A love story birthed from the flames of war

War demands the sacrifice of the people. It gives only suffering in return.

– Frederic Clemson Howe

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Willow Town,

Hertalese.

......

(The sound of rustling leaves)

The autumn breeze blew lightly through the town carrying with it the coppery scent of blood, the vile stench of innards and the musky smell of black powder.

Timothy panted heavily, leaning on the hilt of his blade over the dying body of an Arien soldier.

He unstably straightened his back, pulling out his rapier from the corpse before glancing back at his fellow soldiers and knights scattered around him, panting heavily as they set their weapons aside, collapsing on the ground for a moment of reprieve.

Timothy staggered to the foot of a tree and laid underneath its shade, looking around at the piles of dead bodies of both friend and foe littered about him. The ground was soaked muddy with the blood of the dead and the air was blackened with soot from cannons.

Before this faithless war, the young soldier had never seen a scene so bloody, so gruesome, so inhumane.

The spilt guts of an unknown man hung limply over the thin branches of a roadside shrub, the mangled body of a fellow knight he saw drinking heavily and singing loudly about his sweetheart yesternight was strewn messily across the floor, his lifeless eyes staring blankly into the darkening sky.

To his far-right sat a young footsoldier, sobbing comically in a dark morbid way without his left foot. Timothy saw from the corner of his eye during the battle how the young man's leg and bright future were both blown mercilessly into oblivion by a cannon.

All around the young soldier were the gut-wrenching results of the several hours of persistent fighting. But despite the gruesome sights around him, timothy felt nothing... Or more appropriately couldn't feel anything.

He had grown numb to the sight of his friends and fellow brothers in arms being killed mercilessly and dismembered, he had no more tears to shed, nothing left in his guts to vomit, he just sat there numb.

Before this war he had never killed a single person in his life, Although he was among the best among his peers when it came to fighting and had witnessed other people kill and be killed, he had never actually been in a situation that he had to kill someone with his own hands.

His elder brother was among the 'lucky' ones chosen for their extraordinary valour in battle and loyalty to be sent on that secret expedition that even his own reverend brother didn't know about. Timothy had been expecting news of victory when his brother returned and a rapid rise in their status when rewards for battle accomplishments were being handed out.

At least he was expecting his brother to be promoted from an ordinary cavalryman and get knighted by the duke of Willow town. But instead of receiving a letter of the expected good news from his brother, Timothy received a conscription order from the duke's castle to join in the defence of Willow town.

The time he killed his first man he felt his world flip over as a hollow, depressing feeling filled his heart. He felt like something broke inside him that day as the memories of the face of a soldier he killed no older than himself kept flashing through his mind.

But he soon got over this naivety when he came to the realization that the only way he could survive this terrible war was to be merciless to the enemy.

Wave after wave of the invaders came, but under the excellent leadership and foresight of the duke, they managed to hold their positions and prevent those vile invaders from reducing this little town into nothing more than a pile of rubble and dead bodies.

Soon Timothy was able to stabilize himself and make new friends among his comrades, but...

That again was a big mistake. The friends he made and just started to get close too soon started dying one after the other. Watching the people he grew close to get reduced to nothing more than mangled corpses made Timothy afraid.

He wasn't afraid of dying anymore, eh funny, after being molested by death so many times in such a short time span he had soon grown numb to the feeling of living on the edge. No that wasn't it, what he was really afraid of was watching all those he called brothers and comrade leave him after leaving a mark in his heart.

Because of this he soon quickly grew cold, distant even from his remaining comrades strictly avoiding any and all social relations only preferring to watch them from afar frolicking with what little time the had left.

The soldiers no longer had any hopes of surviving this, only hoping to get a peaceful death. Although the upper echelon tried to hide it everyone already knew that there wasn't hope for any more help to arrive.

Some of the knights and soldiers had tried to sneak away now that there wasn't hope but only the truly lucky managed to leave, The rest of the deserters were caught and flayed alive as a warning to anyone else who might have the thoughts of doing the same.

When a bunch tried to rebel they lack the support they need to get any results. While most wanted to leave, many of the soldiers here have families in the town they have to protect. If they rebelled and managed to leave, their families would be left behind without any protection and suffer fates even worse than death.

At least Timothy was an orphan and had only his brother left in this world so he might be alright with just abandoning everything to flee, many of the men here have parents, children and siblings hiding away depending on them for survival so they can't just escape.

Long story short the rebellion failed and all the participants were publicly executed for their insubordination.

Without the hope of surviving this, the morale was on an all-new low and everyone no longer has any hope of surviving, only thinking of how to bring down as many of the enemies with them in death.

Timothy sat down with blood flowing freely on the floor around him for a few minutes before getting up and walking into the town in the direction of the public bath. He knew it would be until a few hours later that those villainous Ariens might attack again, that was why his supervising knight didn't stop him when he left. So since he had a few hours to rest, he decided to take a bath and freshen up before the next battle.

Walking into the bathhouse he glanced at the manager and tossed two iron Lins to him without saying a word as he headed towards one of the private baths. Although he would have normally used the public rooms to save up on some money, right now he needed to be alone to clear his mind in anticipation of the next battle.

As he headed down he felt a gaze on him and turned to see the daughter of the bathhouse manager standing in the corner peeping at him. She seemed hesitant about something but since Timothy barely knew her except for her name, May, he ignored her and walked into the bathroom.

Although he occasionally saw her in town before this incident, hopping around like a lively little bird going about her chores, while she might be a good person he barely knew who she was so he didn't feel the need to strike up a conversation and just walked away.

After undressing he rubbed himself down of the blood and grime with a bath stone as he enjoyed the feeling of lather forming on his skin.

He had not even a simple shower in the past three days and was not sure when next he would be able to have one or even if would ever do so again after today, so he decided to fully enjoy the feeling now that he still could.

After washing his body and clothes clean, he wore his still dripping clothes and opened the door to leave, but to his surprise, he saw May fidgeting outside the bathroom door staring at her shoes with a bright flush extending from her cheeks to her ears.

"Timothy, I..." She began but it seemed the words got stuck in her throat as she fell silent afterwards.

Timothy's brain couldn't come up with a suitable response as he stared at the young lady making her face flush even more in embarrassment.

Although she wasn't a stunner like those noble daughters that strut proudly around the town and her hands were calloused from menial labour, she had a refreshing and vulnerable appeal that was definitely lethal to Timothy who has been living on the edge for the past couple of days.

They stood there in silence for a short while unable to come up with a proper response to the other's presence. While it was starting to get unbearable to the naive May who was already thinking of leaving, just as she was about to turn the slow-witted Timothy grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace planting a deep violent kiss on her pale lips.

They stood there locked in each other's embrace for a few minutes until Timothy broke the kiss, panting heavily, testosterone flooding his bloodstream in torrents.

Gazing at May's blushing tanned face timothy felt his blood heat up and his breathing grew deeper. All the pent up emotions in the young soldier's heart were quickly released, feral lust flashed in the depths of his eyes while he fondled the young lady's soft curves.

"Timothy, I..." May began saying again but was interrupted by Timothy who pulled her into the bathroom and slammed the door violently behind them.

Perhaps it was May's suppressed moans?

Perhaps it was his pent up feeling, like a keg of black powder waiting to explode.

Or perhaps it was the fact that deep down in his heart, Timothy didn't want to die a meaningless death like the expendable pawn he is.

There was no need to think.

Even as hundreds gloomily awaited their eventual deaths under the cool autumn sun in this small town in Hertalese, spring blossomed inside that little room.