Farie was lost in the flow of battle everything came down to a single point a single moment. The opponent facing him. Sometime during the course of the fight the rest of his reinforcements arrived. They joined the fight, but Farie didn’t notice this until later. Not until the pounding in his veins stopped. Not until he stood panting watching the retreating horde. His eyes wide, his body covered in blood. He lowered his sword and barely heard the words spoken by Barth as he watched the Tutar retreat. He raised his hand to stop his men from following. There was no use in them going after the enemy into a trap. Better to secure the refugees and get them safely to camp.<br/><br/>A part of him felt empty. Lost. His heart was thundering in his chest and his eyes took in every detail of the world around them with an almost bleak dimmed view. The colors somehow seemed less bright, duller. Somehow more dim and removed from the world they belonged to. Farie felt dull and washed out himself. He always did after battle, like a part of him was also torn away with all the death that washed the earth in it’s crimson flow. He closed his eyes a moment to let the pain that was building inside of him settle to a dull ache.<br/><br/>He had sustained a few cuts, some scars would remain, but nothing threatening and certainly nothing he would mention until they returned to camp. Farie didn’t speak, he didn’t need to, he had worked with these men long enough. They knew what his orders would be. That was part of the key to being a good leader. To know what orders to give, to know when they were unnecessary. The man began to move around the field aiding those who could still be saved, doing what they could. They were a little too late. Farie looked and remembered. It would take a while, a long while, before these memories dulled in Farie’s mind. He looked over at Barth finally having had enough of the death and loss that could and should have been avoided.<br/><br/>He couldn’t of them as Linden or Lebi anymore. They were man, woman and children. Innocents who had fallen before the hatred and cruelty of beasts that threatened all humankind. Something that Farie could not condone. No matter the differences between countries. These were innocent people who should never ever ever have been here. They should be home with their loved ones. Now entire families were gone. Some would loose mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, daughters, sons and friends. He let that sink into his mind. He let their faces become a part of his memories. These people died, because no one was strong enough to protect them, because mistakes were made. This could have been avoided. In future it would be. He made that promise to himself, even if it was illogical to do so. Even though there really wasn’t any way for him to control anything. He still needed to remember this. He needed to grief for them, but most of all he need the raw edge of anger that rose up. He could not afford to be soft.<br/><br/>He walked slowly over to where Barth knelt with the child. He had been about to speak, but words could never be enough. Nothing could ease anyone’s heart in this situation. So he stood like a dark shadow behind the man, who’s birth origins had made their countries enemies, but who could have been a friend had they been born in the same kingdom. How odd that Farie thought of Barth not in terms of his origins as the young noble would have in the past, but as a battle-hardened warrior. Things were changing and this war was making those changes in Farie.<br/><br/>It was so easy to see just how quickly life could change in the blink of an eye. He waited a long moment before he finally broke the silence.<span style="color: #FF8080">”We need to get those who yet life back to the camp. There’s nothing more we can do here. I am truly sorry.”</span>What else could one say. There really were not enough words to describe the horror of this. Only weak attempts at words. He knew that nothing he said could ever ease this. Yet, he had to speak.