A young, sandy haired boy ran across a golden field, leading his friends along. They all weilded broken sticks as swords, shouting various things they swore fealty to, all seeming silly to the grown-ups, but no less heartfelt in the minds of the future soldiers, younger knights-in-training, or simply training merchant boys with imaginations greater than their dreams.
If one could look closely, it was a same golden field where not too long ago, a battle of good versus evil was fought, one of man versus beast. The land had seen the effects of that battle, with many-times trampled grass covering a tainted land so sick that it was almost sure that nothing would thrive there ever again. Many had died, and blood had shed of both foe and friend alike, reduced to nothing in body, but not in memory.
And it is because of this, that they remember.
They had foolishly believed that the darkspawn be completely gone, a false hope to quickly cling to in a desperate time, if only to ease their minds from the terrible ordeal that the last Blight brought. They had believed they would then be untouchable, whether from dark creatures of the night, or of more human dangers in the light of day. But alas, such was not the case.
Past the golden field, and into the city walls, both now thriving with life anew, there is now a statue. In its new and current state, when people walk past, they can recount the individual stories of horror, sitting like an ache in their chests. They can pass said stories onto future generations, ones lucky to have missed such a trying time that happened to their very home. One can even hope that they'll be passed on further than that. But if not, the statue will remain: a large and impressively inspiring (of both awe and fear) griffon, forever immortalized with spread wings and upraised front legs, beak open wide in a silenced cry that echoes through the hearts of the many survivors. It's a cry that sings of glory yet to come to the land it stands watch over, and yet it's also of one that will always truly sing of the unsung heroes that gave everything they possibly could to make it so.
And it is because of this, that they never forget.
AN: Short story is short, but we still should take the time to hug a veteran this up and coming Monday. Just because it's easy to see in a game, on TV, or in a history book doesn't make this any less real or far away from us.