Where one travels to,
They may never be content,
Yet, they always know the stars will guide them,
To wherever fate may take them.
One must remember their honor,
One must watch their back,
One must be keen and keep an open mind,
And one must be true to themselves.
Never do anything without need,
You want to live as long as possible,
So take time, look over your foe carefully,
It will become your advantage in the end.
Remember the rule:
If you argue, and let it live, it turns into a fight,
If you fight, and let it live, it turns into a battle,
If you battle, and let it live, it turns into a war,
In a war, you may lose the lives of your allies,
And if you die in the war,
What have you left to say?
- Anonymous
~*~*~*~
No one could deny that the land of Jekaria was beautiful. Forests and rivers covered the landscape, along with the fields and meadows that filled in the empty places. Boulders lay here and there, dotting the country-side like freckles, seemingly thrown haphazardly by some god or giant with nothing in mind as a plan for things. The water was always the clear shade of aquamarine seen in the ocean on a summer day. The trees and fields were green, either transparent or opaque in turn.
The beauty of his country was what Ashi enjoyed most.
The grayish-brown wolf stood at the top of a cliff, looking down onto the panorama that was below. A member of the Jekarian Army, Ashi wore the uniform of a soldier. Small in stature, he was undeniably the runt of his generation. Despite his size, he was also one of the strongest, and therefor, one of the respected; in such an environment that his occupation provided, it was almost needed for survival to be. Tugging at the collar of his attire, he scanned the horizon of his country.
With the kingdom of Alysia to the East, and Mossflower to the West, Jekaria was caught in the middle of two forest countries. The Alysian-Jekarian border was in despute, and so Ashi and his comrades were constantly in battle. The Alysians were known for their brutality in war, and the citizens of Jekaria were peaceful. Ashi's fellow Jekarians would rather avoid conflict entirely, but if Damar wanted to continually move father into their country, they would defend. Thank the gods that Mossflower was peaceful, and had no real monarchy. Otherwise, Ashi had no doubts that Jekaria would be sandwitched between two countries intent on taking over. Mossflower, Country of Forests, was seperated from Ashi's homeland by the Cyswall Mountains, which seemed to form jagged teeth to bite at the sky.
"Ashi!"
The wolf spun around at the vocalization, drawing his sword. Ashi sighed when he saw who it was. Putting his weapon away, he nodded a greeting. One could never be too cautious with the Alysians prowling about.
Talat, one of Ashi's closest friends, was a fox. He was tall for his species, about the same height as Ashi was. A fellow soldier, he wore the same greeny-black attire Ashi did. He walked up next to Ashi and glanced down the cliff.
"You wanted something?" After a moment, Talat nodded.
"Yes. Luka's been looking all over. He wants everyone back to the barracks for the night..." he trailed off, averting his eyes from the view to his friends face. Luka was their superior officer, captain of the army. He always seemed pre-occupied by something, but when things needed to get done, Luka was there. Ashi knew that Luka wouldn't demand that everyone be there if it wasn't important. He knew that the soldiers didn't like to hang around all the time, and was fine with them leaving as long as they didn't go far. Short of another battle, Ashi couldn't see a reason that Luka iwould/i call them. And another battle was what Ashi wanted least.
They had won the last battle, it was sure. But it was far from winning the entire war. The land around the battle site was now covered with blood... blood that seeped into the ground. The woodland would never be clean of it, even years later. Someone would always remember... And most were certain that Jekaria would lose the next battle. And then the war. And what would be left? Nothing of the former country except memories and whisps of smoke.
Raindrops started pattering on the earth; it was as if those beasts of the heavens were crying for their country.
Sighing again, Ashi nodded and made one last look at the landscape of his country. The woods between the two beasts and the barracks loomed darkly in the failing light of sunset.
----
Cimar stood watching clouds move to cover the sky. Soon it would be raining... perfect for the mood over camp. The Alysian General turned and looked over his remaining troops. After the last assault on the Jekarians, he was left with barely over half his origional numbers. The soldiers sat here and there, mud covering their ruddy-brown uniforms until they were entirely caked; the only way you knew the color was that the mixture of blood from wounds and mud was roughly the same shade.
The fox continued staring off into space... if his king wanted this land, he would deliver it to him. But this loss of life seemingly without warrant was just suicide. On their last meeting, Cimar had tried explaining that to his superior.
"We will win the war, General. A few lives mean nothing in the larger sceme," was what he'd been told. Of course he disagreed. Every dead soldier had a mother, father, sister, brother... every one of them friends and family that would mourn the loss. It stood to reason that the king of Cimar's country would grieve the loss, even if he hadn't known the specific casualty.
At times, the Alysian King reminded his general of the Jekarian's own monarch. Mad Othmann was no better than Alysia's ruler, King Daryn. Neither were known for rational choices nor for their compassion and pity for those they ruled. They showed at every chance their total disregaurd for life and their bullheaded-ness in matters. And that was the only reason for the war. Cimar and his fellow officers, along with a few of the king's advisors, had convinced him that a treaty would help him more than Othmann... it was their bad luck that the Jekarian king had refused. At that, many in both countries had fled, knowing that war was emminent. And the soldiers and warriors had taken out their swords, ready to fight for their land to the death. There had to be a peaceful way to figure this out, but with both lands headed by who seemed like tyrants... there was no hope.
The first drop of rain snapped him out of his reflectings. Cimar shook his head wearily, and walked to his tent. There would be no attack tonight, of that he was sure. The Jekarians wouldn't charge; even if Cimar didn't know the Jekarian General that well, he had met Luka enough to know his nature.
And if they did attack... well, then Alysia would lose the battle and the lives of Cimar's troops. They may lose, but Cimar knew he would fight until the end. He loved his country; he would die for it.
The fox sighed looked at the weary soldiers, and realized... if the king didn't care if they lived, neither did he.
They may never be content,
Yet, they always know the stars will guide them,
To wherever fate may take them.
One must remember their honor,
One must watch their back,
One must be keen and keep an open mind,
And one must be true to themselves.
Never do anything without need,
You want to live as long as possible,
So take time, look over your foe carefully,
It will become your advantage in the end.
Remember the rule:
If you argue, and let it live, it turns into a fight,
If you fight, and let it live, it turns into a battle,
If you battle, and let it live, it turns into a war,
In a war, you may lose the lives of your allies,
And if you die in the war,
What have you left to say?
- Anonymous
~*~*~*~
No one could deny that the land of Jekaria was beautiful. Forests and rivers covered the landscape, along with the fields and meadows that filled in the empty places. Boulders lay here and there, dotting the country-side like freckles, seemingly thrown haphazardly by some god or giant with nothing in mind as a plan for things. The water was always the clear shade of aquamarine seen in the ocean on a summer day. The trees and fields were green, either transparent or opaque in turn.
The beauty of his country was what Ashi enjoyed most.
The grayish-brown wolf stood at the top of a cliff, looking down onto the panorama that was below. A member of the Jekarian Army, Ashi wore the uniform of a soldier. Small in stature, he was undeniably the runt of his generation. Despite his size, he was also one of the strongest, and therefor, one of the respected; in such an environment that his occupation provided, it was almost needed for survival to be. Tugging at the collar of his attire, he scanned the horizon of his country.
With the kingdom of Alysia to the East, and Mossflower to the West, Jekaria was caught in the middle of two forest countries. The Alysian-Jekarian border was in despute, and so Ashi and his comrades were constantly in battle. The Alysians were known for their brutality in war, and the citizens of Jekaria were peaceful. Ashi's fellow Jekarians would rather avoid conflict entirely, but if Damar wanted to continually move father into their country, they would defend. Thank the gods that Mossflower was peaceful, and had no real monarchy. Otherwise, Ashi had no doubts that Jekaria would be sandwitched between two countries intent on taking over. Mossflower, Country of Forests, was seperated from Ashi's homeland by the Cyswall Mountains, which seemed to form jagged teeth to bite at the sky.
"Ashi!"
The wolf spun around at the vocalization, drawing his sword. Ashi sighed when he saw who it was. Putting his weapon away, he nodded a greeting. One could never be too cautious with the Alysians prowling about.
Talat, one of Ashi's closest friends, was a fox. He was tall for his species, about the same height as Ashi was. A fellow soldier, he wore the same greeny-black attire Ashi did. He walked up next to Ashi and glanced down the cliff.
"You wanted something?" After a moment, Talat nodded.
"Yes. Luka's been looking all over. He wants everyone back to the barracks for the night..." he trailed off, averting his eyes from the view to his friends face. Luka was their superior officer, captain of the army. He always seemed pre-occupied by something, but when things needed to get done, Luka was there. Ashi knew that Luka wouldn't demand that everyone be there if it wasn't important. He knew that the soldiers didn't like to hang around all the time, and was fine with them leaving as long as they didn't go far. Short of another battle, Ashi couldn't see a reason that Luka iwould/i call them. And another battle was what Ashi wanted least.
They had won the last battle, it was sure. But it was far from winning the entire war. The land around the battle site was now covered with blood... blood that seeped into the ground. The woodland would never be clean of it, even years later. Someone would always remember... And most were certain that Jekaria would lose the next battle. And then the war. And what would be left? Nothing of the former country except memories and whisps of smoke.
Raindrops started pattering on the earth; it was as if those beasts of the heavens were crying for their country.
Sighing again, Ashi nodded and made one last look at the landscape of his country. The woods between the two beasts and the barracks loomed darkly in the failing light of sunset.
----
Cimar stood watching clouds move to cover the sky. Soon it would be raining... perfect for the mood over camp. The Alysian General turned and looked over his remaining troops. After the last assault on the Jekarians, he was left with barely over half his origional numbers. The soldiers sat here and there, mud covering their ruddy-brown uniforms until they were entirely caked; the only way you knew the color was that the mixture of blood from wounds and mud was roughly the same shade.
The fox continued staring off into space... if his king wanted this land, he would deliver it to him. But this loss of life seemingly without warrant was just suicide. On their last meeting, Cimar had tried explaining that to his superior.
"We will win the war, General. A few lives mean nothing in the larger sceme," was what he'd been told. Of course he disagreed. Every dead soldier had a mother, father, sister, brother... every one of them friends and family that would mourn the loss. It stood to reason that the king of Cimar's country would grieve the loss, even if he hadn't known the specific casualty.
At times, the Alysian King reminded his general of the Jekarian's own monarch. Mad Othmann was no better than Alysia's ruler, King Daryn. Neither were known for rational choices nor for their compassion and pity for those they ruled. They showed at every chance their total disregaurd for life and their bullheaded-ness in matters. And that was the only reason for the war. Cimar and his fellow officers, along with a few of the king's advisors, had convinced him that a treaty would help him more than Othmann... it was their bad luck that the Jekarian king had refused. At that, many in both countries had fled, knowing that war was emminent. And the soldiers and warriors had taken out their swords, ready to fight for their land to the death. There had to be a peaceful way to figure this out, but with both lands headed by who seemed like tyrants... there was no hope.
The first drop of rain snapped him out of his reflectings. Cimar shook his head wearily, and walked to his tent. There would be no attack tonight, of that he was sure. The Jekarians wouldn't charge; even if Cimar didn't know the Jekarian General that well, he had met Luka enough to know his nature.
And if they did attack... well, then Alysia would lose the battle and the lives of Cimar's troops. They may lose, but Cimar knew he would fight until the end. He loved his country; he would die for it.
The fox sighed looked at the weary soldiers, and realized... if the king didn't care if they lived, neither did he.