Fate/Lost Horizion [ Dogs of War]. Volume 1

Chapter Eight [ King ]

[ Chapter 8 ]

....

.....

.....

....

It is an act that is without a righteous purpose, that is only given as the reason to call for it. It demands both the young and old to rise from their homes. Leaving behind the young and soon to be widowed to wonder what shall become of these men. To call yourself lucky for surviving is the same as lying. As the lucky are those who reside in the ground. They are the ones who are lucky, blessed with the rest and mercy to once again have to experience the horrors of it. Their prayers having been answered, the living who still go on fighting hoping to know their peace.

It divides both fathers and sons, rips and separates families. Divides countries, and brings an end to even nations. The old that have seen it wish to never again partake in it, much less send their young to understand it. But there are also the bitter who refuse to put their grudges to an end, calling more to fall for foolish reasons, ones that could be solved by just speaking rather than fighting. The young nevertheless are expected to fight in it, for their country, family, and any reason worth giving in order to convince them it is necessary. To give them a justifiable reason to believe in it. Yet when digging into it, there is none for it.

It is possibly the greatest and most viscous act of aggression that mankind can commit. A land, an act chosen to be the breeding ground that reveals the most horrible of our sins. And in the face of it, in the face of what we shall lose from it. We guide ourselves to it in spite of the hundreds of reasons that should prevent us from ever taking part in it. No matter the catalog of horrors we shall be reminded of, we shall ignore it when it comes to this special act of violence, believing it will not be us who dies, but them. So, if your reason to fight is because you love what is behind you, or very well hate what is in front you...

Those that call for war are the least likely to take the place of you.

Lining a large rectangular table, were both nobles and knights of note that had sworn their allegiance to Arthur. The area was hidden, surrounded by a large tent that secluded them from the rest of the camp. Spread out across the table was a large map that outlined the area where a battle would soon take place. The room was lit by candle light, the candle being right in the middle of the table. With the corners of the room having their own area of light. Those who were present had tasks that were deemed important enough to be given direct information by the king. At the front of the table was King Arthur, dressed in a blue and gold striped outfit and covered in silver armor.

It had been hours by this point. They planned, discussed and even argued, but Arthur had the final say. The young man commanding absolute authority over everyone in the room. The king, the prophesized "Red Dragon" had by his own merit rallied these men under his cause. A feat in itself with the small amount of time provided.

As talks were discussed by those sitting across from each other, the King sat with a perfect posture. Yet, while it couldn't be outwardly seen, Arthur found himself bothered, lost in his mind over something. Though, he would never say it aloud.

The Saxons, they're my enemies, the invaders who I am to drive away and defeat. To ensure the people that lie in this country can sleep soundly. Today, I shall fight them, leading an army against them... But, I cannot hate them for their goals, nor do I believe them to be evil. They want Britain, my home, as their very own. They wish for a land to call home and I cannot insult such aspirations. But, that isn't what plagues my mind. Arthur thought. A feeling of worry and unease flying over him like a storm cloud.

The weight on his shoulders grew heavier each time he thought about it. Doubt running its way through his heart, wrapping around it, keeping him from getting away from it. It wasn't the responsibility he had as king that weighed on him at this current moment. No, that was something he never worried over, he knew his role, and was resolute with his fate.