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The wave of the white flag hung in every soldier's mind that afternoon. The enemies ride out salvaging their fallen comrades' bodies. The sound of mens shouting war chants, and the smell of blood and sweat filled Zenix’ senses. Clouds rumble overhead, it always rains in spring. Had we really won this battle in seemingly a never ending war? “Garroth.. we did it!” Zenix turns his head to meet the steady gaze of his mentor, nay, his brother who was always by his side. “Garroth?” The only thing around were bloodied men, many he hardly even knew.
Garroth was always near, Zenix brushed off the feeling of panic and walked closer to the pavilion towards the cluster of a crowd. Men shouting and laughing “We’ve won!” A whirl of nameless faces he hardly even knew. None of them are him, he starts asking around. Many don’t even know him, in this army you don’t try to make friends, everyone you cared for will get slaughtered anyways. Everyone but Garroth, his brother, his only family. it didn’t matter to them that they weren’t blood, a familial bond strung them together with the force of the war against them. Hundreds of men swarm around, none of them are him. Where is he? Zenix thrashes in his own mind. Whipping around to examine everyone he faces. Pushing past man after man in clad armor drunk on victory, not yet doomed by the death and casualties inflicted.
After several minutes of shoving, yelling, and confusion Zenix forced himself to recount the last place he had seen Garroth, during the final raid, but hell that was hours ago. He looks towards the horizon, examining the terrain. He starts a steady walk, he sees men from both armies, bloodied, dead, almost dead. Some begged for mercy, some begged for relief. Some yelled out and reached to Zenix for help. He ignored them all tunnel vision blocked these men out of his mind. These men, soldiers like him, boys, men, fathers, sons, uncles, brothers. A sinking feeling of dread sunk in, he began a quick jog forcing his exhausted and scared mind to just think. He feels like a child, a tired, lonely, scared child, nothing really changed in the war it just seemed like it did. He was still a scared child clutching to his childhood. The rain had started at dusk, drenching everything and making the blood of the dead or dying soldiers blood soak through the grass through the battle ground.
The sun passed the horizon, he forced to flip these dead men to face him so Zenix could examine their pale faces in the dull moonlight of the early night sky through the clouds sat a gibbous moon, the moon and the stars were the only way Zenix could ever tell the months and years apart from each other.
The dull sky turns from a deep purple to pitch black quickly, Zenix could tell through his own mind fog. He’d been searching for Garroth for hours, *had he been searching as well?*
His muscles screamed at him, years of war day after day. It didn’t phase him, he was a soldier. He had to find Garroth he couldn’t bear to lose the only family he had. He called his name, till his voice was hoarse and raw. The wind howled, the rain fell in a steady beat, cold against his heated, red, exhausted face.
“Fuck.. fuck. Please.” He shouted for the Gods. He’s stumbling, tripping over his own feet, soaked rocks, dead men, he’s desperate. He turns over every corpse searching. He met the face of hundreds of dead men that night. He falls to the ground and loathes himself for it, he doesn’t have time to waste in self pity. He sinks to the ground letting the cold rush over him. “Please” he mumbled looking up at the sky through the dark clouds. He thinks back to everything they went through together and everything they had lost together, he couldn’t give up. He pushes himself up and forces his trembling legs to walk again.
He stumbles over to another seemingly lifeless body slumped over, positioned away from him against a large rock. His head tilted towards the sky. The moon is beautiful tonight. Zenix can only see the top of his head at his blond hair, the familiar metal helm tossed away. He stumbles forward towards the rock, knees weak, exhausted… searching for hours his armor only served to rub his skin raw. He catches his hands against the rock tumbling forward to his knees knocking them against the stone scratching his knee pads. The man with moonlit blond hair with light highlighted ends, messily dusted with dirt tangled in. The man’s face was soft despite being wrinkled in pain.
“Garroth..?” Zenix scrambles to kneel in-front of him. His hands pressed a large wound on his ribs. A stab wound, right through his ribs. The man gasps only slightly and gently opens his eyes, “Zenix.” A light smile caresses his face. “Listen you’ll be ok, let’s get you laying down ok? when did this happen?” Garroth just gives him a half smile and closes his eyes again in a light painful flinch as Zenix gently lays him down. “Talk to me Garroth, please. We won the battle it’s over.” Zenix says slowly trying to hide his shaking sobs. silently thanking the Gods for the rain because it hid his tear stricken face, guards don’t cry after all.
Zenix brushed the stray pieces of hair out of Garroths face. He put one hand on Garroths shoulder and the other over his wound to apply pressure making him flinch.
He glanced up for only a second to notice the bloodstream against the rock. The reality of the situation hit him like the blunt end of a sword, the wound went all the way through his body. Through his lungs. Blood filled his lungs, and spilled over the rain-covered earth and flowed like a river down the hill.
Garroth’s pain stricken labored breath pulled Zenix back to earth. He opened his mouth and all that came out was a painful gasp and then a labored hoarse cough that shook his whole body and made his eyes squeeze shut.. his body almost curl up in agony.
Garroth's face relaxes slightly; he turns his face towards Zenix looming under him. The pale moon slightly illuminates his features. He slowly opens his steady deep blue eyes. Slowly and shakily he brings his hand up to Zenix’s face and gently wipes his tears then brings his hands up to his short dark hair. “Garroth please man, you’ll be ok.” Garroth gently opens his mouth once more, “you’ll become the best of us.” He whispers in a raspy uneven voice. His hand slowly slips from Zenix’s face back down to his side. He rolls his head towards the rain soaked landscape. “Don’t say that Garroth, please… come on, I can help you!” Zenix starts applying pressure to his wounds to stop the bleeding, it was futile, the damage was already underway. Garroths body tenses up.
Zenix starts an uneven melody humming gently, to distract him. The same melody that Garroth used to hum to him through long sleepless shifts. His humming cut by a violent sob, Garroth didn’t seem to mind. A gentle smile graces his face, softening his strong features in a soft merciful lullaby.
He slowly turns his head back to Zenix… in a gentle good night he shuts his eyes, his body relaxes, his uneven breathing stops, he looks happy.. calmer than Zenix had ever seen him. Everything still for a moment as Zenix ’s world shatters. “No, no, no! Please, this wasn’t supposed to happen!” He grips Garroths uniform as violent sobs rack through his body; the only response he got was a lull of his head against his chest. It seems the heavens split for a moment at the force of his violent heaves. He screams, he thrashes at Garroths now rapid cooling body. His sobs resonate in his soul. He cries until he feels sick.
His mentor, his family, his brother, was gone. Tears stung his eyes, the force of his sobs caused him to vomit, but it’s quickly washed away in the rain down the hill mixing with Garroths watered blood.
“I’ll bury you, I promise you I’ll set your soul free.” He says through choked wails. The blood slips so easily into the downhill stream. He unsteadily gets up sobs still washing over him like a wave each one stronger then the next. He attempts to pick up Garroths body, he uses all of his force to pull his lifeless body from the cold earth. It only takes a few seconds till he falls back to the soaked landscape. A sob shakes his body once more, he collapses on top of Garroths chest and cries till his broken mind stops, and his sobs don’t shake him anymore. He no longer felt the rain strike his skin, and he falls claim to the defeat of exhaustion.