Post by Sébastien de Loréan on Aug 19, 2007 9:45:57 GMT -5
The times were long, and painful.
Ten days, the company of 100 men had walked, the detachment of the Lorean Marquisat, and we had fought hard to survive the walk in the scorching heat. The were all there, Jehan Tigaillon, Franz Lessire, Bellarmin d'Estafette. My friends, my comrades, my brothers. The Company was a solid unit, one of those Queen Sidonie sent on risky missions, because she knew, she trusted, that we would all make it back alive. This time, we didn't.
The body of young Elmer Frappier was in a linen sheet, carried on a stretcher between two mules. The hit he had received, none would have survived. His death was affecting all of us, and we arrived at camp, broken in spirit and in body, our horses parched for fresh water.
I made for my tent. Her. The one thought that kept me sane in this pouch of hell. I drifted into sleep, her unknown name on my lips.
"Seby, no, Seby," she giggled, and I caught her.
The tree was high, and I lifted her to the branch. The apples fell galore, the rain of fruit calling for more giggles. I set Seraph down, pressing her to me.
"I love you, I can't wait for us to get married."
Darkness surrounded me, and I whimpered. A grimacing Akkadian face charged me, and I hollered a war cry, my weapon at the ready. My mind summoned her again.
Her delicious smile spread across her face as she bit into the fruit.
"I like you, but I should really be elsewhere."
Suddenly, my eyes opened. The trumpets were calling. In haste, I jumped into my armor, and made for the field. My Company of 99 men were there, and the rites were performed, Young Elmer never to see Terre d'Ange again.
As the priest said the words, a resolution came to me. I would live. I would live, and see her again, love her as I dreamt to, make love to her in the sun if she would have me. My men would live, and find their wives, their lovers, their mothers again.
On Elmer's grave, I made a vow, by Camael and Anael, by Blessed Elua's precept, I would return, and find the dream's woman.
Then, I left the field when the rites were over, and settled at camp by a fire. Several men were there, chatting on area of sorts, and I stared at the fire, my death oath heavy in my heart.
Ten days, the company of 100 men had walked, the detachment of the Lorean Marquisat, and we had fought hard to survive the walk in the scorching heat. The were all there, Jehan Tigaillon, Franz Lessire, Bellarmin d'Estafette. My friends, my comrades, my brothers. The Company was a solid unit, one of those Queen Sidonie sent on risky missions, because she knew, she trusted, that we would all make it back alive. This time, we didn't.
The body of young Elmer Frappier was in a linen sheet, carried on a stretcher between two mules. The hit he had received, none would have survived. His death was affecting all of us, and we arrived at camp, broken in spirit and in body, our horses parched for fresh water.
I made for my tent. Her. The one thought that kept me sane in this pouch of hell. I drifted into sleep, her unknown name on my lips.
"Seby, no, Seby," she giggled, and I caught her.
The tree was high, and I lifted her to the branch. The apples fell galore, the rain of fruit calling for more giggles. I set Seraph down, pressing her to me.
"I love you, I can't wait for us to get married."
Darkness surrounded me, and I whimpered. A grimacing Akkadian face charged me, and I hollered a war cry, my weapon at the ready. My mind summoned her again.
Her delicious smile spread across her face as she bit into the fruit.
"I like you, but I should really be elsewhere."
Suddenly, my eyes opened. The trumpets were calling. In haste, I jumped into my armor, and made for the field. My Company of 99 men were there, and the rites were performed, Young Elmer never to see Terre d'Ange again.
As the priest said the words, a resolution came to me. I would live. I would live, and see her again, love her as I dreamt to, make love to her in the sun if she would have me. My men would live, and find their wives, their lovers, their mothers again.
On Elmer's grave, I made a vow, by Camael and Anael, by Blessed Elua's precept, I would return, and find the dream's woman.
Then, I left the field when the rites were over, and settled at camp by a fire. Several men were there, chatting on area of sorts, and I stared at the fire, my death oath heavy in my heart.