𝒱𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝐿𝒶 𝑅é𝓋𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 || Wilbur Soot

01 - Skirmish

"Flank left!" The smoke from TNT drifted through the air. Explosions rang through the valleys and you felt confident that you were winning. You and your battalion were sent out on the terms of a small uprising in the south. You've noticed for the past few months, more and more uprisings had been spotted in random villages of Essemp.

Horses whinnies of pain and the thudding of their hooves on the ground was in tune with the drumming of your heartbeat. As animal cries were heard all around, you trudged on.

"Not right!" You screamed into the grey void, seeing the shadows of your troops running about. "Left! Flank left!" A cry to your right caught your attention but you had to keep going. The injured would care for themselves, and you hoped the rebellion knew it was cruel to harm an unarmed man.

Through the dust you could see the outline of a waving flag. The familiar green seemed welcoming in the colorless abyss. You dismounted your trusted steed and dove into the trenches below.

A body was pressed right up against yours and had it not been for the breathing in your ear you would've thought they were dead. You still rolled to your left off of the person and they let out a heaving sigh. Familiar brown hair and eyes was enough to have you recognize who you crash-landed on.

"How are we looking out there," Wilbur groaned, rubbing his rib cage where you possibly elbowed him.

"Not good no thanks to you," You glared and smacked his chest. The young man gave a look of pure shock and sat up.

"What do you mean 'no thanks to me'!" He whined, "I recall being absolutely amazing out there and saving your ass from being shot!"

"You're the reason we are here in this situation!" You reached for a chest sunken into the dirt and pulled out a new crossbow. "Had it not been for your quick draw of a sword and temper, we could be riding back to the palace before dinner."

An explosion in the distance caused you to cease your movements and drop the arrows out of your grasp. You fumbled around for them as a blond soldier next to the two of you laughed.

"She have a point there, Wilbur!"

"Oh shut it, Grayson!" Wilbur snapped at the man before grabbing his own bow and arrow. "Don't pretend you didn't reach for your crossbow when their scum of a leader refused to meet with us."

"And You need to watch your temper," You scolded while loading your quiver with more arrows. "A good General keeps their head cool and doesn't let small comments get the better of them."

"Oh, like how your pride doesn't take a swan dive off a cliff every time someone insults your family?"

"There's a difference between plain insulting and insulting my heritage." You stood up quickly, checking to see if you could spot any enemy advancement through the smoke, before ducking back down as an arrow flew over your head. "When someone runs their mouth, not even directed at you, might I add, you light up faster than a bundle of TNT."

Wilbur snorted at Your comment but made no further argument. He jumped up as well to check and quickly flattened back to the ground.

"Once I retire and you take my place," You continued on, knocking an arrow and firing blindly out into the field. "You need to be the best leader there is in Essemp." You looked over at Wilbur with a slight smile. "That is of course, if you don't lose your head before then."

"Wow, you really think the way I'd go out would be decapitation?" Wilbur questioned in mock-pain. "You wound me, Y/n, at least hold me to a higher standard." He started firing arrows as well. following suit of blind aim. There was only a short pause before He mumbled, "Actually decapitation would be better than getting blown up."