The Field of Bloodshed

The early summer sun shone in a deep blue sky. Not a cloud floated in the heavens to block her golden rays. It would have been a beautiful day. But now not even the birds flew about it sang. All was silent, as if nature herself couldn't breathe, having witnessed the violence that had occurred in the previous days.

The field by the river Veena, which had been bright green the week before was stained red with the blood of fallen soldiers. Side by side lay the fallen. The Polarians and the Aurigans, once mortal enemies from birth, now slept in the eternal slumber together, now and forever more to be at peace.

The dead were not alone on the field. Here and there, among their fallen comrades, lay grievously wounded men. Each and every one of them wished to fall asleep like their companions. But for most, death would not come too take them out of the Warring Lands and into the Land of the Shadows.

Like a comet shooting across the darkest night sky, he walked across the battlefield. His hair shone like pure gold in the sunshine. His steely gray eyes stared right in front of him, seemingly oblivious to the blood and gore of the field that lay before him.

Though he was covered in blood and dirt and sweat, he had the aire of a King. From his upright posture, to his determined look he looked every bit the royalty that he was. all the men who lay on the battlefield looked at him in awe, both Aurigans and Polarians.

Prince Nikolai Boskovich was young, only sixteen and he didn't look any older. But he was the leader of the Polarian army. Although he was young he knew how to lead. He would have made a great king someday, if he had been the heir to the throne. But he was not and all he ever would be would be a commander of the army.

All who saw him would have thought that he had not seen all the violence and all the blood staining the field. But he was very aware of it. As he walked, it was all I could think of. Why, he wondered, why were they fighting this war? Why were men losing their lives, children losing their fathers, wives losing their husbands?

He saw no point to it. In his eyes the men were dying for nothing. No matter how long he had searched, he could not find anything about how the war had started. And when he had asked all the wise men in Polaris, they had simply said, "Because that's the way it's always been and that's the way it always will be."

So it's the way it always should be? he wondered. No one had ever given him a satisfactory answer until he asked his mother, one day when he was young. Her answer would change his life and his perception of Polarians forever.

She said, "No you should not hate someone just for where they're from. You should not judge a person just because they're from a different kingdom. You do not know what they are going through, what their thoughts are, or what lies they have been told about you. You must judge people on their character and not where they're from. Always give people grace because you don't know if everything you've been told about them is true or not."