Another short little piece playing with a character, this time a side character and a rather unpleasant and morbid situation.
They were too late, too slow, had been too confident. Alan approached the site of the tiny massacre slowly, knuckles white on the grip of his bow. They'd thought killing the men on guard would be enough. It should have been enough.
Trying to ignore the shouts of "Death above all!" that still echoed in his memory, he knelt beside a particularly small body.
The boy couldn't have been more than three. His mouth hung open in an eternal scream, his chest nearly consumed by the gaping sword wound that had cut short his life.
Fingers shaking, Alan leaned down and closed the child's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "This never should have happened."
He straightened, looking around.
Erik walked around the bodies toward him. "We have to join the others. They may need our help."
As these dead had needed it. One deep breath, and Alan nodded and stood. He gave the dead boy one last look, turned, and followed Erik. This was why he fought. So that his wife and unborn child would be spared this fate: murder by fanatics who only honored death.
So...yeah. Morbid and dark, and not really edited much beyond the initial writing. Any thoughts?