I was there…

This is a possible beginning to a new version of a story idea. I am trying to play with the idea of being a memory, in some form, and told through this medium through the book. (Going to read Dracula soon for some epistolary inspiration)

—//—

Every soldier on that hill thought, this is our day. There was the sun making all the metal shine on the top of the hill. The shields leaning on peoples’ legs, waiting to be raised into a shield wall. Swords sharpened each morning and evening on the march down south to greet them.

The first human battle in a generation. It was time to see who had learnt from the last time. They, many of the leaders I could name on sight, marched nearer. I remember chuckling at the idea of hoe they will slowly getting tired before a sword was even swung. Everyone knew the next few hours would be tough. But if the gods bothered to look down, they might help swing the result our way. If we won, we would drink till dawn. If we lost, they would try to survive till dawn. Hoping to hide back home and not be recognised for being on the hill.

Looking back, I don’t think I could have ever predicted where I would be a year later. I still have nightmares of how close we got in being found out, or worse, found out and exposed.

I like to remember the feeling I had when I chuckled on that morning. All the future potential. The only worry I had was how I would do my best to survive and live to tell my grandchild about the day I faced the King beyond the water, and the Utwelda wanted me by his side.

Author: listerwrites

A former History Teacher exploring the idea of writing in his spare time. View all posts by listerwrites