"Don't get yourself killed, Kasey." The words echoed in my mind as I lay on the cold floor, listening to the sporadic crack of rifle fire outside. I kept shifting, longing for rest, only to be haunted by memories of Jason's dying body. With each turn, images of corpses, Militia, National Guard, and civilians, flooded my thoughts. Then, a jolt of shock hit me as I remembered the girl, her eyes haunted and violated, gazing into mine, and I gasped involuntarily.

  The gunfire from the ridge had intensified. Too much to be simple harassment.

  "Kasey, Kasey," Robert whispered urgently, shaking my shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes, lifting my head.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  Robert swiftly grabbed my rifle, placed it in my hands, gripped my shoulder, and helped me to my feet.

  "The Colonel called our unit. It's important," he said, pointing toward a large group of men lined up in various files behind an empty crate.

  I stretched, then followed Robert as we approached the line. We planted the butts of our rifles on the ground, backs straight, bodies stiff.

  Soon, Colonel Bay stepped out of his tent, accompanied by a lieutenant and a captain. He climbed onto the crate, cleared his throat, and announced:

  "Good morning, men of the 112th!"

  "Good morning, Colonel!" the company responded in unison.

  The colonel nodded and continued.

  "Today marks our third day of battle. I hope you're not too tired yet. The inhuman army has deployed an estimated company-sized detachment of skirmishers to attack our sharpshooters. Our men on the ridge are holding firm but have requested reinforcements. This is where you come in. Light infantry like you are suited for this terrain. In thirty minutes, you'll begin your march." His gaze shifted to the captain, who nodded in agreement.

  The captain stepped forward.

  "Company! The inhuman threat has been observed and analyzed. Here are your combat rules:"

  "Number one: Never engage in melee! These inhumans have survived longer than your grandparents and are expert fighters up close."

  "Number two: Keep your distance! Reports indicate they possess magic, and its effectiveness is unknown. Spells and artillery-like attacks are possible!"

  "And number three: No prisoners! The inhuman army has committed atrocities and slaughtered our captives. These savages will see no mercy. That is all. Dismiss!" The captain stepped down from the crate and strode into his tent.

  I stood stiff in position my mind, a haze of previous battles and the dread of this one. A memory the most important of some then struck.

  "Let's go visit Jason." I turned and slung my rifle, approaching the medical camp. It was filled mainly with sick men, and at the very end was Jason, with a surgeon standing over him, clipboard in hand.

  "How is he?" I asked, approaching the surgeon.

  He glanced at me and back to his clipboard.

  "He suffered rib fractures, leg injuries, and both his wrists were fractured, along with four of his ten fingers. He also suffered a spinal injury, which, if he were somehow able to walk up here, wouldn't be so severe. I honestly don't know how he survived up here."

  I glanced down at Jason, who had his eyes closed, his breath heavy and forced.

  "How long until he recovers?" I asked.

  "You're lucky if he does. We don't know if he's suffered punctured organs or a possible infection. For all we know, he'll start choking on his blood in minutes. But if he does recover... hell. I say six weeks until he isn't bedridden. And up to six months to be able to function. Maybe a year to be fully recovered. But he's young... there's a good chance he might recover quicker."

  The surgeon pulled out his Saber and pointed to Jason's hands.

  "We can expect his fingers to be deformed and possibly unable to ever clutch something again. Chronic back pain and a possible reduced lung capacity, among other things. This mountain also isn't helping him. If we're being frank here, his survival relies on how fast we win this battle. The longer the battle, the lower the possibility of survival. But again... Jason's only nineteen. His body is still growing." The surgeon then holstered his Saber and stepped away.

  I nodded and knelt down, one hand resting on Jason's shoulder.

  "Heard that, Jason? You still have a chance of living... maybe even serving again. We'll win this battle... trust me."

  Jason's eyes opened slightly. His mouth opened in a soft gasp, and then he whispered.

  "It hurts."

  "I know," I whispered with a sigh, standing up on wobbly legs.

  "We'll be back soon, Jason," Robert said and patted my back as we left the medical camp.

  We found Clint and Ramon huddled up behind the wooden barricade. Ramon himself was snoring. Clint was smoking a pipe, his face absent.

  I sat down across from him, observing.

  "What's the news," Clint muttered.

  "You weren't there?" I asked.

  "This sleeping fucker kept tossing and turning all night kept me awake for almost two nights straight. He just now calmed down and I took a good chance to sleep. Woke up to him screaming about some horses. Haven't slept since but.. somethings, something." Clint said with annoyance.

  "Leave him to his demons," Robert said laying down in the snow.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "We're heading over the ridge to support the rifle detachment. Inhuman skirmishers want to break our line." I informed Clint while breathing into my hands.

  Clint took out a canteen from his side and tossed it to me. Catching it, I felt immediate warmth.

  "Hot coal in there. " He cleared his throat and sat up, checking his watch.

  "How long till we leave?"

  "Soon..in about ten minutes," I responded and yawned as I hugged the canteen to my chest and curled up.

  "It's about time we get some revenge for Jason," Clint muttered and pulled his cap low leaning back on the wood.

  I yelped feeling someone kick my back. I turned around and saw my Sergeant standing over us.

  "We're leaving." He said plainly.

  I groaned and pushed myself up handing the canteen back to Clint who was stretching. Ramon stood up cursing under his breath. We all grabbed our rifles and began to approach the company.

  "B COMPANY FALL IN!" Was the order.

  "Check loads! Keep a round in your chamber! Hammer on half cock!" The captain yelled as he then stood in front of us..

  "Take intervals-five paces!" Was the final order.

  We began to march up the ridge being cheered by the rest of our regiment and the other regulars.

  Once reaching it the ice broke under us looking down all we saw were clouds and the uncertain white abyss. The ground became so rough that we would only climb ten paces and pause.

  Like animals, we crawled on our hands and feet to avoid falling yet snow and ice continued to break.

  I heard the crack of ice and then it collapsed a man behind us fell on the harsh rocks narrowly being caught by one of his own before he fell off the ridge. The man screamed.

  "My knee! I can't fucking walk!".

  "Continue your march it'll be handled!" The captain ordered. We were forced to keep climbing not allowed to look back as the screams echoed.

  The snow under my boots completely slipped I fell on my stomach the air being punched out of my lungs. Clint hauled me to my feet and pushed me forward as I kept wheezing and stumbling to catch my breath.

  We continued our march of men stumbling, falling, many twisting their ankles and wrists.

  And then we saw a figure in the distance. They raised their arm waving at us. We waved back.

  Once we had climbed to them we saw the sharpshooters.

  "You made it!" The sentry said with a smile.

  "Barely!" I responded.

  The captain then pushed forward shaking the sentry's hand and going to meet their own captain.

  "What's new?" I asked and sat down on the rocks.

  "What isn't? Inhuman skirmishers about two hundred or so came up last night. Damn savages sent their best, fuckers killed five of ours and wounded another three." The sentry cursed out and shook his head.

  "And where are they now?" I asked.

  "We beat em back reckon, we killed about twenty of them there. Heard a lot fell off the ridge. They're hiding on the southern side of the ridge now, waiting for us to attack." The sentry answered and then the captain came out.

  "Keep the march company!" He ordered.

  "Best of luck Bluey!" The sharpshooter said and saluted me. I returned the gesture.

  We began the trechorous march again the company was now silent flinching at every sound.

  The silence of the howling wind and crunching of snow was broken when we approached the near end of the ridge. An arrow whizzed overhead

  "HOLD YOUR GROUND!" The Sergeant ordered. As more and more arrows began to rain down. We continued our march. But there was one scream. Than another. Two wounded already.

  We saw the inhuman archers and they saw us. They were battered and seemed tired but relentlessly continued shooting.

  "Independent fire pick your targets!" The captain ordered.

  "Kasey take your squad!" The Sergeant yelled.

  "Clint! Ramon! Robert! On me, " I began to climb up to the ridge peak where a handful of inhumans were.

  Arrows rained down we crawled fast the rocks cutting our numb hands as blood trickled down our wrists.

  Ramon raised his revolver covering our advance once we reached the top there were at least seven Inhumans.

  I raised my rifle shooting the closest one. Robert and Clint fired alongside me killing other inhumans. Two inhumans dashed toward us one attacking me the other Robert.

  I raised my rifle narrowly blocking a sword slash but felt a gut punch I gasped for air another hit right in my side made me stumble back the inhuman attempted to pull my rifle away but in a split of a second, his head snapped to a side blood splattering on the cold icy floor as he slid down to the ground. Ramon stepped back cocking his revolver.

  Robert and Clint were both stabbing the other inhuman finishing only when gallons of blood filled the snow forming a puddle under them.

  Two inhumans were left.

  Ramon raised his revolver.

  "Wait!" The inhuman yelled out.

  I saw Ramon's face turn yellow Robert's jaw dropped and Clint's eyes narrowed.

  "What the fuck." Clint muttered and slid a round into the chamber of his rifle.

  "Since when do elves speak Navaran?" Robert mumbled and clutched his bayonet.

  "How!?" I yelled out and watched the inhuman smirk as he then tugged forward another inhuman. This one had darker olive-like skin. Her eyes were brown like mine her hair tied into two long braids her head hanging low.

  "Ah..I practically stole her throat..wood ones can speak any language they hear in a matter of days..amazing..truly amazing. But." He held up a ring his smirk turning into a full grin.

  "Thy sapiens must see this ring don't you? It allows me her ability..in exchange that she will never speak unless I remove this ring."

  The inhuman stepped forward. I slid a new round into my rifle and aimed for his skull.

  "Now now..I'm a wealthy man..I offer anything. Gold. Honor! Land! The Duke has gone mad! I surrender and demand hospitality!" The inhuman spat out

  Clint scoffed and responded.

  "One of my buddies was wounded because of you. He might just be paralyzed. And you want hospitality!? My hospitality is shooting you dead instead of making you feel every inch of pain he felt. But I'll make sure I hear your agonizing last breaths. You're just an invader. You understand that don't you? Dirty. Damned. Invader."

  "Do you think this makes you brave? Kill a surrendering man!? Haven't you committed conquest as well? It is for the brave we elf are brave we are the sole true race-" the elf began to ramble in desperation and was cut off as Clint interrupted.

  "You aren't brave. We who defend are brave." He pulled the trigger of his rifle the inhuman gasped and stammered around as he attempted to take his sword. Robert fired next snapping into the bone of the Inhumans' shoulders as he slumped on the ground gasping for air.

  The other inhuman..the wooden one as he called it. Stood frozen. Her eyes haunted and shaking as she raised her hands in surrender.

  Clint kicked the wounded inhuman over pressing his knee into the inhuman's wound before with his bayonet in one swift slash cut off the inhuman's finger and took the ring.

  "You think it's magic?" He asked.

  "Leave it on the finger..put it in a pouch better safe than insane," Robert answered.

  In that moment the other inhuman began to stutter flinching at the echoing gunshots and screams. And slowly a voice came back to her.

  "I surrender. I surrender..he treated me horribly! Don't kill me. I'll tell you anything!"She closed her eyes a trail of tears clinging to her cheeks as she begged.

  I watched her horrified expression. She was unarmed except for a small dagger. Slowly I lowered my rifle.

  "We take this one as a prisoner-"

  "No." Ramon interrupted his eyes darting to me letting out a shaky frozen breath.

  "We have orders Kasey. No prisoners. And I'll be damned if I disobey an order again." Ramon said.

  The inhuman female eyes jolted open as she shook her head begging mercy.

  "She's a prisoner of-" before I could finish my sentence one bullet rang out smoke raising from Ramon's revolver as he looked away. The inhuman's body lay face-first.

  "It's just another invader Kasey," Clint said and began to climb down the peak.

  Ramon avoided my gaze and followed Clint. Robert looked into my eyes and then at the inhuman saying nothing he followed.

  I stared at the corpse of the young inhuman female. Mistreated and now laying on ruin. I took slow steps forward before I began to climb down aswell.

  Once we joined our company the battle was already dwindling we were only shooting at a handful of Archers hiding behind a rock who were already being flanked. We watched our men circle around the elven force and completely massacre the last of the elves. The rest had retreated. And dozens lay dead on the ridge.

  We had successfully captured the mountain ridge and littered it with so many corpses that it should be named a cemetery.

  The captain, the lieutenant, and the Sergeant, were all talking as they observed the inhuman corpses littering the path.

  Then all our officers came back. The captain yelled out. "The battle is won! Inhuman forces have been repelled an estimated fifty of them died here. Many more fell. We have taken eight casualties and three wounded! You've all done well. Company! Let's head back to camp!" The captain ordered.

  We all gathered our bearings. And began to march back the way we came. On the narrow line home, we were pressed much closer together. There was more talking, even cheerful singing. I could see one of our wounded ahead of here who took an arrow to his leg was talking to his comrades.

  The Sergeant approached behind me, patting my back as he said.

  "I see those days alone shaped you up, Kasey! You did well." He chuckled and smiled.

  "You can say that. It's hard work. I can't imagine being a captain." I said and looked back at the captain before continuing my march.

  The last daylight was fading, and it was only eleven in the morning. But at least we had some daylight, unlike the previous season.

  Passing the rifleman detachment, they whistled and cheered us on some were clapping, others came to shake our hands and salute us.

  And once we passed the rifleman, we could finally see the camp in the very distance. But there I heard the cracking of ice. I looked behind me to see one of ours toward the very tail end, who looked down and froze before the ice below him gave out. Letting out a final scream, he fell off the ridge and into the white abyss, his scream being muffled by the howling wind.

  "Nine dead." The Sergeant muttered and pushed me forward.

  The whole line was silent for the final minutes of the march until we emerged and began to descend down the ridge.

  "They did it!" Someone exclaimed. All the regulars came toward us watching our descent.

  "We're Navarans, not even those savages can stop us!" Another yelled.

  We were saluted by everyone, including commanding officers, as we retook our positions and were immediately given dried meat as a reward.

  "First real battle.." Robert muttered as his eyes locked onto the dried meat in his hand.

  "Won't be the last," Ramon responded.

  Later that day, we watched as artillery fired on the elven position again. It was routine now.

  Yet in the distance, we saw a glow. A faint one, yes, but it was still strong enough to be seen in the dark.

  And from that glow something shot out slamming into one of our cannons, the explosions made me jump and jolted Ramon awake.

  "IT'S LAVA?" Someone screamed. We dashed to the center line, slowing down as we saw it. One cannon was hit by some magma substance. The cannon itself was damaged but not destroyed. The magma was already cooling in the snow.

  "What are you doing, you fools!? Hurry up and store that lava or get warm, but use it before it goes out!" Ramon yelled. We all huddled around the lava, putting our hands over it, and once it cooled down, we took still-warm bits and placed them in metal canteens and holding.

  Returning to my position, I lay on the snow, cuddling the warm canteen like I would to a woman.

  Listening to the fading sound of our officers chattering and cursing alongside footsteps going back and forth.

  And finally, exhaustion overtook me.