Music
Battle after battle both sides fought to a stalemate. More often than not, Draco's side, the west would occupy an eastern territory only to lose one of their own. Like two wrestlers in a championship contest, their bout made both sides weary.
It was now evening. The stars shone like fireflies. He lay in his tent, his body a catalogue of aches and ailments. His arms felt as though they were being compressed in a vise. The muscles in his legs were tangled in several knots. With each breath he drew in, Draco could feel the bruises throb. In spite of his weariness, Draco was unable to sleep. Tomorrow would be the big push. The East would have to come through the Gilbraithe Valley in order to conquer the West. It was there that Draco's forces would sweep in and purge their land of the East. It was risky to say the least. If they were to fail, the Western capitol would sit like a ripe fruit, fresh on the vine to be plucked.
Although he needed to focus on the morrow's bout, Draco's thoughts did drift.
To what though? What was so critical as to remove his thoughts from task at hand?
A smile as bright as the silvery moon came into mind. It was followed by eyes which gleamed like the stars. A countenance pleasant and fair as the azaelas which grew so abundantly in the Western braes. Hair luxuriant, golden like the dawn entered into his thoughts.
She wore a lavish yet simple dress white as wool trimmed with yellow, like the sun shining gently upon Christmas snow. A ribbon sat in her hair like a mockingbird flying through streams of sunlight.
'Maria'
'Yes Draco'
He hesitated. 'We both know what could happen. I just want you to know' Draco paused. He took in a couple of breaths before he continued, but found himself unable to.
'I know. I know'
They stood within each others embrace, making no sounds save for the beating of their hearts.
Their backs were two days march from their home. No retreat would be called.
Is she safe? Is she waiting? Came to the forefront of his thoughts.
The wind moaned through the valley. The pass was no wider than the neck of a bottle. His unit would be the vanguard. They'd hold onto the pass through the duration of the battle. One hour, one day, one year, no matter. They would not fold.
As they held a unit would sweep down both walls of the valley into the center of the Eastern forces. A fourth unit would descent upon them from the rear.
The ground began to tremble, subtly at first, but with every passing breath, the rumbling augmented like a slowly crecendoing drum roll. Torches flickered up ahead menacingly like the scornful glare of a school yard bully.
Sunlight swung into the valley, laying a warm carpet of gold. Suits of armor grew larger every second. The light seemed to leap off of it.
The rumbling grew as loud as a cannonade. Rocks leapt from the valley walls, almost deliberately.
The rumbling became so intense Draco's thoughts were drowned out.
Save one.
Elsewhere a younger, shorter, less scarred Draco was on the path, taking two of his family's prized cattle to market. Up ahead in the distance, he saw an extravagant carriage being held up by a band of highwaymen. Draco tied his cattle to a tree and darted into the high grass which flanked the road. He did not even stop to consider an alternative method of aid. He prowled forward like a lion in the Serengeti. Draco picked up a fallen tree limb. Along the way, he grabbed whatever stones he could find.
As expected, the highwaymen were too busy with the carriage to even notice what lay in the knolls. Draco peered out of the grass, remaining as low as possible. One came into his scope. He popped up and fired a rock, and ducked back into the grass. When the bandit came over to investigate, Draco smashed the tree limb into his neck.
The other two took no heed of their fallen comrade. When another one came around to Draco's side, he did him in with a well placed stone. He then crept from out of the grass, clutching fast onto his lumber until his knuckles bleached white. Draco crouched low like a predator stalking a scavenger. His heart raced like a front running greyhound. His palms leaked of sweat. He kept his breaths low and staccato.
On the other side of the carriage was the last highwayman. Draco watched his shadow in anticipation of his next action. The shadow grew longer to his left. Draco moved to converge. He kept his footfalls soft and light. In contrast the thief’s steps grew heavier and louder.
Draco sprang forward like an arrow and swung for the fences. His arms resonated from the impact as his tree limb broke in half. He recovered soon enough to see the highwayman surging towards him sword drawn. Draco slid left, as the blade ran upon his arm. He shot forward and planted the reaming half of the branch beneath the robber's jaw. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground in a vicious thud.
He stopped and drank in air voraciously. It took Draco a few measures for his heart to return close to its normal pace.
'Everyone alright in there?' Called Draco. It's safe to come out now it is.'
The door opened wearily. Within the carriage sat the driver, a woman, and her daughter.
'To what brave soul do we owe the honor of our rescue?' inquired the woman.
'Me I suppose.' His voice quivered as did his hands as he reached out to accept hers.
'What is your name young hero?'
'Draco Madam'
'Draco, such a heroic name!' He smiled, still a bit anxious. 'I am Karita and this is my daughter Maria.'
'Thank you Draco.' Maria smiled serenely. As soon as her hand came into his, Draco's quivering ceased. His heart which had calmed a bit, suddenly shot into orbit. He looked into her eyes, green like the dew soaked meadows of an April morning. They held a relief and gratitude that was worth more than a mountain of gold. Her smile was as bright as an aurora, and all the sudden him jumping carelessly into the fray made sense.
The enemy bore into a full charge. Beside Draco, the standard bearer bellowed a fierce battle cry. The rest of the unit chimed in creating a cacophonous throng. Draco pointed his sword forward.
The unit surged forth, swift as cyclonic gale, their feet weightless. Draco was unaware that his knuckles began to flush ivory, His bruises and his wounds vanished with each step. With each step his sword grew thirsty. With each step his teeth clung tighter. His eyes narrowed and burned with rage.
When Draco's unit was not six feet from their adversary, the front lines of eastern infantry dropped. Chocobos armed like tanks, bore riders wielding spears long as trees.
Draco saw the banner fall from his peripheral vision. The chocobos ate through his unit like acid.
One charged at him. Draco sidestepped like a boxer, and mowed its legs out from under it. Another converged. Draco met it head on he plunged his sword into the chest of his attacking adversary. He pulled his blade out quickly, spun about and slashed the throat of another chocobo.
The Eastern infantry swept in like a plaque of locusts following a tornado.
'Hold firm men! Hold firm!'
The rest of the army swept onto the enemy. One unit closed off the rear, as two others came down from each wall of the valley. If what remained of Draco's unit could hold, the day would be theirs. They fought like animals protecting their den from a horde of predators.
A volley of arrows, so thick the sun was veiled, filled the sky. Draco stood against the hail, resolute, defiant. After the initial volley subsided, he arose and lowered his shield and began to wade through the seemingly endless thicket of Eastern forces. He started out in a full blown sprint, as he cut a swath through the opposition. His troops were unable to follow, for as soon as one fell, it seemed two more came to fill the void. Another barrage of arrows filled the sky. He ducked beneath his shield. Not wanting to squander any momentum Draco arose again. what was once a full dead sprint was now a trudge. The farther he plunged into the enemy, the less potent was his sword's sting; the heavier grew his feet.
His surroundings faded away into the sides as he continued fighting. He was even unaware that his sword broke.
In a clear, almost melodic voice, Draco called out
'Oh Maria!, Hear my voice! How I long to be with you!'
Translator: Ted Woosley
Story Editor: Julie J. Ogles
Photos Courtesy of Lillith Morrigan
Adapted by: Aaron V.F. PICAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!