Cold Heart
Prologue
Cold… so… cold…
We've won! he shouted in his minds eye, free from the battle and the pain at last. He held a limp form close to him as if it would be the last time that he would hold that person.
"We've won Iselda!", he screamed, almost letting the madness claim him… almost.
"Y-yes, it looks as if we have", Iselda said weakly.
"Iselda!", he shouted, startling her, "We're the only ones…"
"Hush", she said, putting a finger to his lips, "We have survived this battle against the death corps, my knight, and I do not think that we will have to worry about them ever again."
"You must save your strength ,Iselda, for you were pierced by a lancer's spear in battle." Bodies lie strewn about the two like discarded rag dolls.
"I am wounded mortally, I fear, and I will not last the night.", Iselda told him painfully.
"NO! Don't speak of such things, love," he said agonizingly, "I do not think I could bear it if you left me after all of this…"
"I'm sorry…", Iselda said as her breathing slowed, "I truly am. Goodbye my love, goodbye Kreven Grovaire…" And then her breathing stopped.
* * * * * *
He buried her that night. Under the stars that she had loved so very, very much. Along with her he buried the others. Friend, enemy, it didn't matter anymore. The toils of war had taken so very many things from him, from everyone. The 'Lion War' had taken Delita's beloved sister, Tita. And his beloved Iselda. Almost no part of the land was left unscathed. But he didn't care for any of that now, or never would he again (or so he thought). He had buried many people. Knights had a certain amount of honor to uphold and so he didn't believe in leaving someone unburied. But neither would he do it again. He buried her under a tree in a meadow, but he lost one valuable thing that he needed most of all that night… his heart.