When Victory Still Bleeds
The sun was really high up, in the sky now. It looked pale. It was shining down on the city with no kindness at all. The city was badly. It was the capital.
The sunlight poured into the courtyard washing the stones in a weird yellow color that made the blood look even darker where it had soaked in. The white marble was really messed up. It was cracked, burned and smeared with blood, which was proof of what had gone down. The fight was over. All the craziness had finally stopped. There was no sound of swords hitting each other. There were no screams. The battle was done. The only sounds you could hear were the noises that came after a big fight. There was the sound of boots scraping against stones and rocks. You could also hear the noise of armor being taken off like the clink of metal. The voices of the soldiers were really quiet as they counted how many people were still alive and how many had died. The soldiers were counting the living and the dead.
