I felt so tired, the first time I became aware.
I felt the jostling buckle of the transport underneath me. The itchiness of my old uniform, clung to my skin using the numerous belt lock magics of my homeland. I did, have a homeland. Lilium. It meant Love in our language.
I slowly tilted my blue eyes up past the drappings of silver hair over my face. I remember why our commander had us moving via transports instead of portals. Unity. Bond building. Solidarity. Was that, what this looked like?
I let my gaze drift around the hangar. Open chains holding extra flame lancers and spare potion jars for the casters in the squad. We were a four man squad, with our commander in the drivers seat. The transport was painted like home. Black and purple decor in long, detail murals of old battles. My squadmates were a motley crew, or maybe I was the strange one.
The transport rumbled, making the long robed mage of our squad grunt. A horned arathan demon from Arntha who wore the black and violet of an apprentice. Her draconic horns poked through the hood, and I could see fangs between her orange lips. "Damn Sergent needs driving lessons." Her voice was grating and full of soot.
"Haha!" A burly man cackled with a rocky voice full of gravel. He wore full armor, purple regalia of our knight unit. His visible mouth beneath the dragon maw of a helmet was full of crooked teeth and too much spit with the snout of a pig. A glushtonan, he was from Garush. "The serge ain't ever driven straight in he's life!"
The last chuckled dryly as she tweaked all the mana-readibg gear. A backpack bursting eith wires connected to a fairy sized woman barely bigger than my palm, with wings full of holes and redhair tucked back in a bun behind the oddly pale skin of her face. "Ya, sooner get Crow there to lajgh."
"Ha." I chuckled dryly, making all of tjem snap their heads towards me.
...
...
...
"BAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Private does hot jokes!"
"Good to see you up kid."
"Aye! Get over here so I can check your come.
My voice was... higher than I expected. I stood, following her orders. Reflexively, I knelt down and stripped my gear down as she checked it over. "Geez kid. What, kinda shitbthey uses in the Chateau?"
"Whatcha mean Gav?" The burly man lumbered across the metal ground. "Boy's first feet on the ground with open eyes, can't be packed with anythin too strange."
"He is from House Lilium itself." The mature woman said, walking as soldiers only could in a rhythm to the bouncing transport, hand swinting from chain, hanging belt, or random rope for support as she moved over. "Noble blood."
"My name is..." I hesitated for a moment. Gav didn't notice. The burly man was picking his ear, but the mage caught it. "Syncrow."
"Hm. Name says Syncrowin, but that does sound pretty dull." Gav remarked. "Geez. What they expect you to take? A fireball right to the face in a fight and walk away? Greta, look at this."
Both knelt down as I sat back with a hand against a chain, taking in everything, including my own memories. I was fourteen. I was being shipped off to a civil war between Hubri and Aratha, as an ally soldier from Lilium.
They just didn't know what it was the Lady Abyssa had sent them. It would be a short war.
The klaxon rang near the small window separating the sergent and I. Gav threw my gear at me while she quickly turned and began to access the flood of reports hitting her coms. Greta turned and nearly glued herself to the side window as her horns ignited with runes.
"Magicky types. Amirite?" The burly man punched my shoulder, blinking and then laughing whennit ached as I finished requiping my own uniform. "Lets show em what we muscle types do, aye?" He nudged me with a grin, which I returned as we stood by the back door of the transport. "Break a leg, Crow."
"I intend to break many."
"Ha! I like yhis kid!"
"Opening in 5. 4. 3."
"Don't get killed you two, wouldja?" Greta shot us a look.
"I promise."
"No promises!"
The door began to open with a loud, clanging pang as the sound of erupting spells and armies clashing began to more vividly bleed through.
"GONNA GET ME A DAMN MANTLE PIECE!"
"Yuvo, wait-"
We both leapt as the door hit the dirt, landing in the smoke and dust kicked up across the arathan soil. I felt different, again. I felt... energized. My feet darted across the ground so quickly, sprinting felt natural. If Yuvo was with me, I had stopped noticing.
I moved more like a ghost than a soldier. Fast, silent. Across long, black fields of exploding blasts, skies turned black from smoke, swirling, chaotic magic, and powers able to levels whole mountains, I had to be fast. With flamelance in hand, I dove toward the flank, and I heard a crash fourty meters away that couldn't have been anything but Yuvo landing with me.
I struck a shieldman first. He turned with hjs tower shield, gleaming gold with the deer like antlers painted across it, raised to deflect me. I could see his movements, though. I could pause them, pause everything, too. I did not freeze time, more time of the mind. I watched him for.. perhaps an hour, in that state, watching every detail of his guard. Perhaps... I wasted my time.
My spear split right through his horned, gleaming helmet and into the helmet of his fellow, before twisting and tossing their bodies like a lever. I intended to knock down a line as I felt several spears bear down on me. Instead, my spear tore like a crescent from their skulls and into a dozen more. Glowing, molten gold remained as a whole company turned at the bark of their commander.
"COUNTER FLANK!" He turned his entire army toward Yuvo and I. What... is he doing...?
I jumped away as I heard my position bombarded first by the sudden shieldwall charge that came just for me, then the following, crushing mass of an about twenty ton granite rock dropped by Greta a second ago. I felt myself almost smile. Then, I smelled it. It dripped off my spear. The iron smell that was filled with salt and dripping with something... more. As the scent hint my nose, all I could hear was a word barreling down the back of my mind like a lance all its own, and twide as hot. It began like a whisper, and turned into a roar.
wi...
wick...
wicked
wicked.
Wicked.
Wicked.
WICKED.
BLEED THE WICKED.
Everything faded after that. I saw red. I saw... things. Yet, it didn't feel like my hands doing them anymore. I saw flesh, metal, cloth and bone torn around me. Shields crumpled. Bodies ripped like paper between my hands. It smelled so... good.
And then, I woke up. I was sprawled out quietly against a rock, panting deeply, shakily as I began to lift my head. I drew a long gulp as I tried to make the buzz in my head stop. It was ringing, maddening, a line of sharp pulsing pain like a popping seam reaching from brainstem to forehead. I wish that was the worst.
"Kid... you.. ok?" Yuvo asked, but his voice was scared now. It trembled a little. I could hear the slowing rumble of the transport followed by the hiss of the side door opening. Greta's boots hit the ashen soil quickly, followed soon after by the fluttery sounds of Gav.
Yet, they stopped a few feet from me. I saw why. The battle had been won. It might be disrespectful to say it was even a battle anymore. Thousands of bodies torn to pieces laid in front of me. There was the distant sound of spellfire, but there was no breathing Hubrian for miles now.
Greta gulped quietly, approaching me directly first. "Private... " I could taste how she was afraid of me.
Bleed. Bleed her. BLEED THEM ALL.
"Are, you okay?" Her words cut through the ache like a fine silver blade.
"I, uhm. I have a headache." I said, nervously. It was quiet for half a heartbeat, and then Yuvo let out a belly laugh that made all my growing worries fade.
"HAHAAAAA! Ohhhh, girls, we may be Lilian, but that?" He punched my shoulder, much to Greta's fussing, as she helped me stand. "That was Arathan. You got a warrior's heart, kid."
"Let us ensure that stays a warriors. Not a beasts." Greta checked Yuvo, who rubbed his neck with a sheepish, crooked grin.
"Aye. Probably good idea." He grinned, grabbing my flamelance for me as we began to head to the transport. I felt weak, dizzy, and I think I had a few spearheads in my right arm, but... I did not feel... unwanted.
Yuvo was making jokes or reliving some of what he was already calling the killcam highlights. Greta was ignoring him, talking to me about how I felt. Gav was grumbling about the mess, but seconds after handing the equipment over she was fixated again. Greta took time to ply the broken spear heads out, but she did seem surprised when my wounds shut so quickly.
"Hm. Just, what are you, Private Syncrow?"
"... I am not sure."
"... Well. Then I guess that just means you are one of us, now."
"Damn right!"
"Squad strong." A quick practiced clap from Gav to follow-up. It gave us all a warm chuckle as the transport rumbled underfoot towards either a camp or the next fight. I was eager for the next fight, but, I also understood something now. Bleeding, hurting, and confused, these three were still here.
So, this is Solidarity.