There are moments when even the strongest resolve wavers.
Such was also the case for Audrey Gassenarl. Usually, she would question nothing about the rebels' and her own actions. She would launch volleys of rockets at unarmed darcsen villages and order her troops to shoot people who weren't even fighting back. In her mind it was the right thing to do, the will of the gods themselves.
The day's battles, or perhaps it would be more accurate to refer to most of those events as massacres - though she didn't think of them in that way, had ended and she had retreated to castle Gassenarl. It was evening, which meant that it soon was time for her daily prayers. It had been a good day for the rebel side. She herself had tested out an improved type of gatling for her tank and she couldn't complain about the results. The darcsens she had tried it on had seemed to fall faster than ever. It should prove useful in confrontations with the military too.
Suddenly, a scene from earlier in the day began to play in her head. In her mind appeared a young darcsen girl carrying a stuffed animal, a fox. Back when she had been at around the same age Audrey herself had wanted to keep one as a pet, but her father hadn't let her. The next moment, a shot pierced the dark-haired girl's chest. Red stained the fox as it fell out of her hands. The girl fell on top of it, a pool of crimson forming beneath her.
For a moment, a strange feeling took hold of the rebel commander. Questions she normally never would consider flew through her head in masses. Regret? As soon as she realized what had taken hold of her, she shook it off.
There was nothing to regret about her actions, she told herself. As long as they were darcsens, age didn't matter. Nor did anything else. They were sinners only deserving of death. It was the will of the valkyrur, the will of the gods. She gripped the blue gem she carried around her neck.
"Forgive my moment of weakness," Audrey whispered before she moved on to her evening prayers.