They say after a while you become nose blind to certain smells. Living in an enclosed space with a bunch of death defying warriors would prove that case to be wrong. Instead, I think the smell of these gargantuan beasts have gotten worse over time, now I’m not that clean myself but I have no idea how these guys don’t notice this.
Our country of Lisvan is on a crusade against other nations for their “heresy”. They threw away our god in the name of another, Kifkan, one of which promised them a true afterlife filled with riches and wonder. Slowly the followers of Krofkis dwindled we slowly lost trade routes and treaties with other nations, we had to act; we had to start this false crusade.
“Get ready soldiers! We made it to your burial grounds!”
The battlefield is a long field full of blooming zinnia flowers that envelop it. The nice smell over comes the stench from earlier. Our Lisvanian soldiers line up according to formation, with our King in front and center. Across the flower ridden field is an army twice the size of ours, coming from a lot of other nations that make one whole, their colors are displayed to differentiate them. Our king raises his sword in the air, lets out a small sound and goes onto yell with his old rickety voice:
“For Krofkis!”
A loud boom-like sound is heard from our side as each soldier gets riled up for their king, but we all felt the fear in the air that every soldier that day exuded. The other side stayed silent, they contained their excitement for battle and seemed like robots with only one mission: to wipe us out.
The horns are sounded and the armies rush forward, crushing the zinnia flowers beneath them, the poor flowers didn’t stand a chance against both armies, and as soon as the sweet smell of the flowers came, it was soon gone and was replaced with the same smell of blood and rot. The clashing went on for ages, but our morale never lost its high. Our numbers dwindled, but they also.
“We die in glorious battle today! We will be legends!”
My commander yells next to me, the screaming never stopped the smell never gave up, it was intoxicating. I was riled up I was blood-thirsty “More blood for the blood god!” I was thinking. I did give blood for him, my own. A sharp pain in my right shoulder paralyzed me, followed by another in my stomach and finally one through the top of my head. My vision blurred and then darkened. When I awoke the pain was unbearable, I couldn’t move nor could I see. I had lost my vision. The battle was over with but It still waged on in my mind, I was scuttling around grabbing onto swords and cutting my hand until a I heard a familiar voice, my commander.
“We won…” he said.
“We took it to them, we won, but we are gone too…”
What does this mean? My brain fires in different directions before finally I blackout again. I awake to the voice of a nurse taking care of me. She talks about how the battle was over and that we had lost the king, but had stopped other countries from falling into Kifkans control. The Nurse then talks about how bad I smell, I smile because finally I had become nose-blind.