To die for your country was meant to be a noble and empowering experience

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To die for your country was meant to be a noble and empowering experience. To the knight lying in the mud it didn't feel that way. He could still hear the distant clash of steel and feel the rain splattering down onto his skin. The healers' voice seemed to be coming from a long way off and his vision was becoming hazy.

Somewhere someone was begging him to hold on, to stay awake, telling him it was all going to be alright. The ironic side of him laughed, how often had he uttered those meaningless words, 'It's going to be fine, you're going to be alright', for they were meaningless and he knew it. Death was coming for him as surely as night follows day.

He hadn't meant to die today, hadn't really meant to fight at all. He'd been travelling with a bunch of men from Fort Steadfast to New Hope when the enemy had attacked. The sparrows hadn't warned them that had been his last coherent thought before the arrow pierced his side. That hadn't been what had landed him in this predicament though, no that had been the mace blow to his stomach. They had been so badly outnumbered, eleven Tortallen soldiers against fifty, hardly a fair fight.

Now all around him he could hear his men's dying groans, they had sounded the alarm, sounded it until the surrounded hills had rung with the clear sounds of the horn. Help had arrived as well, but it was too late. He'd lost too much blood to be saved now.

His dying regret would be that he'd never gotten to see his baby girl grow up, that she'd never know her daddy….

He was fading fast now, every breath was a struggle, his eyes were closing of their own accord, well it seemed silly to keep them open when he was so, so tired. He thought he could hear his cousins' voice, but it must be a dream, fact and fiction were hard to separate now.

With a final sigh Sir Nealen of Queenscove passed from this realm into the Dark God's.

That didn't stop Dom from shaking his cousin's body hopelessly, begging him to wake up, promising that he'd never ever utter the word 'Meathead' again if he would only open his eyes…

Of course Neal couldn't hear him, he and his squad and arrived minutes too late to do anything other then kill the remaining bandits, for that was all they were, bandits, peace between Tortall and Scanra having been declared mere hours earlier.

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