Categories > Original > Fantasy

Looking Back. Being Bitter.

by Desolira 1 review

An extract from a much larger piece of writing.

Category: Fantasy - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2008-03-09 - Updated: 2008-03-09 - 531 words - Complete

0Unrated
Author’s Note: This is an extract from an original story that I’ve been working on for nearly five years now, since it started everything has developed passed recognition. It’s become a massive, massive story. Some of it is in third person, and other parts of it are like this, mainly to give an insight into character.
The Character who’s POV this is, is a young woman named Wolfe. After her hometown (it’s actually a city) is burned to the ground by an army of unknown origin, she begins to find more and more out about it’s dark history. She has journeyed the world with her companions, the survivors of the attack, through war and had become hardened from battle. Finally she settles into another city sympathetic with the survivors cause. In this short passage she reflects on herself and on her best friend, who died in battle not so long before this point.
Enjoy!
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"don’t forget who you are.” that’s what he said.

He wasn’t wrong you know, I used to be a better person. Even so, I have forgotten. I’ve forgotten everything that I used to be, I’ve become something I’m not. They think I’m strong, this warrior, so unafraid of everything. The highest general from a different city.
None of that is true. I’m only like that because I’m so weak inside that I have to pretend I’m strong. That’s the way it goes though. There was a time, you know, when I refused to fight, a time when I didn’t have any hatred or pain. It was stupid, back then I was in the army.
You wouldn’t have called it an army though. We never fought at all, our weapons were all just for show. Where I came from, there hadn’t even been a skirmish between another city in at least twenty years. It was a peaceful place.
No, our army was more than an army, it was a group of people who stayed up on the castle wall and laughed all night. Friends.
They’re all gone now. Except me and old Desorek, but he stopped fighting after our city was burned away. He was the only one out of the lot of us who really knew what it was to go into battle. Desorek hated it.
And now that I’ve been there, so do I.
It was this war that killed him. Valdir.
He was like a brother. An older brother, who was always there to protect me. It was protecting me that caused his death. That’s why I fight. No matter how much I hate it, I hate them even more. They took my home, my family and loved ones away from me, because of something that happened centuries ago. Something that the people of our city had no memory of.
What I said before was wrong. I haven’t forgotten who I am. I remember clear as day. I just wish that I could be her again.

“I’m sorry, Valdir.” That’s what I told him.
And then he died.
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