As Mith and Ludus had been alone in the tunnel, ice-fill path had never been so crowded. Every square inch was taken up by someone in a guard uniform, in a prison uniform, or in a mountain poncho which was now symbolically the uniform of those fighting from Lwid. The battle had spread from the town of Lwid, through the path, and into the clearing next to the Royal Region. The guards had their backs to the region boundary and tried hard not to be pushed through it. Most were Turff’s troops while some had come with Mitchum. Mitchum was right to think that some would abandon on their short journey. As they got closer the screams and shouts got louder, and Mitchum’s regiment grew smaller. The idea of fighting was really too much to bear when it came to it.
On all sides blood and sweat poured onto the rocky ground, though no one was dead. The idea of actually killing someone was unthinkable to most in the battle. A large amount of the actual fighting consisted of one-on-one sword fights that ended when one of the competitors fell over. Nevertheless there were some who grasped the idea of an all-out battle, those few swung their swords and aimed their rocks at anything that moved. Sometimes they even hit people on their own side.
The mountains themselves seemed to groan in agony over the battle going on between them. It disrupted nature itself. Mountain deer could be found running through the crowds hitting anything in their way with their giant antlers. Regardless of the inability to kill each other, few had a problem with taking out a deer. Several were found dead around the various parts of the battlefield.
General Quinn moved from left to right as his opponent twirled their mid-length sword in their hands. Sweat ran down every part of his body, especially his hands. He gripped his own sword, a long royal sword, but it continued to slip under his grasp. The large man in the yellow jumpsuit ran at Mitchum, sword aimed high. Mitchum blocked the hit. The man stumbled backward. The general threw his sword down and tackled the large man. The man hit his head on a stone and was immediately knocked out. Mitchum got to his feet, hoping he did not kill the man, and ran for the next fight. Turff saw the action and commended the general from far-off. The two officers exchanged a quick glance before continuing.
Mitchum saw something in Turff’s eyes that he had never seen, fear. As he ran to find someone else to fight he looked in the eyes of everyone he saw. They all were the same, fearful. A thought gripped him: Why were they fighting? How could it be that no one wanted to fight yet they all fought? Mitchum wondered how anything could be so important to die for. Several days before he probably would have said that the roses were worth dying for. But now in the thick of danger he could no longer see how. There was nothing inside of him anymore to keep him in the battle. He shot a quick glance at the sign telling the end of the Mountain Region. A large part of Mitchum wanted just to run at the boundary and never return. The desert had not been so bad; at least he was not afraid of dying there. A large rock hit the ground only feet from Mitchum. He started toward the border.
Bern lay nearby as Lapp tended to a giant gash in his arm caused by an enemy sword. They both watched helplessly as one of their commanding officers simply walked away from the battle. Lapp wanted to rush to him but could not find any reason to stop him. Though he tended to Bern, most injured were much worse off. Some would need limbs amputated while others would be lucky if they survived. Out of all the people fighting for the good of Parli, it was Mitchum who they saw as least likely to desert. But now it was clear that he was. He had gone to a jog as a sword landed nearby.
General Quinn was so close to the border when he finally stopped. Something deep inside kept him from leaving, regardless of how badly he wanted to. He imagined what the king would say after hearing that his newest general had fled shortly after arriving in battle. Mitchum could no longer do it. The thought of dishonoring his superiors kept him from leaving. He just had to find the will inside himself to turn around and continue. Then he found it. Mith and Ludus entered his mind. They were somewhere right now deep in a cave and needed him to be strong. The general turned around to see a short frizzy haired woman in yellow running to him with a sword over her head. Mitchum suddenly was brimming with emotion. As the woman got close Mitchum jumped in the air and kicked his opponent in the face. She fell to the ground and so did he. It had been years since that move was last in his arsenal, this time it resulted in several pulled muscles.