Was is worth it...all this tragedy. All this blood. Corpses...people never to be seen, or loved, again. Was this war worth all this..? I used to think that...but seeing the blood shed, smelling the rotting corpses, some unknown, some my friends, littering the battlefield before me. It keeps making me ask myself....
Was becoming a warrior worth it?
It used to be a pathetic dream of mine. To become the world's strongest warrior, to save humanity from the enemies lurking in it. Every day, I would run around, wearing a bucket on my head like a fool, screaming 'charge!' Or 'for Roland!' I felt like a goddess then...back before I knew what it was like to be outside the gates. On the battlefield.
The dream stuck with me as I grew, sometimes making me act as a child, others giving me strength to win a lousy street fight. That's how this whole mess started. It was because of those words...the words that haunt me even now.
The words of a dead man.
