“Frontline-Leader”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

The moons shone brightly over the Amethyst Citadel the night the war began. The attacking army confidently surrounded the Citadel while the defending force held its positions on the walls, trying desperately to retain the appearance of being much stronger and more numerous than they were. Unfortunately, most of their Reasonists had already been killed earlier that night and their Whisperers weren’t strong enough to complete the task.

Frontline-Leader Wyrdren was just about to begin to give his men a motivational speech when the first arrow flew through the sky, piercing Frontline-Deputy Braccus directly through the heart. The man died instantly, landing face down in the black dirt. Frontline-Leader Wyrdren continued his speech, his eyes not once stopping on the body of his best friend and deputy. Wyrdren was young for a Frontline-Leader – the youngest in six hundred years, to be precise – yet his entire life thus far had been spent in battle and his experience rivaled that of any man thrice his age. The sight of blood and bodies of loved ones no longer phased him as it once had when he had first entered the army six years before, at the age of twelve. Later, when the battle was over, Wyrdren would take the time to properly mourn his right-hand man. Now was the time for action.

Wyrdren took a deep breath and faced his men. They were all older than he, but for many of them, this would be their first battle on the front line. After the massacre at Elka the week before, Wydren’s men had been reduced in number from twenty to six, all because of that stupid Sculptist. Included in the deceased had been the squad’s resident Reasonist, a good-humoured man who went by his nickname, Bug. While Bug hadn’t been especially good at his job – he preferred spending his time at the local tavern rather than at the training grounds – his natural talent had still been more than enough to make Wyrdren’s squad one of the best in the army. Now, Wydren had to deal with Ikaro, an older, much slower man. Wydren already knew that his squad would be in trouble.

Final Comments: I’m not entirely sure how Wyrdren’s name came to be… It just kind of stuck though and now I’m actually pretty fond of it.

Overall Rating: 😄