“Well done son.” Emperor Valos smiled proudly looking at Moon. They two were leaving the war council room having just finished the latest meeting and were now walking back to the families private living quarters as the hour was now very late. His father’s guards were present of course but kept a respectful distance behind them so that they could speak freely.

   “Thank you, father.” Moon had returned to Cync at the summoning of his father. Apparently, the quick rise through the ranks had caught his attention.

   “This war needs good fighting men who are dedicated to the cause. When a war has lasted as long as ours this becomes increasingly difficult to find as it become a way of life to the people.”

 “Yes father.”

 “I believe you are ready now to take on more than just mindlessly following orders from the top. I believe you are ready to make decisions concerning the flow of the battle. Of course, you automatically begin to control these things as a captain, but I am referring to something a little more than that.” Moon looked at his father with interest as they walked down the long hall.

 “I want you to lead a special unit. You would be leading them on a trial run this time, but the hope is that we would make a new squadron classification to specialize in these types of missions.”

  “What type of mission is it?”

 “There is a particular Sorian squad we are after. Their success rate is impressive and not the least bit helpful to us. I want you to capture the entire squad and bring them back here to be interrogated. In order to capture them I will have my spies spread the information of your squadron’s whereabouts. They will try to capture you in the same way they have been so successful before. This information alone will be very valuable to us as not a single soldier has been able to report back how they’re making it happen. Are you capable?”

          “Yes father. It won’t be a problem.”

 “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Have your squadron ready to move at first light. You’ll head south. Here are the specifics.”   Emperor Valos held out a folded packet of document tied close with a cord and shut with the emperor’s seal.

 “I will begin making arrangements immediately.” With a half bow Moon took the papers and turned on his heel walking back the way they had come.

          They set over before the sun had completely risen over the horizon. They rode on Monos, shaggy large beasts, with similar characteristics to a horse but were known for being able to cover vast distances quickly and being able to carry large loads. They also brought with them, pulled by a team of two Monos, a large cage wagon.

          As Moon’s squadron came over a small hill rise two weeks later, they saw half a squad of Sorian’s out in the open and half in the tree line directly opposite of his company. They had located their target.

There were two men and a woman standing over a fallen Nurthian soldier in the middle of the small valley. Considering the sheer amount of blood, it looked as if they had just finished torturing the man for information. One of their brothers-in-arms.

  The first shot was fired before he gave the order to shoot.

 The unarmed young woman standing closest to the soldier with her hands covered in blood was the first killed. A fist sized hole punching straight through her chest. The young man closest to her began screaming as he raced towards to her side seemingly unaware of anything else. Flashes of color made quick work of the rest of the soldier in the valley.

As Moon watched the body of the second man in the center of the valley fall, he whirled on his squadron screaming for them to ceasefire. His blood boiled with rage at their actions; he would find out later exactly who it was that had taken upon themselves to start the barrage without an order.

Now half the unit they were meant to capture was in the wind free and the other half were dead. There was one man who had somehow been missed judging by the smoking crater next to him. The who had run to the woman had pulled her to his chest as he rocked back and forward gently as if it would undo her death.

As Moon watched a brilliant warm pink light engulfed the man and most of the valley. For a moment Moon felt a sense of peace and calm wash over him like a large weight had been remove from his shoulders. When the light faded the man was kneeling before the most beautiful cherry tree he had ever seen. A pure white trunk supported a canopy of every shade of pink imaginable. 

Tears flowed freely down the man’s face as he took in the rest of the carnage around him, and Moon found that he did not think him any less for it. His love had clearly just been killed as well as most of his closest friends. He was alone.

     The man turned to look back at the ridge staring straight at Moon.

 Moon found his feet moving almost of their own accord somehow knowing that the man wouldn’t shoot. As he stopped in front of him, he gently removed the weapon from his grasp and replaced it by chaining his wrists together. The man was clearly still in shock as he gave no resistance at all. Instead, he returned his gaze back to the tree looking lost.

  The Nurthian soldier died later that night due to too much blood loss. But he didn’t die before he confirmed Moon’s suspicions about what the Sorian squad had actually been trying to accomplish. Evidently, the woman that was first killed was a medic and had been trying to save his life.

   He would have liked to have met her. She reminded him of Yorick. They had died for the same reason. The pang of loss that was normally easily be ignored with various tasks dug into his brain as he tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Finally giving up Moon moved to the doorway of his tent and peered out at the cage wagon. The man whose name he still did not know was staring blankly off into the woods as he sat huddled in the corner of the wagon. This disturbed Moon greatly although he did not know why. It was something like seeing the man so lost wasn’t right. Although Moon had never met the man before it seemed just wrong.

          Thinking back Moon remembered the feeling the wash of pink light had caused and the tree it had left behind. The last time he had experienced anything similar was just a year ago when Yorick was killed. His and the Sorian soldier’s bodies had also transformed into large twin willow tree. Only the light had been slightly different then. It was a green color. He wondered at the fact of having seen the same event twice now when many went their whole lives without seeing it even once. Such magical things existed in the past as a regular occurrence long before the war ever started when there were still dragons living with the people. Even before The Disaster a lengthy period of history were in a rush for power and control over them all the resources had been stripped from Cardaria. No one knew whether it was the Nurthians or the Sorians who attacked the other first, but they hadn’t stopped since locked in a power struggle for survival. He wondered now though if his ancestors appreciated what they took for commonplace. He supposed not. If they had the war would have never gotten started in the first place. The Disaster should have never happened either. Some things were best left completely alone in the hands of a Higher Power where man couldn’t ruin it.

          The trip back to Cync was a somewhat stressful one. The prisoner caused no trouble although he now shared the cage with the man who had fired the first shot. Moon didn’t even know if the man realized what was happening. He hadn’t spoken a word since the slaughter. The Nurthian would receive a very public demotion and be sent to the frontline for his lack of discipline.

          Moon right now wished he had made the judgment even harsher. Firstly because of the sour taste the whole thing left in his mouth at the thought that the soldiers they had slaughtered hadn’t even been hostile and probably would have either negotiated their freedom or gone into imprisonment willingly when the alterative was death. Secondly because he still had not thought of a way to deliver such bad news to his father. Instead of bringing back a Sorian squad of twelve mostly healthy warriors he was delivering one broken man.

          Glancing at the devastated man as they traveled Moon knew that the interrogators would use whatever means necessary to extract information from him, but he wondered if they had any chance of being successful with a man who had nothing more to lose and would probably even welcome death if it meant a reunion with his lover in the next life.

          Moon decided that the truth and a full account of events would be the best he could give.