It wasn't long ago that I stood on the battlefield. It was only a short while ago that my hands were weighed down by a rifle and I pulled its trigger with mechanical accuracy ignoring the souls of enemies that wished to torture me as their friends and comrades dropped dead in a bloody cascade of bodies. It hasn't been that long since my nostrils were forced to marinate in the stench of corpses and gunpowder, the two signs that invariably accompanied my arrival on the battlefield and conveyed how cruel reality truly is to both me and all the other breathing corpses lining the battlefield.
These two hands of mine were and are still tools for the sake of snuffing out the lives of my fellow humans. It's sad how jaded I've become, especially after I was so happy to be able to work in the same platoon as my mentor and hero; Blake Belladonna and even more so because the platoon's leader was my own elder sister. I always admired their neat, black uniforms that fluttered elegantly with each step they took. Yang always told me that those uniforms were nothing like their actual wartime attire, I had no idea how real her words were until I personally joined the ranks and was stationed in the front lines. The mud-plastered, camouflage uniform baked with sweat solitarily murdered my idea of a neat and clean military life.
My first day as a recruit was anything but pleasant. The war with Vale's neighbouring kingdoms forced the country to start recruiting eligible youths. Young adults full of patriotism found themselves being led into joining the military. Though I can't say I was completely different there was one factor about me that was decidedly different, that being the fact that I knew how terrible and irrational war truly was.
I can recall vividly the horrid tremors of undignified wailing that inelegantly slid down my cheeks after hearing of my mom's, Summer Rose's, death. My gut felt torn and my heart seemed to pragmatically drip remorse. The darkness that overcame my soul allowed me to sink into a place where only dread seemed to remain. The solitary light in my life from that point on was my sister, but with this recent war she was drafted by the military; and so I followed her.