By the time we got to the wall it was already covered in screams of war. Personally I wanted a better look at the situation, and a knowledge of how they siege castles. Of course we went there to raise the morale of the men. Of course, at this point there was something crucial that I missed.

From the tops of the wall flew down a large scruffy figure, panting and flicking his head from side to side. The Zocrian soldier's eyes locked onto us, and charged in while drunk on adrenaline. Why do you suppose he charged at two kids? Because Eric had drawn his short-sword, and we clearly looked like nobles.

Perhaps the soldier decided to take the unarmed one first, or perhaps he just took the one that was closest, but he went right at me... now... I haven't really told you this yet, but I am not good at dodging and I cannot parry right now.

I slide into a fully defensive stance and with a deep breath prepare for the strike. Unsurprisingly it comes from above. You guys really should use more strike variations. As it comes down I step in closer to him and with a light hit to his hand, change the direction of the blade in one direction, while I let my back foot slide the other way, twisting me out of the direction of the sword. Having used up my luck for now I reconsider visiting the frontlines for a while.

The soldier screams out as Eric slashes the man's side. It isn't lethal since Eric is no stronger than a usual kid, and he didn't hit anything vital... but he took the man's attention in an instant. I was too hard to catch to be worth the damage.

I gasp the man's sword arm and let my eyes meet Eric's... but his eyes are watering, and he's heaving. He's locked up in his mind. "Eric! Move!" I scream at him with all of the air I can muster, before feeling the man move. He's surprisingly strong despite my restriction, as he lifts his sword at Eric... but with his sword raised he finally seems to realize that I'm not able to dodge right now.

He swings his sword, and in that moment Eric moves, forcing his sword into the soldier's throat to avoid the chain mail... and blood splatters out over us violently, spray painting the area the soldier was facing.

The man slumps down on the ground, and I let him fall as I let my eyes lock onto Eric. His skin is pale as death, and it looks glossy with cold sweat. He's quivering life a leaf... he's worse off than Asher the baker son was... in multiple ways. Asher idolized me, so my words gave his mind ease... Eric didn't idolize me the same way.

I glance up to the front line, relieved that this hadn't happened up there, or Eric's fear would have affected them.

"He... has a handkerchief around his wrist... like me..."

Tears rolled down Eric's cheeks as he fell back, terrified with what he had just done.

I looked down to the enemy soldier. The man's once smoothed back bangs had been thrown out of order, and his rugged face was stiff with fear... and tears lingered in the corners of his eyes from his last thoughts. Likely of the lady who had given him the ribbon.

"Yes. Judging by his age it may be his wife or a very young daughter. He probably has a letter or another token of affection in his chest pocket."

I watched Eric quietly. This was Eric's first kill, and he was overlapping himself with this man. He had realized that the man was not an enemy, but a human.

The culture of the clan in Rei's life, and this culture was different. Rei's clan was made and bred for the art of war. As such the way for dealing with the horror Eric felt was not one that would work on him. A pat on the shoulder and 'I remember my first one too!' Just wouldn't do here... Eric wasn't prepared for the reality he was facing. Father likely hadn't talked with him about it either.

Eric trembled and kept staring fixedly on the dead man.

"But why would he attack us?!" Ah, this direction. Well, Eric was a future lord, so it would be good to work this through with him.

"Because war is sweet who has not tasted it... and some lords never do, but that will not stop them from using money to make other people do it."

I gave him the political answer instead of focusing on the man. Seeing as the man looked well equipped and a courage big enough to get up the wall in one piece... either a career soldier, militia or former guard. He might have been planning on taking us hostage once he'd gotten us injured to the point we couldn't flee. The man had likely been ordered with the usual 'You do or you are fired' order. He likely didn't have a choice.

"Then! Can't we tell them not to!" His mind came with a foolish question.

"Diplomacy can prevent some wars, but far from all. Furthermore diplomacy can cause wars as well. Insults, grudges, bad manners, a bad glance, many things can spark a war, and some of them may truly be trivial. Others are over money, resources and the good of a territory's people. You cannot erase war, Eric."

I cruelly cut down his paths of escape, and he seems frightened at my words... no... perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he is terrified of how coldly I tell him these words.

At this point I may as well continue.

"This is war, Eric. There are no monsters, only people. People that have others waiting for them to return. No matter who dies, someone will be sad, and others may seek vengeance."

I watch him closely.

"I only know of two ways to defeat the fear you feel right now. Either you act like a naive fool and ignore what is in front of you and deem them just 'enemy'. You close your eyes to what you do not want to see... or you face it, accept it and continue for the sake of someone else."

"For a civilian it would be for their family in the castle."

"For a soldier it would be his comrades in arms."

"For a commander it is for his men,"

"And for a Lord, it is for his people."

"And you have no choice but to face it, for you are the current Lord of Castle Celeste. The men will look to you for courage and determination, and you have been born and bred to guide them, and die for the land and for the king."

Eric's eyes overflow with tears while he stares at me. I see that part of him understands, but there is too much logic for him right now. It's something he needs to chew over for a long time.

"How... can you be so cold?"

He finally expresses his horror for me with a quivering voice. I spend a moment to consider the question.

"I've long since gone numb to killing."

"You don't dream of them? You don't see your hands stained with blood?!"

His voice raises a few octaves.

"No. I dream not of those I have killed... only those I have lost. I am selfish, I care only for those that are mine." Be that friends, companions, allies or civilians.

"Then why! Why can you gaze towards the wall with such an expression!? Like you're looking forward to it?! How can you look like you love the battlefield?! How can you enjoy seeing them die?!"

He screamed a preposterous accusation at me, but I held back my desire to hit him.

"I do not enjoy watching them die. War is a horrible thing that should be prevented with diplomacy if possible... but... you are right. I love the battlefield."

I gaze up at the wall with a distant gaze.

"People are the most beautiful when they dedicate themselves to something... People on the battlefield shine so brightly as they give their everything, risk everything for what they have dedicate themselves to. Is there anything more beautiful than giving your all for something, whether it is to protect, or to make something blossom? The battlefield is the warrior's romance." I grasp a soft breath at the feeling of the many battles I have been through. It sends shivers down my spine.

I look to my pallid brother.

"I never wish for war to happen, Eric. However, to the eyes that look without fear, there is beauty to be found among the horror."

He doesn't understand. I can see that. However, it seems as though he has stopped shaking.

I look down to the dead soldier by my feet and kneel down.

"He has done well. His fire was beautiful, though his story became a tragedy. However, if I pity him, or worry for those he leaves behind, someone of ours will fall in his stead. As long as someone must fall, let it not be those I protect. Such is the way I think."

Eric still cries softly, but his color is slowly returning.

"As a Lord there will be times where you must choose to kill someone though you could have chosen not to. Not because you are forced, but to make sure that no one underestimates you. If we let the army outside our castle retreat, they'd think we would let them do it again... and faster than before they would be ready to do the same again, but next time they'd probably just burn the city. That is your reality."

My words are cruel, and likely too big for Eric to understand. No, perhaps he understands, but there is just too much information for him to grasp all of it.

He goes quiet, but after a while he nods.

"I... can't go," he words softly. I understand. He understands that he is too much of a mess to appear at the front line right now and is telling me he cannot go.

"Return to a safe place. I'll continue."

I grasp the soldier's sword and weigh it in my hand. It feels off... but it'll do.

Eric stumbles to his feet and goes to the soldier as well, but just unbinds the handkerchief on the soldier's wrist and squeezes it tightly in his hand. A hint of determination glows in his eyes, deep beneath the murky and teary surface.

War is filled with losses, and excuses. Our minds will come with excuses for why the stones on the wall are all slippery with blood... that the enemy are monsters different from us... that it is okay to kill them... that we are doing the right thing.

The only difference between a bandit and a warrior, is that the latter adheres to a code of honor. I do not mean the pathetic replicates some bandits make, but a proper one. I have killed far more than a hundred people... I'm numb to the regret Eric feels. I can only use logic, for I've forgotten.

I am only pained by the loss of those by my side, or those I have a duty to protect. My daily nightmares are never of the people I have killed... but the people I have been too weak to save. The only dreams that haunt me are those... the ones where they die in my arms... but those moments, no matter how they tear at me... are beautiful, even in the painful sorrow. Though I wake to scream at night I always calm shortly while I remember that they stand alongside me as ancestors...

That is war... a war full of losses... and pain... for us, and for those left behind.

The soldier in front of me lays lifelessly on the ground, and the tear in his eye finally rolls down his cheek. In the end, none who buries him will know his name. Such is war for the non-nobles.

Asher appears at my side with a cautious look.

"Celeste-sama. I will be by your side," he declares calmly. At this point I can't tell whether he is saying it to gain permission, stating it, or I have a dark look on my face prompting his worry.