Soldier

CHAPTER FOUR.

.......... I felt it shelter to speak to you_ Emily Dickinson....

"Go soldiers! Go and conquer. You go there and lay the head of that bastard at the feet of your mothers. Show her you dare not allow him soil her land." The war commander roared at the warriors as they all shouted and ran to the battlefield in rage.

"Kill them all! Kill them all!" He yelled after them, in hope to make their thirst for blood more.
The hungry warriors ran down to the battlefield, colliding with their adversary. It was well-known that this war wouldn't end soon.
 
Behold, away from the killing and anger, in a small white tent, two seemed to be in their own battle.
"Get your head in the game, Axel!" He growled.

"The people out there know what they really need." Axel barked back.
"Stop fooling yourself, boy. There will be no end to this war if you keep acting as though you were a thumb-sucking child."

"They started it in the first place, General." He paused, taking his sword sheath from the rack, "If they want war, they 'ave asked for it from the right person."

"Listen to me, Axel. They need you and you know that.", The general said in a more tender voice.
"A truthful leader, General, that is what they need and the moment I see no one fitting." , He turned away from the General and started to leave.
"You would not dare to do it now, son, would you?", the general asked quietly, stopping him right in his tracks.

"I would not do what?" He said under his breath.
"You wouldn't kill your own father, would you, Axel?", General asked again.
Axel drew in a deep breath, stood firmly at the exit and said with pure hatred and malice burning in his olive green eyes,

"If I have to, General, I will...without hesitation."

And with that, he exited the tent.

★.                                                       ★.                                          ★.

Out of breath, he finally woke up in a sudden rush, bathed in his own sweat. His eyes were wide enough to pop out, his entire body was tensed.

He remembered. Although he had woken earlier, nothing of sorts came to his mind. He remembered how he ended up in the fields. He remembered this eyes.

Blue, they were, the one that appeared in the sky on a cloudless happy day.

The angel.

The one whose hand he held tightly. He had thought he was dead.

What will a man like me be doing in heaven anyways, he thought sadly.

He slowly eased back into the comfortable bed he was on, his sight was clear now, he gently turned his head sideways, having his eyes lay on a dame. 

She stood beside the wooden wardrobe with a bowl in her small hands. 

"You had a nightmare?" Her question came out as a gentle statement. He groaned painfully to her question. His wound still hurt but not as much as they did before.
"You don't have to say a word." She said as she got up from where she sat and sat down on the bed by his legs.

"Mother made some soup for you. She said it should help with the pain." She removed the lid from the bowl she held. The delicious aroma of the soup immediately filled his nose and his mouth salivated. "You should not sleep on an empty stomach."

He studied her face so well as though he was lost between those long eyelashes and those arctic blue eyes of hers. Her silky and straight jet black bob hair gently parted on her small head. Her pointed nose and her thin lips, which had a tiny but obvious birthmark just an inches above it, added more features to innocent face. He studied her so well that he finally placed her face.