man and watched him die, before he even hit the ground. His blood flowed out of his body quickly and made a big puddle underneath him that I observed for a while. Sadly, this sight was very familiar to me and I saw images of similar bloody puddles flashing in my mind before I could avert my eyes from this one. Since the sun was already setting, the blood resembled the color of the light illuminating the Battlefield and in front of me and the mountains behind it, which were technically my property now. As a single person, I was obviously not able to fight entire armies, but the small invasions, that were mostly planned by the people instead of the rulers, were something I could handle by myself. Every Single one, off the forty-two dead soldiers that tried to protect this property, was laying on the Ground. They were bathing in pools of blood, which I only just realized since I couldn't spare the time to pay them much attention while I was fighting. The blood came from multiple deadly injuries I have caused on the different bodies because a lot of the soldiers had to die from blood loss and in agony. Of course, I always tried to avoid that and kill immediately with the first strike but when I was targeted by so many there was no way for me to aim every strike perfectly, it was impossible. I didn't want to think about the cruel things I just did to those people anymore, so I quickly looked back at the last corpse, that died without feeling too much pain. While I watched that last man, I wondered whether he was the last because he was hiding before, or if he was simply the strongest, and I didn't recognize it. I thought about kneeling down and trying to figure it out by his corpse, but I quickly decided against it, when I saw a glimpse of his face that was hidden by the Ground. The agony, regret and suffering the Soldier went through could be seen clearly in his last expressions, and I saw more than enough of that already. With a sigh, I rammed my swords into the Ground before I took a dirty, little piece of fabric out of my coat. One by one, I cleaned all the dirt and bloodstains off the metallic blades in order to prevent them from corroding too early in their lives, since I still needed them. This process always made me feel like I was cleaning the blood off my hands and helped me to blend out the negative thoughts I had about killing so many innocent people. Not that it prevented any of the Nightmares, but it kept me sane at the very least, which is already more than I could ask for considering the deeds I have committed. Sanity was generally a rare treat between soldiers, especially those that got sent out a lot because of their skills or clear judgement. Most were able to keep themselves together enough to at least appear sane most of the time, but there are some extreme case in which the soldiers required specific help from the castle doctors to cope with their Trauma. After I was done cleaning my blades carefully, I sheathed them and put them back at their place in my belt, since it felt way too light without them. With the familiar weight back around my waist, I finally dared to look back at all the dead Soldiers laying on the Ground and mourned them shortly by thanking them for the good fight they put up. It was also one of the rituals I have gotten myself into, regardless of their backgrounds, heritage or even number, I would always thank the Soldiers for the fight they put up against me. I took a last glance at the mountains that were far behind the battlefield before I finally turned around for the last time with the intent to never see this place again.

It didn't take long for me to get to the camp the other Soldiers set up while I was doing all the fighting, which obviously made some of them jealous. The King knew that, but he still sent entire armies after me with the orders to back me up, which I never allowed no matter how bad my situation was. Most of them were new after all, so they didn't know what cruelty would await them if they did try to follow me into battle, and I definitely won't be the one to tell or show them. I understood that they signed up for this because they wanted to be loyal Fighters, but all the fighting I have done up until now would have been for nothing if I corrupted them at the very beginning. Of course, they did need to know about all the horrors of battle eventually, but if I were to be the one to tell them my memories, I would traumatize them for the rest of their lives, which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. If they really had to learn, I would prefer if they did it through books or even old stories, rather than actual experiences. When I finally entered the small array of tents, I was greeted with a big celebration for my victory, and people thanked me left and right. The Soldier wanted to give me food and water while trying to convince me to join them at the banquet they held for my victory, but I declined everything immediately. Most of them already learned how to celebrate without me and didn't really care anymore because it was just one person missing. That was the reason I just let them do what they want after my return nowadays as long as it didn't involve me. I was very tired and hoped that I could finally sleep a few hours today, though that hope was most likely futile since I killed today and the Nightmares were not going to ignore that. In any way, I have not celebrated my victories for a long time now because I didn't think that there was anything to celebrate about killing eighty-two people. Wars and Battles were always like this, cruel and unforgiving to those that can't stand their ground or sometimes didn't even belong on the Battlefield. It never mattered what or who you were, how much or little you trained because if there was an opponent in front of you that was stronger, you would always lose your life without any exception. I didn't want to tell them that though, so I just ignored their pleas and headed straight for the biggest tent in the very middle of the camp that wasn't set up yesterday and which I assumed was mine. As I entered, I saw a big straw mat rolled out in a corner and a chest next to it, that I could clearly identify as the one I brought with me last night when I came, since it's always the same one. Other than that, the tent was entirely empty, since I didn't want to bring any more stuff with me for nothing more than two nights and a single battle. Without even taking off my cape, I let myself fall hard on the uncomfortable straw, which I was so used to by now that it barely even bothered me. The Ground was hard underneath and I hurt my back a little with the fall, but that pain was forgotten instantly when I started to feel all the muscles ache from the battle I just fought. Laying down was a relief and punishment at the same time since I could relax, but every single movement from that moment onward hurt like hell so, I had to lay completely still and stare at the cover of the tent. After probably a few hours I heard the music of the celebrating soldiers slowly die down together with their loud voices and their laughter that echoed through the entire Camp before. Only a little while later, the night was filled with snores and I suspected that they had been drunk enough to pass out without even making it to their carefully set up tents. It took some time for me to blend out the snores all over the place, but once I was able to do it, I listened to the quiet sounds of the undisturbed nightlife that was all around us. Since my nightmares usually kept me up most nights, I picked up this useful habit to spend the nighttime wisely without wasting it. Doing this every night helped me develop my hearing very well, and it also taught me how to differentiate between certain sounds and their distances, which gives quite the advantage on the Battlefield. Finally, after what felt like another few hours, my vision became blurry and my mind drifted off, while my eyelids fell down heavily. I welcomed the long awaited, though unexpected sleep even though I knew that I would barely get more than a little nap before tomorrow morning. A cart would come and get me as early as possible to bring me back to the palace, since there was a ceremony I absolutely had to attend no matter what. There were some thoughts swirling in my head about trying to skip that thing just so I could get a little more of the much deserved sleep that came and went as it pleased. Only very few nights I was able to control it partially and most of the time, that meant a few hours of induced sleep which was filled with restlessness and Nightmares. I was so used to it by now though that I didn't really feel tired at all anymore, only after a week or so of barely closing my eyes I had to let the Nightmares win for a few hours. For Appearances, I usually try to get an three hours of sleep every two days, so that I don't look too tired in public, but that doesn't always work. Most of the time it's panic attacks that kept me from even trying to close my eyes, since they occured regularly due to the nightmares combined with the memories that were being shoved into my brain when I tried to sleep. The attempts to push those fears down always proved to be not only difficult but dangerous as well, seeing as it would only make the next panic attack way worse, which was something I wanted to avoid. By now, I wouldn't even have wondered if somebody came in and told me to get back up, but I was glad that nobody did, and I finally fell into a deep, restless sleep for the first time in three days. It was spiked with Nightmares and horrifying images that haunted me even in the moments I was awake, but I somehow pulled through and stayed asleep for the rest of the night. Even with my body drenched in sweat while tossing and turning with the hopes of getting rid of these repeating images.