When I'm stressed, I tend to escape to the clubs because the pulsating music blocks my thoughts. The flashing lights blind me from reality. The battlefield can have the same effect.

The gunshots arrive in rhythm; the lights flash, causing a pounding behind my eyes. I try to focus my vision, but dirt has clouded it. I rub my eyes. Warmth spreads across my eyes. I pull my hand away from my face and see red, so much red. But the blood isn't coming from my hands; no, my side has been stabbed. Twice. I need to tend to it, but all I can think about is how I am the only living being left in the trench. Trench? I questioned the tactic from the very beginning. It might give us protection, but it also leaves us vulnerable for an all-across attack. And that's what happened. The Cronads did what I would've done; they gathered together, and from above, they attacked. Deadly magic poured through our men. Death wasn't calling, it was screaming. We could do nothing but shoot rapid-fire, and even that wasn't enough. Bodies fell left and right, some of them were taken. And me?

That's what I can't figure out. How am I alive? How am I still in the trench? It all happened so fast. Everything erupted at once: gunshots, arrows, knives. And while everything turned to chaos, I remained untouched. Well, besides for the two gashes in my side. I look down at my wounds. I graze my hand over them and take a sharp inhale due to the growling pain.

And then darkness.

* * *

I wake up to a grey sky and confusion. My body aches. My mind races. There's silence for the first time in months. For a moment, I panic, thinking I've gone deaf. But I can hear the ground move as my body adjusts upright. Shit. I feel that familiar warmth. I'm still bleeding. I push myself up off of the ground and take in the view. Dead bodies cover the majority of the trench. I peer over the opening of the ditch and see absolutely nothing. I climb out. The battlefield is barren. Empty. Some weapons remain, but the only human here is me.

Kayon is mostly jungle. When we first arrived, I could not get over how tall the trees were. I wanted to climb them- all of them. But that fantasy ended when the man next to me was sliced into half by some invisible force. The next few weeks consisted of running and hiding. And killing. A lot of killing.

I don't think ending someone's life will ever feel natural to me. With every kill, I felt myself become less of a human.

* * *

I remember sitting with him. Staring at him. He told me that I was cursed. I asked why. He said that a face like mine would only get me in trouble. I blushed. He shook his head. It's inhumane, he said. I disagreed. He then grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me. A sort of kiss that left me worried I might not make it past that moment. And then it happened. Sirens. Gunshots. Bombs. Screaming. Blood. We were called into action. We were both talented soldiers. We had been training for years.

That's how we met. The base. We were at each other's throats for the longest time. But one day, in the midst of one of our daily arguments, he pushed me against the wall, and something changed. His eyes softened. I was terrified. He was much larger than me. That is not to say I wasn't large- no, I'm adequately built. But he was huge. And when his face got closer to mine, I thought he was going to tear me apart. And he did. Just not in the way I had initially thought.

Ever since that day, about five years ago, we had never been apart. And we never fought. Never argued. Well, never a real argument. We were perfect. But he's gone. A part of me thinks I should give up. What's the point? He was the only thing I had. No family. No friends. Just him. And that was enough. More than enough. But if I would give up, he would never forgive me. And I cannot take that chance. So, I've been telling myself that I will do anything to survive.

When I found out that he had died, I said nothing- did nothing. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Perhaps I just took it really well. After a week went by, I asked the reporter how he died. He said he didn’t know, but I could assume it was fighting the enemy. I braved myself and asked if they kept the body. He told me that too many bodies had been piling up, so they burned them all. He looked at me sympathetically. I wasn’t angry. Relieved, perhaps. To see the man I loved lifeless would be the end of me. But I never got to say goodbye, and that left a stain on my soul more significant than I would care to admit.

* * * 

My thoughts were interrupted by agonizing pain as a sudden wind hit my wounded side. I clench my teeth and hiss. I need to find shelter, but more importantly, I need to tend to my wounds. I’m not sure how I’m going to go about that. I will have to scour the forest for some leaves to cover the open skin.

I head into the vast green. The battlefield was a random clearing that was mostly flat, grassy land. But surrounding it was a jungle that went on for hundreds of miles.

After walking about one minute, I fully emerge into the infinite jungle. I look up. Beautiful. It shouldn't be this beautiful. This...breathtaking. I have never seen anything like it. Trees as tall as buildings. So much green. Arkine isn't exactly known for its nature. It's a land of industry and technology. There are some botanical gardens, but other than that, it would be very rare to see a tree, let alone a towering tree, in Arkine.

For a moment, I think about my birthplace. I think about how I miss technology- the ease of it. I think about my friends...my Adam...

I find a giant plant that has leaves the size of my torso. I rip a few off and slump down against a tree. But I can't stay on the ground. There are too many venomous crawlers beneath the dirt. Actually, the entire Kayon is poisonous. Or that’s what we were told. The Kayonese people. Ruthless and wild.

The war had broken out somewhere far away from here, but soldiers were shipped off all around the world. Kayon was the dreaded one. When I heard I was being sent here my heart dropped. I never thought I’d die in Kayon. Alone. Adam was sent to Viv. I had never been to Viv, but I knew it was better than Kayon. By far. He would be fighting on ally soil. For that, I was eternally grateful. Perhaps he died in a pleasant way? I laugh at my childish thought. To die pleasantly in war? I sound like a madman.

I was never the best climber, so as I am sitting against the tree and look up and cannot see the top of it, my throat tightens. But my life depends on it now, so I don’t have much of a choice, do I?

I begin climbing. I slip. I claw. I panic. Blood streams down my body from my two wounds, so with one hand, I rip off a piece of my shirt and shove the cloth in my mouth to muffle my screams. I can’t be heard. If the Kayons discover me- I stifle the thought.

Blood mixed with sweat and dirt and soon followed by a well of tears. My side practically screamed at me. My head was dizzy with pain. I was now so high up the tree, the ground below disappeared. I decide to climb a bit higher to a larger branch and slumped against it. My limbs fall to my sides, and I shut my burning eyes.

* * *

When I open them again, the air is thick with silence. The wind doesn’t dare to make a sound. The jungle is frozen. Confusion courses through my body. I slowly climb down the tree, surprised to be alive. When I reach the ground, I take a few steps in every direction, scanning the area. Nothing. Where is everything- everyone? That’s when I hear it. Chanting. Drums. I feel a pain so guttural, I almost vomit. I tell myself not to follow it. To run away. To find safety. But I’ve never been a cautious person and now wasn’t the time to start.

The Kayonese were known for their chants. Haunting and ominous sounds. Their voices were in unison, loud and mighty. I follow the sound. After about a minute of walking, I see it. The crowd of half-dressed people. Skin tan from dirt and sun. I can’t see what they are gathering around. I climb another tree- shorter this time. It is a miracle my arms have remained attached to my body. Their hair is blue. Dark, almost black. It was known that they had blue hair. It is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Thick, shiny, and extremely messy. They all looked somewhat unhinged. The women seem to have longer hair than the men, but from what I can see, some men also have long hair. I see children too. They are screaming the chant. Some are even playing the drums. Their faces are serious- far too serious for children. It makes me think of the House. The early days, that is.

But then I see what they encircled. Four soldiers, beaten and bloody, stripped from their uniforms, naked. I knew them. They disappeared shortly after the fighting began. We assumed they had died. They probably wished they had.

They are scared. Terrified. Their arms and legs are tied with rope against a wooden pole. I look on with horror. Suddenly, the chant ends and the largest man I’ve have ever seen approaches the soldiers. They were trembling. He begins to speak.

“Here lies the enemy, broken and submissive. We have triumphed. Now, the gods have allowed us to collect the spoils of the war. Who will claim their prize?”

The Kayonese people speak the common tongue. They have their own language, but I assume they wanted the soldiers to understand. They were ruthless in that way. A man approaches the leader. I feel my heart begin to race, practically slamming against my ribcage. I have seen the videos. I have seen what they can do. I want to look away. I want to but I can’t. The man speaks.

“I will take that one. I will ruin him in front of my people. For my people. I will fill him with Kayon. I will make him know who we are.”

My body, if it wasn’t before, freezes. Panic. Panic. Panic. Look away. Auriel, run away, dammit! I am useless. I am too weak to fight. Even if I was in perfect health, I could not take an entire Kayonese tribe. I stare in silence and horror. The first soldier is untied from the post and is shoved down on his stomach. The Kayon man removes his pants, and the crown begins to chant again. John. His name. The soldier. John whimpers as the man defiles him. The other three look away. When it is over, the man takes a knife and plunges into John’s heart. And then he goes for a second round using the blood as the lubricant. My guts whirl inside of me. Auriel, stop. You can’t change anything. I climb down and race towards the crowd. Adam, this isn’t me giving up. This is me being stupid. I have no power. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t just do nothing. So, I stumble out to the center of the crowd and yell as loud as I can.

“Kayon. Please have mercy. Soldiers are not leaders. Just messengers.”

The people turn towards me, a broken boy, and smirk. They knew I had just ended my own life. I swallow my fear. I step forward so I can adequately face the leader. He smiles. I hold back tears.

"Are you foolish? Are you brave? Is there a difference?"

I look over at my peers. They look at me with shock, followed by knowing sorrow. Then, the leader stares at me with greater focus than I'd like, and something flashes across his face. Realization, perhaps.

"I must say, I thought they were gifts from the gods, but you, oh, you are the true gift. The gods have given us the most valuable gift! Kayon! Behold the golden boy! The prophecy was correct. The golden boy is within our midst. His beauty and bravery are even more than the gods have said! The boy is here. The golden boy is here!"

Before I could think about how absurd this whole situation is, I blackout.