Chapter 96: Chapter 96

'This is real!'

‘It is happening!’

‘It is really happening!’

Young Ezra heard himself muttering panickily as he ran alongside the rest of the Manrast soldiers to clash with the oblivious Taghit army, and until that particular moment when his trembling legs were carrying him, following the flow of screaming men in armors, he didn’t believe that he was going to fight, kill, or be killed.

He was no soldier! He was no killer! And he had nothing to do with this war! This wasn’t his place nor the place he wanted to be, and while he ran almost absentmindedly, his life was flashing in front of his eyes, like those plays he used to see in the capital’s market when he was a child, the ones he was never fortunate enough to attend and watch until the very end, not when he was the son of a poor blacksmith who would spend his every penny on ail, those plays were a luxury little Ezra couldn’t afford, same as a normal childhood.

He wasn’t a soldier! He was a blacksmith, always been since he was six years old, trying to work hard and gain enough money to feed his mother and sister, his life was never more than that, a circle where days would role and repeat themselves, wake up, work, work, endure the yelling and mistreatment, more work, endure the beating of his father who always took a share if not all of his income, survive on the bare minimum, go home, more screams, reassure his sister, tell her a bedtime story, and then sleep only to wake up in the same day, just a different date, that was his life, until he was dragged out of his house when he was merely four months over sixteen.

The soldiers came to their village that morning and took a boy from each house, telling them they were obliged to serve in the army, no matter how hard he tried to beg, to tell the men in armors that he couldn’t leave his mother and sister, he wasn’t spared, he was taken to a camp where he spent most of the year of the so-called military service, he slept in a tent that didn’t protect him from the cold, he was trained harshly without any consideration, he was beaten and mocked because he was never skilled with a sword, or any kind of arms, he always hated fighting, and chose the peaceful way out of everything, he hated violence, and counted the days for that hellish year to be over.

Unfortunately, the Taghit king returned from his insane expedition and war broke between the two kingdoms with a third one joining as their ally and the army needed reinforcement, and he was never granted a chance to go back home and see his mother and his little sister for what could be the last time, Instead, he was shipped with the rest of his peers to the borders to fight against the Taghit kingdom.

Ezra was a believer, there were times in his childhood when he would ask himself why would the Gods be so cruel to his family, why wouldn't they come to rescue him or his mother when his father would drink too much and beat them, or when he wished for the cold dry bread to change into some chicken or pastries, but that didn't mean he ever lost his faith, and the Taghit people, they defied the Gods and allied themselves with the demons, Ezra never saw a demon before, but he heard that they were these scary monsters that fed on blood and souls.

What if there were demons among the Taghit army? The thought made his blood run cold, they were told that the demons wouldn’t be a part of this war but what if they were?

He was too scared, he didn't want to die, Hell, he barely even lived, and to die by the hands of the demons? Ezra wanted to cry, something he couldn’t do as he was already running, so instead he screamed at the top of his lungs, He ran and screamed all of his frustration out as they inched closer and closer to the Taghit camp, Their troops were already on their defensive position, their archers started shooting arrows aimlessly, hitting the first lines of the Manrast army, But it barely held them off thanks to the heavy armors and shields, Aron wasn't among the first lines, and therefore, was saved from what happened next.

For a split second, Ezra thought, with hope blooming in his chest, that they might have the upper hand, they had the numbers, the element of surprise, and a very good plan, seeing the Taghit archers shoot aimlessly made him think that they were shocked and at loss, but once the first line of soldiers set foot on the perimeter of the camp, Hell broke loose, the ground under them cracked and thousands of ice spikes emerged from the grooves, stabbing the soldiers from underneath, and what was before aimless arrows became precise shots, focused on the back lines, while the ice spikes kept on emerging from the ground trapping the Manrast soldiers.

Ezra, and the rest of his troop were panicking, he didn't know whether he should believe his eyes or not, blood splattered on the ground and on the pierced corps of his fellow soldiers, the Taghit cavalry then started advancing toward them, chopping heads off as if they were wheat,  but the cavalries were not the scary part, it was the giant humanoid wolves that emerged from the forest at the side and started running toward them, with their large bodies, sharp claws, bare canines, and red eyes.

Demons!

The captain of Ezra’ brigade gave them orders to get ready to clash with the Taghit cavalries, as one of the archers, he aimed at the horses, managing to knock one or two of the riders down, but his arrow didn’t have any effect on the demons who kept on approaching, fast, but not as fast as the cavalries, and not as fast as his end.

Ezra never asked for much, just for a better life, he wished his father would quit drinking, his mother's health would get better, he wanted to work harder and harder to put better food on the table, and buy his little sister the pretty dresses she always wanted, he never thought beyond that but there was a young lady he used to see in the market and always made him feel funny things, he waited so long, for his life to start, and even then, with the Taghitian rider slashing his chest open with his sword, with all the pain and agony he felt, he kept on hoping, praying, waiting, wondering, he fell on the ground, his body giving up, as he looked up at his murderer who passed to the next soldier to kill, another boy of his age, who had nothing to do with that war, who was stuffed in that armor just like him and sent to his death, it all happened too fast but the dying boy didn’t miss a thing until his eyes were permanently closed, the last thing he saw was his murderer, a large man in golden armor, dark brown hair, and blue eyes.