Myridia -> FOR MYRIDIA

FOR MYRIDIA, -The end of BG Zane Sangre-

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Zane Sangre	Posted: May 4 2009, 04:21 PM Quote
Brigadier General Group: Military Posts: 562 Member No.: 13 Joined: 22-February 08	This was it. Zane’s dark brown eyes were on the earth before him. The last time he’d see it. He could feel the wind, smoke resting on its waves as it touched his face, dirty, bloody and riddled with cuts. He could feel the heat of war on his back, each muscle in his body protesting after each shove or step he took. Behind him, he heard the sounds of other soldiers, other noble men who didn’t want to give in, also bound, marching behind their leader. Zane had spat in their faces, had been stripped of his armor down to his shirt and trousers and boots. They’d taken his sword, everything he held valuable, everything on his body from the time Ashar had taken Myridia. He let them, he didn’t care, when they told him it was over, he spat in their faces, told them it was never over, he would fight until he died. So they sealed his fate. They tied his hands, in the same rope that held them now, they shoved him around, and now, along with hundreds others, they were marching him to his death. Zane lifted his gaze to the heavens, smoke pooling around a hot sun. Crows sang sorrowful cries into the sky, soaring as the lost souls of war. Zane looked away, looking to the people…the Myridians that were around, the Asharian soldiers who stood there, bloody, but victorious, on his home. He looked away from them, looking forward, staring into the back of the man before him, leading the way. Where was Balieska? Was he running free, did he know that his master was about to die? Would Balieska take Zane’s soul from this world into the next, into his heart and race the plateau in honor of the Brigadier General? Where was Dorian? Burning in the stacks on the plateau? Where were his other soldiers, had they defected? Zane pondered…then he shook his head slowly. Trivial thoughts, they didn’t matter now, not when he marched to his end. Would these other soldiers see? Would Zuna be there? Zane wondered, and slowly realized how glad he was he was dying. So he’d never know the real answers, because…as a spirit, gone from one world, he’d never remember the questions to begin with. That was the best part of it all, he didn’t have to care what tomorrow would be anymore, because tomorrow…he’d never knew came. The war…had been so hard. Seeing so many die, seeing so many live, seeing the pain and suffering, the hope fade to doom. Watching valiant, foolishly faithful faces turn into cold, knowing expressions. They would not live, each man knew it, as soon as the first battle upon Kalen, they knew they would not survive. Zane knew it, but he hoped, until yesterday, he had hoped every waking second he would live to see his wife and children, to raise a large family, to remain Brigadier General until someone else could take the noble chair. To watch his military come from an against the odds rank, and pass into something of legend. It would never happen, that dream had died along with all the soldiers this morning. It was already flying on the wings of the eagles, never to touch the hearts of any who knew of it. There was a crowd, Massive. They were standing before him, and Zane could see them watching. Watching as both Asharians and Myridians, neutral people who had chosen the god king. Traitors to their own country. Zane couldn’t blame some, mothers of the soldiers, wives who wanted their children to live to see a brighter world. But yet, here they stood, ready to show their children what happens to those who disobey. Perhaps the cruelest way to teach anyone not to disobey. What did Zane care anyway? His death was moments away, he would kneel before them all, high on a platform, a basket before his face as he rested his throat on a stone. A man would stand near him, call him the Brigadier General one last time, his soldiers would cheer their final war cry, he would take his final breath, and he would die. He would never know it was coming, he would never hear it, and he wouldn’t remember. Because in an hour, he would be a soul on the wind, living only in the past, and never the future. It was a good thing, for him at least. His past had been good, ups and downs, but with an uncertain future, he was more happy to end it now, end it as a soldier, even though beaten, he had fought with the fury of a hundred men, and he would die alongside a hundred of them. His steps got heavier. As soon as his eyes landed on the platform that was his final standing ground, he realized what he was really facing. The end. He was facing his last moments with a pulse, his last moments to breathe, his last smile, his last sunlight. What did Zefir feel when he died? Was it painful? Did it end quickly? He was smiling wasn’t he, when Zane carried him out? Zane had no expression now. Did Zefir have one then? Perhaps the situations were too different to compare. Zane wasn’t sure, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care, now that he realized. He was done caring, because he couldn’t care anymore, he wouldn’t be around long enough to really impact anyone with caring. His life was ending, and he would end it with a smile on his face, a song in his heart, and with the sun smiling down on him. With the image of Balieska running free, Zuna raising their son, and with…he hoped, seeing his soldiers…and Zefir, one more time. There was shouting, he turned his head as he heard footfalls near him, someone slammed into him, arms around his shoulders. Her head tucked tight into his neck as her body shook with sobs. He froze solid, Asharians around him yelling. Soldiers began prying at the woman, and Zane stepped forward, back into her as she was pulled away. He tucked his head down, pressing a kiss against her head. She was crying, she said she loved him, and when she looked up at him he smiled at her, and shook his head. “Love him more.” He motioned with his chin down, speaking but to her, knowing she would hear him, knowing the Asharians couldn’t understand. He smiled at her, and leaned down as she leaned up, pressing his lips against hers in one final taste of his wife, one final kiss…his goodbye. They finally yanked her away, and pushed her back into the crowd. He looked away, his throat constricting as he was pushed forward, and led up the steps. It was as he’d seen it, the stone block, the man with the ax, the basket and the crowd watching him. There was a general here, Zane didn’t know his name, and didn’t care to, but he stepped up to him, and gave the man a smile. Zane was then pushed forward by two more soldiers, and forced to his knees. He did so, and knelt before the stone, eyeing the clean basket, the clean rock. His gaze turned to the crowd, scanning each person’s face, people cried, others were expressionless, many more seemed…confused. Zane turned to look at his soldiers, and he smiled to them. They stared at him, and many nodded their heads to him. It was right, Zane realized, to die for his country, because dying for them…dying for the soldiers he fought alongside, meant that he was a true Myridian, it meant he was the right man to lead them. They were speaking behind him, barbaric Asharian tongue. Zane ignored it, he stared at the crowd, a smile growing across his face. With a breath, perhaps his last intake of sweet Myridian air, he lowered his chin, his throat resting on the stone, feeling the cold against his skin. Where was his Myridian summer breeze, sweeping the plateau, touching everything Zane had ever known, and coming to him, pushing into his hair and his skin, touching him like a lovers caress. Where was his Myridian earth, smelling of flowers, of fresh tree’s and tall grasses. Firm and solid, as the city was, even still is. Where was his Myridian sky, blue and shining, as noble and bright as the banners that waved her presence. Where as his sun, shimmering light and life unto the plateau, blessing them with a smile and warmth each day, even now it touched him, holding him like a mothers hug, keeping him warm, the false belief he was safe. Where were his people. Before him they stood, proud and strong, even their tears, no matter how many, were strong. Those were the men, women, children he fought for. Where were his soldiers, who fought beside him, who lived until this day, who were willing to follow his example, willing to put their lives down for Myridia. Men and women, brave people, noble souls who were ready for this, and more so when Zane led the way once more. He didn’t have to, he couldn’t bargained to live he supposed, but it was better this way, for all he loved this land, his wife, and these people. He was a soldier until the end. From the day he joined, he gave a vow to serve. The day he took Brigadier General, he vowed to live and die for the military, for Myridia. So the nobles could sit pretty and the peasants could farm their fields, he vowed to live for them, and die for them. If this was that vow, he would do it, because he believed in such things. Zane would always believe. The man to his left stood beside him, raising the ax. Zane took another breath, and turned his eyes to the crowd. Where was she? He wanted to see her face most of all before he died. There, standing as beautiful as ever, was his wife. The mother of his child. The woman who vowed it all to him, and who he vowed it all to. Until death do them part. He hoped she lived a good life, raised good children, even if she found another man, but still thought of him, he wished her the best, because he had given her nothing in return. He’d given her love, perhaps yes, but now…now he was giving her his death, he was giving her his final goodbye. And he loved her, from the moment he met her, until the moment he’d never remember, he loved her most of all. Zane closed his eyes, smiling as he did. ”Balieska…stay strong and free. Zuna, love that child more than you’ve loved anyone….Myridia…keep your faith….Zefir…my brothers in arms…I’ll see you soon.” Zane lifted his eyes, opening the shimmering warm chocolate to the sun, a smile on his face was strong and proud, and in his exhale, he spoke the only words which meant the most, which would mean the most. “For Myridia.” --------------------
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