The Restfulness of Death

After the meal, Sadie cleaned her rifle, Tenever patched up his tactical vest and Astarlane ran a grindstone over her sword. Few words were spoken, each preferring to leave the others in a companionable silence.

Astarlane remembered the smiles and laughter of a different time. Good food, card games, happy faces. Stories told over the fire.

A week after they met the enemy, no trace remained once they met the endless filth and misery of war. One by one, even the people - taken by good deaths, painful deaths, senseless deaths.

They had been good people, she reflected. Full of life; she remembered them writing letters and recording messages as they marched out to fight a meaningless war. She had watched them, running her grindstone on the edge of her sword.

It hadn't made any difference as they bled out in the mud.

Better to travel light, she thought. No-one to miss you when you're gone.