Echoes of Ossian
We were back again.
Our fates, tangled together like the roots of a tree, twisting and pulling each other down.
Solan took a step toward Cain, his hand outstretched, a silent plea. I could see it in his eyes—he knew what was coming. He could feel the weight of Cain's presence, too. But he didn't look afraid. He just looked tired.
Tired of fighting.
Cain stepped stepped forward, my voice shaking with the weight of everything he had been carrying for so long. "Retreat!" he called out again, more desperately this time. The soldiers still hesitated, looking back at Cain, unsure whether to obey me or continue the fight. Hiscommand was clear.
I looked back at Solan, my heart pounding in my chest.
Cain's gaze locked onto mine, and I could feel the curse we shared burning between us. He stepped forward, his soldiers lowering their weapons, their expressions uncertain but obedient.
His voice was cold, steady, and it echoed over the battlefield like a death sentence. "Enough."
The word rang out, and in that moment, the battlefield stilled. Time seemed to stretch, the air thick with tension. The soldiers around me paused in disbelief, looking from me to Cain, unsure what to do, unsure who to follow.
He stepped forward, his soldiers lowering their weapons, their expressions uncertain but obedient.
And then, with the finality of a man who had seen too much, Cain raised his hand.
"The war ends here." His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of every death, every decision, and every ounce of suffering that had built this moment.
His voice didn't just command. It demanded.
And in that moment, every soldier, on both sides, knew that the war was over. Not because of anything I had done, but because he—Cain—had made the decision. He had decided that enough was enough. No more bloodshed. No more lives lost in a senseless conflict.
But even as the soldiers began to retreat, even as the battlefield shifted from chaos to uneasy stillness, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
Cain had ended the war. He did what I couldn't ever done. He had power but that was not all.
Before leaving, he turned to us. His gaze was intense, piercing through the distance that separated us. It wasn't a look of victory, nor of defeat—it was something deeper. As if he wanted to ask us something, something unspoken, yet heavy with meaning. His lips parted for a moment, but no words came. The question, whatever it was, lingered in the air, caught between us like a fragile thread.
Was he wondering if peace was truly possible? Or perhaps he sought forgiveness, understanding even. Maybe he was simply asking himself what all of this destruction had been for.
For a brief moment, the battlefield felt smaller. We were no longer enemies, but men standing on the same broken ground, searching for meaning in the ashes of war.
Without another word, he turned away, the weight of the unasked question still hanging over us.
He didn't look at me again. He didn't have to. I saw the pain in his eyes, the same emptiness that I had worn for so long.
We watched as he and his soldiers disappeared into the distance, their footsteps fading into the horizon.
In the silence that followed, the sky seemed too vast, too empty, as if even the world was unsure of what came next. The war was over, but the scars it left behind were far from healed.
The war was over, and with it, my personal battle reached its conclusion. He stood by my side to witness the end. The radiant sun, which had been absent for so long, bathed us in its brilliance, and I felt a sense of return from the depths of those dark days.
Under the night's canopy, the moon and the sun shared the sky as equals, it was the spring equinox. The moment held particular significance, marking the promise of our reunion.
Exhaustion had taken its toll on me, both mentally and physically. Every part of me throbbed with pain, beyond my control. In that radiant light, I succumbed to unconsciousness, finally finding respite.
We remained in that place for a week before our departure. It was at that time that I realized that we may never meet again after that, the only thing that binds us together was the war. I couldn't do nothing about it, if he was everything for me, I was nothing to him, just another soldier.
We returned to the kingdom as triumphant heroes. Despite the passage of time, I remained a younf=g man in appearance, even though I had experienced more years than that. As I entered the palace, some of the guards gave me odd looks, seemingly uncertain if I truly belonged among the soldiers. However, the wounds that adorned my body were irrefutable evidence.
We made our way into the royal court, where a ceremony commenced, intermittently extolling our valor.
Speeches praised our efforts to defend our homeland, emphasizing that it was our duty to protect our land, our family, and our way of life. But truth be told, I remained indifferent.
As the ceremony ended, the king paid tribute to the fallen soldiers and honored our families with wealth and respect. While awaiting my turn, I observed fathers embracing their sons, some shedding tears of disbelief that their loved ones had returned alive, unharmed, and safe.
I watched my father slowly approach, brimming with such intense hatred that if he could, he might have ended my life right then and there. I felt as though I shouldn't have survived, and that death would have been a preferable fate. I had tried so hard, but it seemed I had failed.
Troubling me even more, he didn't cast a single glance my way as he walked right past me, eager to speak with the king. As he concluded his conversation, I began to trail behind him, with nowhere else to turn. Perhaps, I thought, I could somehow make amends for my actions. But then he abruptly turned and uttered words that shattered the last remnant of my being.
"It would have been far more honorable and prestigious for our family if you had died there. Don't ever think of coming back. You're worth nothing to us. You'll only be a burden."
I was no longer wanted. I left before the ceremony's end; there was nothing left for me there. My mind felt foggy as I wandered aimlessly through the vast city, consumed by emptiness.
Those harsh words replayed endlessly in my mind. What was the point of it all? I began to laugh hysterically, realizing my uselessness. It appears I'd been discarded and abandoned, and all ambition had left me.
I was alone once again.
As I sat, attempting to make sense of it all, I wondered if I might have been the true enemy. Perhaps I had been in the wrong and that's why I was cursed. I longed for someone to take my heart and shatter it, to end my wretched existence.
This could be the end for me, condemned to an endless, purposeless existence where even death was futile.
A shadow had been trailing me, though I'd noticed it earlier and assumed it was a figment of my imagination, war was over, was it?
That what I thought before I encountered him in a dim backstreet, where he appeared to have been waiting for me. I couldn't piece together what had transpired on that day.
With dark thoughts clouding my mind, I no longer cared.
What was the purpose of resistance, of fighting for anything? Maybe I had served my purpose, maybe it was the moment for me to find a long lasting rest.
I saw the glint of his sword approaching me, and I closed my eyes. I considered letting him end my life, but I knew it wouldn't truly help. I was falling apart, teetering on the brink of insanity, with nothing left in my chest but a void. I was hoping I wouldn't wake up again this time.
You see, I was also a victim, but no one ever treated me as such; I was cast as the villain in this narrative, the Soldier in black Armor, the Death of the battlefield, many names that was forced upon me. All I wanted was for him to look back when I called his name. I was just a child, but no one ever treated me as such.
But why? Why should I have to die when I can be the one to end them? In this life, I had to bring it to an end. I was afraid of myself, and I hated it. It wasn't what I wanted, and I no longer knew what I desired. I couldn't endure it any longer, and I fell to my knees, burdened by the weight of it all.
Though I had buried my troubles momentarily, I felt like I didn't belong, and I wished for a fresh start, a chance to sleep and awaken only when I was older without any of those demons haunting my mind. I had truly tried my best, yet I doubted whether it would ever be enough.
Resigned to my fate, I gazed upward, the pain serving as a reminder that I was still alive.
I gazed skyward and encountered the sun in the heavens. All I could think of were his warm eyes, a shelter from the harsh reality that was my slow and agonizing existence. I missed him deeply.
It seemed I'd be missing him forever, much like the sun misses the moon and stars in the night sky.
However, I couldn't dwell on these thoughts any longer. Resigning myself from my somber contemplations, I attempted to evade an oncoming sword. Unfortunately, I moved too slowly, and while I was injured, it wasn't a mortal wound. Still, I fled, escaping from my assassin, though I was too fatigued to fight and hadn't yet recovered from my previous battle wounds.
I rushed towards the bustling road, hoping that someone would take notice, someone would help me. But who was I fooling, no one cared. The assassin's blade pierced right through me from behind, causing excruciating pain.
No matter how many times I endured it, the pain remained unbearable.
I'd had enough. I knew I was about to endure it all over again. Yet, with a smile on my face, I left those around me bewildered, their confused stares betraying the truth—they knew what was coming for me. But who would risk their life for someone who meant nothing to them? Unlike me, they had only one life, precious and irreplaceable, tied to those they loved.
Me?
I had nothing. Nothing left to lose, and maybe, nothing left to care for. If I had finally gone mad, just another broken soldier returning from war, I wasn't even sure myself.
With what I thought was my final breath—or perhaps just a laugh, I couldn't tell the difference anymore—I died.
Only to open my eyes once again, consumed by rage, suffering, and an anger so deep it felt like it had swallowed everything else.