Chapter 5 - I'm Only a Man

— Kaden —

Fuuuuuuuuuck!

The battle was already underway. I was supposed to lead this. I started this. And there was a girl ready to bolt, right there in the middle of the woods, and I couldn’t do shit.

Dawn.

That was one hell of a deadline.

I took my boots off after I got back in the woods, far away from her so that she wouldn’t see—I didn’t want to freak her out anymore that she already was—I partially shifted and used this to move faster, jumping over any precarious terrain and going at full speed.

I got my earpiece in and got the rundown from David.

He seemed like he wanted to ask about where the hell I had been but I didn’t let him ask and just kept him busy answering all my questions so that I knew exactly what I was getting into.

It took figurative ages.

I knew when I was getting closer as the forest sounds got quieter. The cicadas stopped singing, there were no birds or bats, the usual songs of the forest died down and slowly was replaced by the rhythm of war. It started by the distant sharp echoes of gunshots that reverberated through the night. And as I came closer, the occasional growling of wolves ferociously tearing at their opponents. I could see distant flashes further into the trees. Guns and flash bangs were the main light sources, but the occasional light show of magic could also be seen.

The artifacts, I assumed.

I used the strength of my wolf’s paws to propel myself in the air. I pick my handgun in one hand and my sword in the other, and took in the biggest gulp of air my lungs could.

As I landed on the ground in the midst of combat, I let out the loudest roar I was capable of.

The ground shook beneath me, trees trembled, and the people closest to me lost balance and fell. Many found themselves taking a few steps back from the auditory assault, and before anyone could gain back their footing, I had already charging in.

I could go on in detail about various fighting tactics and maneuvers. About how I defeated enemies.

Movies love to glorify battles, to depict warriors as heroes, show the glory of victory. But there is nothing glorious in violence, there is no heroism is destruction, there is no honour, no bravery, no true victory in warfare.

War is savage and untamable. It is pure destruction. You don’t build an empire on destruction. You don’t save the weak, or protect your own. You just destroy. The rest either come before or after.

I don’t take joy into battle. I can’t say there isn’t any time where I feel elation, because there is. But to me, this is a means to an end. I do what I have to do achieve something.

I have come to realise that there is a danger to being in a position of power like mine. Normally people desire power to be able to achieve certain things. They want more money to feed themselves and their family. They want to rise in the rank of an organisation, to be able to do more. But the more you gain, the more the line between actions and goals blurs, the more the order of things becomes unclear. And soon enough, those who sought money to be able to care for others, now that care of others to gain more money, those you sought rank to be able to pose actions now pose action to gain rank. It’s not so bad until the new goal doesn’t align with the former. When the best way to get money is not by taking care of other, but using them instead.

It sounds like very little difference, and it is in the life of every day people, but to someone like me. Who, like tonight, holds hundreds of lives in my hands, this simple shift in goals could have repercussions far beyond my own life. I got burnt a few times. I got into this too young. I had very little insulation built upon experience. I made mistakes. I saw good people get hurt. I saw what was left in the wake of my mistakes.

So now, every battle, every life I take, I try to remember.

I’m not always as successful as I’d like to be. I don’t always manage to reach the detachment for the unfolding events as I’d like. In the end, I guess, I’m only a man.

There is a sort of absurd peace to battle. You hear the noises and the chaos, but at the same time, there is this overwhelming quiet that is overcoming all your senses. There is a simplicity in the gestures, the movements, the choices. There is no deeper meaning, or social pleasantries or protocols—just cause and effect. One gun short, one wound, then you move on. It has a rhythm, like a travesty of a mantra leading you in this altered state of mind, where the most animalistic part of yourself takes over. Where your instinct guides you. Where your conscious mind takes a backseat, gathering information and letting the unconscious lead the way.

When you’ve seen enough battles, when you trained often enough, you can let the movements guide you, barely directing them.

But tonight, I couldn’t reach the calmness I usually feel.

I had a mate, and I was getting out of time.

The enemy’s use of magical artifacts, their strategies and weapons inventories, has forced us to have to fold many times.

Normally, I would embrace such tactics. We were well trained. We could wait them out, let them exhaust themselves. Many face battles like a sprint. Some can be excellent sprinters. A fight can be a sprint, but a battle is more like a marathon, and my men are absolutely good marathoners. Sprinters can’t last long in a marathon. Even if their magical forces were too much for us, or their armoury too great, or their numbers too vast. Chances were that if we played our cards well, we could keep them at bay long enough to let them tire themselves, and then we would be in the advantageous position. The roles reversed. We could be victorious.

Tonight, the deck didn’t seem stacked too hard against us, but our forces were not as overwhelming as they could have been. Which meant a cautious approach was the best way to keep injuries and death to a minimum.

I’ve prided myself in keeping casualties to the lowest point possible. In the last ten battles, only one has had a death, just one—the others had nothing more than injuries, none permanently crippling.

This speaks volumes of both the strength of my men, but also the careful approach we have taken, and the consequent effect of this. I valued my men, they were never cannon fodder to me.

But tonight, this care could cost me my mate, and probably, in the future, my life. Was my life, my future more valuable than my men. My reason said obviously not. But there was a small part of me that was rebelling for the first time. A part that didn’t want to be a leader, that didn’t want to put others above myself, and that for once, wanted to be selfish.

Was it wrong of me to want to care for myself first, for once?

Or course not, but could I afford this, could I live with the consequences later.

I’ve never been a man of compromises. So I guided my men into safe maneuvers, and I alone slipped through the woods to attack the rear on my own. This is not a safe strategy. This is not a sane strategy. But I had left my sanity by that river.

I needed to take this chance.

And if one had to pay the price of my recklessness, then it would be me.

— Elaeya —

I could sense the wail of the hills under the weight of battles. It was far, but not far enough.

I should have been back by now.

We were supposed to be gone already. I had been late from the beginning. How did I let myself be dragged into this? One minute earlier, and I would have been gone before he even arrived.

What were they thinking now?

That I’d been hurt? That something tragic had happened? They were probably looking all over for me, and I was here, looking at the stars, sitting on a rock by the river.

I spent a while, torn. Should I stay, or should I leave? I walked a little further, where the trees were thicker, where my presence would be harder to detect. At the very least, I should not expose myself to danger anymore that I’ve already done.

I don’t know why I gave him time. Maybe it was the desperation in his voice. Maybe it was the desperation in my mind. Or maybe it was just meant to be.

I closed my eyes and breathed in slow, nothing about this felt wrong, but my mind kept arguing with the feeling. My mind wasn’t always in harmony with my instincts. But in the end, I gave my word. I may not have sworn any oath, but it was a bond and I had to respect it. My mind told me to run, but my body told me to relax and wait. That all would come to an end soon.

That the time was about to come.

I had to be ready.

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