End of a battle EDITNormally, I am used to the smells of death and winter commingling on a vulture-ridden battlefield. I also, however, am normally one of the people that miraculously escape from a fight relatively unscathed, with only a nasty scrape or two, or perhaps some broken bones.More Like This
Apparently, this battle wanted to teach me to count my blessings and not take them for granted.
I had a slice across my front torso stretching from my right shoulder to my left hip, a scrape from the bottom of my left eye down to my chin, and many more cuts and bruises I had yet to account for and decide where they were from. On top of that, an arrow had grazed my right leg, missing my knee by barely more than a few centimeters. My horse was probably dead, along with most of the men I had known and befriended on the long march towards the Altican capital city of Carinthe.
I hadnt opened my eyes yet, for I was too exhausted and weak to come to terms with the amount of death throughout the land. I opened my eyes and b