March 1st. 1846.

  The moon began to shine ever so slightly, now guiding our path as we ran toward the smoke and fire rising in the sky. We emerged from the forest, watching homes in flames, the smoke so thick that you could choke on it.

  "Over there! Kill the treefucker!" Clint barked out pointing to an elf I snapped my head toward it watching an elf dragging a sack out of a looted home I raised my rifle firing, the elf cried out as the bullet hit his side.

  "We're late. Most have already left." Jason breathed out and lowered his head. Clint shook his head and ran forward. I chased behind him, watching as he struck his bayonet into the fallen elf. I kicked open the door to the house he was looting, watching an elf standing over the corpses of an old man. It was as if my rifle fired on its own, the elf's head exploding into a mess of gore that splattered onto the wall, his body collapsing on the floor.

  Lowering my hands, I let out a shuddering breath, looking at the old man's body, a stab wound in his neck still spilling blood.

  "Kasey.." I heard Jason say his voice was cracking. I turned around, stepping out of the house to see Jason, his hands trembling his eyes wide open as he stared into the house.

  I took hesitant slow steps until I was shoulder to shoulder with Jason. I pushed open the door only to find the room filled with gore and various fluids Jason immediately bolted out of the home dropping to his knees and stuffing his nostrils with snow as the smell of sex and flesh hit us.

  In the living room was a girl her legs sprayed with blood her hair dirty and disheveled, a sword wound deep in her back yet she was alive her sobs were a quiet gurgle her eyes already so dim and void.

  My eyes narrowed to an elf drunk on the floor, still grinning. Clint stepped in behind me and slammed the door shut, taking his bayonet off his rifle.

  The elf's eyes widened with shock; he attempted to reach for his sword. I aimed at his hand the bullet ripping apart his fingers.

  "Kasey. Let me have this one." Clint hissed. I looked at him, the girl, and then the elf before stepping toward the elf and bashing my rifle stock into his mouth repeatedly the heat in my chest only getting hotter and hotter as tooth and blood splattered he began to frantically yell I stepped back and grinded my teeth.

  "Shut him up! Do it now!" I ordered and watched Clint shove a stick into the Inhumans' mouth before kicking it, the Inhuman's flesh being torn into a forceful grotesque grin.

  "Don't have to tell me twice, Kasey," Clint said.

  I stepped over to the girl. Her father was lying beside her, still holding a cleaver. Grabbing her shoulders, I gently pulled her out of the house, closing the door behind me. The girl was still breathing but practically lifeless. Jason stood frozen, watching the girl, his pupils trembling from the sight before he looked up at me, his mouth slightly agape.

  "Kasey.. I.. what..she's.." Jason swallowed and turned around, holding his head. Robert approached the girl and looked at me before whispering.

  "She's suffered enough Kasey."

  I knelt down and cradled the girl's head in my arms as she whimpered. My eyes looked up at Robert before I nodded my head.

  I clutched her tighter, running my hand down her cheek as I whispered.

  "Shh..don't cry. It'll be fine in a few seconds. You'll be all beautiful and pure.. You don't have to remember this." I whispered and swallowed before flinching as Robert shot her in the heart. The girl's eyes locked onto mine before closing, letting out a final gasp.

  I laid her gently on the snow and looked up at Robert.

  "..I hope.. one day we'll forget this," Robert muttered before screams echoed out from the house, and it suddenly went quiet. Then Clint kicked open the door and walked out his uniform stained red with blood, his hands shaking, yet his face hardened.

  He didn't say a word before slumping down on the snow.

  Slowly, I stood up and walked to another house, a small one. There, a man stepped out he looked at me and smiled weakly before stumbling toward us.

  "You killed some of those bastards didn't you? I'm glad.. those.. those animals took my arm, my food.. but they didn't take my family. I just need help now." The man said, clutching his left arm, which was still leaking blood. I looked at Robert before I took out some rope and tied it to the man's arm.

  "It's the least we can do." I followed the man into his home and into a storage room where he pointed to a trap door.

  I stuck my bayonet in between the cracks and pried it open. Looking up at me were two young boys and a woman.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  The man placed his hand on my shoulder and shook me, saying, "You regulars keep going bring us justice. Promise me that, won't you?"

  I stared into his eyes eyes my throat becoming tighter before I nodded and choked out. "I promise."

  And then I turned and with Robert we left the home and approached the one that was burning now reduced to smoke and burnt wood.

  "It isn't your fault, Kasey. We did what we-"

  "I know." I interrupted and stepped over a burnt wall. I scanned the area to find a mother cradling a corpse too small. I snapped my head away and gagged before covering my nose.

  "It's.. it's..My God." I whimpered and stepped out of the home, Robert, following behind me, his eyes became red. I rubbed my eyes repeatedly as we approached the final home. All its windows were broken, and the door was destroyed. I stepped inside only to see an old woman looking back at me. Her husband is lying at her feet. An inhuman corpse lying right next to him.

  "You regulars always come late." The woman stated bitterly.

  "We..tried," I whispered and listened to the cracking voice of the old lady as she threw a vase at us. I watched the glass crash and explode in different directions.

  Robert looked at the broken glass, his grip on his rifle so tight his knuckles had gone white.

  "You tried and failed! My husband can't you see him! Seventy-six years old Seventy-six years in this damned world and he dies at the hands of-of-" the old woman's voice died out as she buried her head in her hands and began sobbing.

  "Leave!" She cried out. I pushed Robert out the door and stepped out my legs wobbly, my hands sweating even in this frozen cold. I then looked at Robert, who took his cap off and looked at the ground with bulging eyes.

  "Just one more house to clear," I whispered and glanced at Robert, who nodded. We approached the final house partially burned its door was also kicked in. Outside slumped on a wall was a man his straw hat pulled low below his head, blood dripping down to his neck.

  He looked up at us, his right eye so beaten it was bloodshot red, and right above it was a deep cut digging into his skull.

  "Regulars." He gasped out his voice rugged and dry.

  I crouched down in front of him and reached for his chin, but he slapped my hand away and raised his chin as he whispered.

  "I'm not that old son. Help me kill those bastards." He coughed out and looked up at me, drawing a revolver from his pants.

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him up he stumbled up and supported himself on the wall. "Those shits are still in my home." And I heard the click of his revolver as he stumbled to the door.

  Inside, we listened to two voices talking before one began to chuckle. I went in first, aiming my rifle at an inhuman standing over the corpses of an old woman and a young man.

  An inhuman spun around and looked at me before gasping. The other looked back, and they both froze.

  The wounded old man raised his revolver, his eyes darting to the corpses before the elf.

  "You killed my wife. My son. I know you don't understand me. But you will understand this."

  He shot at one inhuman. The other attempted to use his sword i fired, and so did Robert. The inhuman collapsed to the floor.

  The inhuman we shot died immediately. The one the old man shot was still moving his body curling up as he let out choked whispers. The old man, with the last of his strength, took heavy steps close to him, raising his revolver to the inhuman's head.

  Once. Twice. Again, again, and he fired once more.

  And then he lowered his revolver, and a tear streamed down his cheek before he wiped it away.

  The inhumans head was so mangled that he was only red flesh now. The old man looked back at us, his bright red eye looking into mine as he said.

  "You killed them too quickly."

  I nodded and looked down before turning around, but then the old man called out.

  "Don't go yet." He coughed and groaned, limping toward us as he wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

  "I have nothing here. Just just help me bury my family. And then take me with you."

  "We'll help you mourn, but we can't take civilians with -"

  The old man interrupted me and barked out.

  "I'm no civilian! I served. I was a lieutenant in my time."

  He looked down at his now dead family and groaned as he knelt down and cradled his son, whispering something in his ear before he stood up.

  Me and Robert I hauled the corpses on our backs and walked them to the backyard, laying them on the ground.

  And then we took our spade. The old man came stumbling towards us with a shovel as we dug in silence for what felt like hours. Long enough for Clint and Jason to find us and without a word began to help us dig the second grave.

  And then slowly, we lowered the corpses into their own respective tombs.

  "Let me do it." The old man muttered, and with his shovel, he slowly pushed the dirt into its place and buried his loved ones.

  Me. Jason, Clint, and Robert all stood shoulder to shoulder.

  We watched as the man loaded a bullet into his revolver cocking the hammer back.

  "Salute," I ordered and raised my rifle to the sky. My team followed.

  And then the volley erupted and we lowered our rifles.

  "Do you still wish to-" I said and was interrupted again.

  "Of course I do what else am I supposed to do? Die here better than I already am? Hah!" He cackled and stumbled into his home. We all glanced at each other and moments later the old man came out holding an old flintlock rifle and the old Navaran uniform. Black leather shoes instead of calf-high boots. A tall shako instead of our forage caps. His uniform is a lighter blue than ours with white lining and a long tail. Old yet kept in pristine conditions. His rank.

  I tried to help him walk but he pushed me away. We stepped out of his home the old man looked back a final time lowering his hat and sighing before turning around and pulling his hat back on.

  "So. Old man what's your name?" Robert asked slinging her rifle on his back as we followed down the path where the elves had left.

  "Second Lieutenant Ramón Flores." He responded and lifted his chin in pride.

  "Xaran?" Asked Jason.

  "Proudly." Responded Ramon.

  I nodded and suddenly the sound of cracking gunfire erupted.

  "Move!" I yelled and wrapped my arm around Ramon despite his protest and began to dash toward the gunfire soon the Dash became a trot we saw the last of the elven army dragging a wounded handful of dead lying on the floor.

  "Serves them right," Clint muttered.

  Then the sound of hooves stomping approached us forcing our rifles up.

  "Identify yourself" Someone yelled.

  I lowered my rifle and yelled back.

  "112th Light Infantry Regiment! Who are you!"

  Slowly the men emerged on the giant horses that put elven horses to shame.

  "19th light cavalry!" The man said as he trotted out his rifle slung over his shoulder. Behind him emerged eight other riders.

  "And him?" He pointed his chin at Ramon who was still clutching his revolver.

  "7th rifles! I was a second Lieutenant!" Ramon responded with his chin lifting to the rider.

  "Was.. and who's the real leader here?" The man asked before I raised my hand and said.

  "I am. Lance Corporal Kasey Carter sir."

  "Sergeant Michael Smith. You the boys from Sergeant James Black?" Asked the Sergeant. Ramon looked visibly offended before I could respond he yelled out.

  "I'm the second Lieutenant!" His voice was getting more raspy the Sergeant simply glanced at him before saying.

  "As of now 'Lieutenant' you are an enlisted man. You joined as a militia even if you wear an outdated uniform if a rank isn't given by a captain you will be a soldier. Understood?"

  Ramon nodded his head his eyes unwavering.

  Clearing my throat I said. "We are all the men of Sergeant James."

  "'Good. He's given me a message that I unfortunately lost the letter of. But I memorized it." The Sergeant then cleared his throat and quoted. "Kasey. You are to go around Mountain Marqu and climb it following the path of 5,000 men who prepare to engage the elven force. Our intelligence has proven the elven leader is incompetent. Like a bull to a red flag, he will meet us at the mountain. Going around the mountain you will find men of the 11th. Ask them for directions, and they will answer.' There..was more information, but my memory falters." The Sergeant then took out a and cut a piece of his bandages and wrapped it around a bottle of whiskey before tossing it to us.

  I caught it in the air and looked up at the Sergeant who saluted me and took off.

  "And now Lance Corporal?" Robert asked.

  "I guess we climb that mountain," I responded and handed the bottle and bandages to Ramon, who treated himself and took a large desperate swig of the bottle hissing as he finished before he muttered.

  "Fuck."

  And we began our march again. The large mountain ahead of us the moon now regaining its light, a beacon of hope in our tradition, led our path.

  And to a path where we would face the enemy.