Night.

They say that light shines the brightest in the darkest of nights.

If that were so, then a candle would shine brighter than the sun.

But it doesn't.

It hardly shines at all.

I can barely see him under its glow.

"Zack, is that you?" he asks as I walk by.

"Yeah. How's the arm?"

Taking the seat beside him, I see the stain seeping through the bandages.

I grasp it loosely, eyeing it for signs of poison.

Would it be wrong to say I was disappointed to see none?

Poison is a swift death, and a painless one at that.

Out there on the battlefield, there is no guarantee.

You could be dead in a second, or left there fatally wounded for hours, waiting for the last of your blood to pour out.

I've seen it far too often.

Friends to whom I could only deliver the final blow.

Some would say that was cruel, inhuman even.

After so long on the battlefield, I oftentimes wonder if I'm still human myself.

"I'll live," he says, completely unwrapping it for now. He flinches at the sting of fresh air on it.

I want to respond 'How long' to him but surely he knows as well as the rest of us.

The numbers.

The reports.

And the darkness that invades our every moment.

No one can lie and say it isn't real

No one can hide in the shelter of hope.

No one, not even I, can dream of a time when this will pass.

Some said the truest of humanity would be born in the absence of hope.

Poets spoke words of wisdom.

Musicians played hymns of hope.

Preachers gave speeches of salvation.

But it's funny how little words truly mean.

When one is kept from the light, the chords can only carry a man so far.

Loving promises feel so far away when family is only a memory.

One might wonder how I made it through, taken from my friends, kept in their claws for reasons I never learned.

It's scary what one will become when it's a matter of survival.

It wasn't even life then, only survival.

I sit silently with my brother for a time, his cot barely enough room for him, but we make it work.

Words are sparse between us.

They have been ever since I got back.

We know any words would only bring the fear back.

We know the nightmares

We know the loss

We know the times we tried to drown away the pain.

But it remains, just the same.

"We assemble in 15," the general says.

"Yes sir," we instinctively reply.

What some time in the military does to a man.

People join for many reasons.

Some for glory

Some to protect

Some for a new life

And some, like me, not knowing what the hell they're getting into.

"Are you ready?" I ask after a few more silent seconds.

"Are we ever?" he asks with weary eyes. Eyes that have seen too much, cried too much, eyes that lost their innocent gleam long ago.

He fiddles with his boot, the wrong size making it difficult for him. I lean over next to him, help him slide the swollen ankle into it.

"Thanks."

This close, I can see the sweat building on his brow, despite the frozen air.

He's scared.

He tries not to let it show, all of us do, because we all know, any fear will destroy us. We're only together because we have no other choice, held by the foolish assumption that strength in numbers is the only way we can survive.

But numbers aren't on our side.

We're outnumbered ten to one, and that's only the enemy that's here.

Supplies aren't on our side.

We've had to cut back meals to almost nothing, our weapons are held together by duct tape and prayer.

Endurance isn't on our side.

The enemy can travel hundreds of miles in a day, and still have the stamina to fight for hours on end.

Fighting ability isn't on our side.

Our leaders know nothing of war; many of our solders are kids, never properly trained how to use a weapon or how to survive when war breaks out.

Hope is not on our side.

We have no hope

We hold no light

We see no victory

And yet…we fight.

"Zack?"

"Yeah Cody?"

"I love you."

"Love you too buddy."

Is love enough to turn back the darkness?

I doubt it.

But it's the only weapon we've got.


A/N A piece brought forth from the sudden bursts of inspiration I love so well.

Image taken from: deviantart dot com slash ?qh=§ion=&q=night#/dv7pee