Marth spat on his dead body, code name Flaming Masamune. Another scum bag probably one of the few who keep these wars going. He sat done on a stump and pondered into our existence. "You ok," said a delicate female voice.
"Yeah I'm fine" Marth said as he looked up at what had to be one of the most beautiful creatures in the whole world. She was his age 15, she had long beautiful blonde hair that seemed like gold in the wind, and her blue eyes sparkled like fireflies in a summer's eve.
The two teens looked at the carnage in front of them over 10 dead bodies of their allies and enemies lying drowned in their own blood. Pokemon we're trying to wake their masters but it was no good. They we're in eternal peace. Marth wished his world were more peaceful and calm and so that people could sleep in their beds at night safely.
With aid of their pokemon, Rhydon and Tauros, graves were made for the fallen. A small Pichu sat their still attempting to wake his trainer. Marth looked down on the body it was a young boy. He had joined hoping to make a difference he had made one. He would make his mother cry, his comrades joyous from their victory, but most importantly he had protected a small village. The few solders and enemy units we're escorted back to the village hospital for treatment.
Marth sipped his tea as the Pichu from the young boy cried on his lap. He dried its tears and put it to sleep in a small bassinet. "What are you goanna do with him?" said the girl.
"Keep him" Marth said with much grief "it was my fault that kid died, it's the least I can do." Marth went out side and made a call on his cell phone to HQ. They had won the battle he reported the dead bodies and captured enemy units.
Marth walked back inside and sighed. He took out the picture of his best friends. The 8 of them were care free. Hands not soiled from killing, back then it was fun. Back then they we're a real family, back then... Marth only wished his life could go back, back then.