The first version of a prologue

It was a beautiful spring day as a little boy played with his ball while his mother, Shima watched him play. His mother would call out to him every now and then,

            “Don’t go too far where I can’t see you, Gente”. Without heeding a single word she said, Gente kicked the ball hard enough for it to go into the forest. He ran after the ball with his short, little legs.

            “Gente get back here!” his mother hollered, watching as he runs into the forest, trying to get up from the deep chair she sat in. He did not answer nor return for some time. She started to get worried that he had gotten hurt or something worse. She ran into the forest to find him, pushing her way through bushes and vines until she came into a clearing on the other side of the forest. There he was, little Gente holding his ball, looking up at a hill.

             “There you are I was worried sick!” As she came up to him Shima noticed he wasn’t even looking at her at all; Gente was looking the other way towards the hill in front of them.       

            “What is it Gente?” she asked, kneeling down beside him. Loud blasts answered her question.

            They heard gunshots and explosions sounding over the hill, they could hear the roaring cries of men fighting along with the clash of weapons. Gente’s mother, Shima, picked him up and took him over the hill to see what was happening. She felt stupid taking her child up this hill, but kept a safe distance away from the violence. It was a sight she had to see before deciding to head back home. Others would have stayed home, but she was a veteran of a previous conflict between her Kingdom and the old enemies of the past.

            It was a terrible sight to watch, a bloody battle between two armies. Men on both sides fired and charged with their weapons killing each other. Many died on either side, large puddles of blood soaked the ground.  It made it hard for both forces to run without falling into a puddle, tripping over dead bodies. Face to face, the two armies swiftly slaughtered each other with bayonets, swords and knives. Both sides mounted themselves among, and behind their dead comrades and the enemy’s dead as well. They used the dead as cover to shoot from a safe position to support comrades fighting head to head with the enemy at the front.

The battle went on for hours, casualties on both sides were now in the hundreds, the battle’s end was nowhere in sight. It appeared to be near its end when one side brought out machine guns, but the other also brought in machine guns into the fight. Plowing down men, the machine gunners on both sides killed not only hundreds of enemy soldiers, but also their own as well adding more deaths to the casualty rate. Snipers came into the battle taking out machine gunners and commanding officers who were shouting out orders.

 The snipers did not stop one particular army, because this army was trained to fight and hold positions even without a commander or any form of leadership. Snipers on the well trained side thought it pointless to gun down enemy machine gunners and commanders. These expert snipers worked on taking out the enemy snipers, fixed on their own machine gunners. The other force lost all of their snipers. This gave the disciplined army an advantage. Though there were still enemy machine gunners, it was hard for the disciplined forces to gain any ground.

When there were no more sniper shots from the opposing side, their snipers now focused their shots on enemy machine gunners, killing nearly all enemy gunners. This made their enemy lost and helpless. The advantage was won; the overwhelmed forces began to retreat. Although they won the field, the winning force took advantage of the enemy’s retreat. Snipers, machine gunners and riflemen opened fire on their retreating enemy, adding more deaths to their casualties. The victorious army kept shooting until their enemy was out of sight.

 “Take that you damn Gantronese!” an officer yelled out after the enemy. The winning forces celebrated this victory and began gathering the dead and took ammunition as well as food from the pockets of dead Gantronese soldiers. They even took prized possessions from comrades they had known since childhood. They saved these valuable possessions in remembrance of these men, possessions of the enemy soldiers were taken as souvenirs. Many wedding rings were put into envelopes with letters for loved ones of the fallen troops. Letters sent by families were put into packages with letters that were meant to be sent to those families in return. The same thing was done with love letters of husbands, fathers, and lovers.

All of these items were sent with letters saying that these men have been killed in action. Both mother and child were horrified after witnessing one depressing battle. This would surely haunt their lives forever. She worried how it would affect Gente’s childhood. Would it make Gente want to fight as well?

 Tears flowed down Shima’s face as she held Gente against her breast, hiding his face from this terrifying view of dead bodies all over the field. She cried because she saw young men who seemed a little young to be fighting. Some were not even of legal age.  There were even those who were still in school or had just graduated from Academies and Universities. She saw older but still young looking men who most likely had fiancés or wives, but no children yet. Some seemed to have wives who are just now pregnant, but are waiting for their return. She even saw men who probably have families of little children or with older teenage children. Every one of these men young and old all had one thing in common; they all had somebody waiting for them to return home from this raging war.

            The casualties were heavy; the wounded were numerous and covered the battlefield. As for the enemy there were ten times more than the victors, but no survivors. The champion forces had killed the wounded as they fell during the battle. Shima noticed their uniforms were blue. The blue forces set up camp and built fortifications, such as trenches and barricades as they celebrated their victory.

            A tall man walked up to the mother and child, “Shima?” he said curiously.

            “Tathar!” shima replied with unexpected emotional enthusiasm as she ran into his arms crying, still holding Gente in her arms.

            “I thought you were dead.” Shima said to him.

            “No, of course not Shima I’ve been...” he was cut off by his little son.

            “Who is this man, mommy?” Gente piped up, pulling at her sleeve.

            “This is your father, Gente.” said Shima, showing her son who his father is for the very first time.

            The reunited family sat by a fire with some soldiers who were celebrating their victory in battle and enjoying themselves. Tathar introduced his friends and fellow troops to his wife and son.

             “Tathar, what have you been doing for the past five years; I thought you were getting a job at a mining facility? There was not even a single message sent to me telling what had happened! What happened to you?” Shima asked.

             “Well, on our way the pilots of the shuttle got lost and had driven way off course. They stupidly took us into Nazdar territory, which was pretty close to the Union front, but we were shot down by Nazdar Harpy 84 fighters.” He replied.  “Fast s.o.b’s they were!”

            “How did you survive the cwash daddy?” Tathar smiled at his five year old son and continued speaking.

            “It was all thanks to a couple of Union D-5 fighters that came out of nowhere and blasted those Nazdar to smithereens. But that was all I saw before I blacked out. I then woke-up and found myself in a hospital resting on a kelton bed for healing. When I was out of the kelton bed, a doctor told me I was blacked out for seven days. I asked about the others who were also on board. The medics said there were only five survivors and I was one of them.” Tears ran down shima’s face.

       “You want me to stop?” Tathar asked kindly, eyebrows rose with concern on his face. She shook her head.

             “No, keep going let's hear the rest of it.” He looked at her, puzzled.

            “Alright then, now where was I? Oh, yes! It turned out I was the only one in good condition. I asked the doctor where I was and what I should do, now that my plans were ruined by those bastards.” Shima covered gente’s ears so he wouldn’t hear any foul language from coming out of his father’s mouth.

             “He told me that I was in the city of Nuedeome, in the provincial state of Naatida, and should join the Vestrisian Army of the Vestrisian Union. Well the New Vestrisian Army. Since every man from eighteen to forty five has enlisted, the Vestrisian Union has held out pretty well against the Gantronese, Nazdar and Vullanese Empire.” He gestured at the men in blue uniforms all around them.

            “So here I am a Lieutenant in the army.” His story fascinated Gente, or at least catch his attention. Tathar looked at his son and said “I see you’ve raised our first born child by yourself.”  

             “Yes, but not really. I was helped by your sister Tilla.” She replied.

Gente looked up at his parents as they talked then looked at his father with curiosity.

            “Daddy.” Gente said grabbing his father’s attention.

             “Yes son?” Tathar answered gente.

             “I was wondering, how many battles have you been in?” In a deep voice Tathar told him.            “I’ve been in a lot of battles, maybe about a hundred or so! I think?”  Shima stared at him strangely “A hundred battles!” 

            “My you’ve seen enough action over these few years!” she said.

            Tathar grinned, chuckling “It’s not as much action as you two have seen in just four hours’ time.”

    “Why’s that?” asked shima confused.

    “Well, you see.” he said nervously. “This battle is the bloodiest I’ve ever seen, especially since it’s your first and hopefully the last!”

            Shima looked at him sternly, but comprehensively. “Have you been living by yourself this whole time?” 

      “Nope, in fact I was helped out by fellow named Kouthra Gwynor.  He's got a family of his own. He was kind enough to let me stay at his place somewhere in Udraine.”

          "What did you learn from him?” she asked her husband

            “Nothing much it’s just that he comes from a family in Vrec Wren Vieth.”

An alarm sounded off startling shima.

    Tathar got up. “Well, I guess the Gants want a rematch.”

He ran towards the front with the others. “What should we do?” cried shima

            “Go home, and I’ll be there shortly!” They sat there watching him run with the soldiers, and wait for his return.