Cold Hands and Sunrise

I proved them all wrong!

Yet still, that little medal cannot encompass the desolation that surrounds me. I take a faltering step. Then another. And another. I am walking, spinning round and calling for my friends.

"Trantis! Avan! Commander! I'm here, I'm here!"

But there is an eerie lack of response. Only cold white faces watching me pass. In mounting rage, I kick out at one of the fallen enemies and he rolls limply onto his side with a crunch of armour. At once, I regret it. Though I cannot think why. I was singing with them, when the army broke into song. We'll leave their bodies there

I shudder to think of it. It is like walking through a nightmare. And the bodies never cease. Figures still locked in a final death grip, one sword in the other's breast, eyes wide with surprise. With hands wrapped around one another, enemy and ally, they look almost...alike.

"Commander! I'm here! Please, answer me, if you hear me!"

My voice sounds oddly hoarse in the stark air. The great bulk of the dragon looms up on my right. It occurs to me the height of this great beast and I clamber up onto one of the shattered wings to gain greater elevation. As I climb, I call out the army's maxim, that has guided us through sleet and snow.

"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori! It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country!"

The stench of death is almost overpowering. The dragon's reins lie limply in the hands of its owner. But I have not the heart to push the man from his perch. It is where he belongs and where he should stay. I stand with a last gasp and stare round at the bleached landscape. The destruction stretches on and on in an endless unfathomable ocean. I put a hand to my mouth to stifle a cry. I am a fool. There is no one left living but me. I feel the pain of those words shudder down my spine. No one left but me. Trantis, a man who constantly laughed and joked. A brief smile flickers on my face as I hear his high-pitched voice again.

The smile faded. Trantis' laugh had vanished with the lowering sun. So it is sunset. It is evening. A whole day I have lain in that hole, doing nothing. The tears begin to fall. I did nothing to help them! I did nothing to help! I just lay in the mud with the dead tumbling down around me. I remember vaguely rolling over on my back to see the great spine of a dragon towering over me and the vast rows of teeth that smiled across the landscape. I remember a foot coming down close to where I lay...a high-pitched scream and a falling body...

Without thinking, I tumble off the dragon's back, landing heavily and twisting my ankle. But I grit my teeth and go on. Back to the mire, pace after pace. I part the clump of heather and slide down its banks. I freeze. Yes. The footstep. The scream. The body is there, lying right next to the grimy mark I have left.