This Is Where It Begins

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A great amount of human bodies moved sporadically, crowded too close for the fight ensuing. Fire, wind, thunder and dark magics filled the dim grey sky as the sound of clanking and grinding metals meet each other.

Shouts of encouragement rise up from one side, mingled in with the cries of the injured and distressed yells of those fighting. It was a blood bath, one side being completely decimated as the other tear through as if the opposing side of humans were only blades of grass.

"It's all your fault!" one person screams at a woman, she stands calmly, though her eyes full of dismay and fear as she pulls off a string of wind magic towards surrounding enemies. She is from the side that appears to be losing, the voice yells again, "You shouldn't have lead us here! Call a retreat!"

The simple soldier strangles on his words as he falls, an axe straight through his head. The magic-user reacts all too wrongly, becoming more distressed and losing focus, causing her tomes to cut down anyone near her.

"Maelys!"  The man she trusted above all others calls.

But she cannot hear the voice, she's breaking down, it all became too much. She's not the leader she should be, she lead hundreds of people to their deaths. She brought her friends to their graves.

They all die because of her.

"Maelys!" Ricken shouts, bursting through the tent flaps and allowing bright morning sun to flood into the small enclosed space.

My eyes fly open at the voice, crazed and confused, and sweat rolls down my back and my hair is sticking to my neck.

"Are you alright?" the young mage asks, walking further into my private quarters, he was known to be a kind and caring person, always checking up on the others. I know this, so I bite my tongue from being crass with him.

It was just a nightmare.

I  pull up to a sitting position, replying to the concerned friend. "I am fine," those were the only words I would utter, there was nothing to share with him, not to mention I kind of hated mornings, being woken up and nightmares. There was no doubt that if I spoke more, many mean words would come spilling out.

Ricken takes a few moments to ponder this, so I bring my legs out of the bedding, and rise up to my feet.  "I'm sure the whole encampment heard you screaming."

While he had been speaking, I had been walking over to a bowl full of water, I had set it out last night so I could wash my face quickly in the morning and be on my way, yet his words caused me to accidentally hit the bowl the wrong way and it goes crashing down onto the ground, the precious water that I needed to use to wash away the sleep and the nightmare, now spilled all over the dirt, creating a muddy mess.

"Gods.." I mutter, staring down at it helplessly.

I may be called a great ttactician and could lead an army to victory, but doing regular things for myself, just was not my forte.

The chuckling coming from behind me only serves to irritate me more as I whip around, "Get out or i'll cut you to pieces." I growl, reacting without thinking.

Instantly, the young man shuts up, "I was just worried about you.." he says quietly, his face falling like he was being reprimanded by a parent. The way he became just like a child again, pulls at me, making me feel like a terrible person and I realize I need to think before acting sometimes.

"Ricken," I start, wiping a hand over my face and feeling the oil pooled up in places, "I'm sorry, I'm just not in a good mood this morning.."

He walks over to me and lays a hand on my shoulder, we are the same height, and I guess near the same age, yet I felt and acted way more mature than the mage did. I didn't know what my age was though, I only assumed it was around 20ish now, based on appearances.

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