Cridia was a kingdom of knowledge and history, making great strides towards magic and technology, a peaceful little kingdom it seemed. Except for it was in the middle of a war with the kingdom of Langua. No one knew why it started, but the troops soon enough was sent off to war, and the one leading them was the Silent General, Atlas.
War was something Atlas didn’t want to be dragged into. The soldier never liked the idea of war, never liked the bloodshed or violence, training was different from the real thing, one small mistake could cost a persons life. And yet, Atlas had a duty to their kingdom, to the king who put them in charge of the army. To fight and protect their people, to protect their men.
It’s what they were trained for, delivering marching orders, trying to protect what they could. The men that were lost Atlas would mourn for through the night before having to pack up and march out again. A strong willed general. A general their father would’ve been proud of.
But the battle wasn’t supposed to end like this.
Rain poured on the bloody battlefield as Atlas stared up at the gray sky with their equally gray eyes. They could feel pain echo through their body, their sword only a few inches away. From the sounds of it, most of their men were retreating, knowing when they have been outmatched. Atlas couldn’t help but to close their eyes, their breathing becoming ragged. They had to get up, they knew that. But their body felt so heavy with the rain.
From their left Atlas could hear footsteps approach, causing them to open their eyes trying to reach for the discarded sword, trying to will themselves to get up once more. (edited)