After the West Wall

[Travisty 1020]

Spoiler

 

I had tons of fun with the siege; it was a great opportunity for some character growth 😊

𓆩༺✧༻𓆪

 

 

⟡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  ༓☽⟡༻✦༺⟡☾༓  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⟡

 

 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“AS CONSTANT AS THE STARS, AS STEADFAST AS THE SWORD”

I WILL REMAIN. THROUGH FEAR, THROUGH FAILURE, THROUGH FIRE AND FALLING WALLS—I WILL REMAIN

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　　✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 

They called for a retreat. 

 

Of course, there was no choice but to do so with the walls breached by the hellish army, the WEST WALL having fallen after all they endured trying to hold it. It was a strategic fallback, one that was necessary by all means. Dietrich knew this but still, when he looked over his shoulder as they pulled away from VALLAGNE all he could feel was failure. He hadn’t died. No one in his company had, as far as he knew. Many were wounded, bruised, but they were alive. Two of the creatures had fallen under his sword. That should have meant something. It should have felt like a victory, albeit a small one. 

 

But to him, it wasn’t enough. 

 

What good is two dead puppets if the city still fell?

 

He hadn’t told anyone how his legs shook after it was over. He hadn’t uttered a word regarding how he felt, not one. He never spoke of how he gripped his sword so tightly his knuckles went numb. How, for a moment, when the wall cracked and the ground quaked and the sky turned black with ash, he almost let himself believe it was the end.
 

Even after the siege, Dietrich had forgotten what silence sounded like. Real silence, not the lull between sword clashes, not the strained pauses in shouted orders, but true, peaceful quiet. For hours, it felt, he had been at his mother’s side helping with the cannons, scrubbing the barrel clean after each thunderous blast, wiping away residue and grit so the next round could roar just as fiercely. To him, the smell of smoke still filled the air, and he could still feel the ringing in his ears from the cannons even when he covered them

 

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the crimson forms clawing their way up the wall, blank-eyed horrors emerging from the smoke and rubble, no matter how many rounds were fired, no matter how many explosives were tossed down the wall, no matter how many javelins were thrown. He could still hear his mother calling out in the back of his mind and recall how he didn’t hesitate. How he dropped the cannon worm to reach for his aurum blade strapped to his side and drew it with a steady hand.

༻──────✧✦✧──────༺

SIXTEEN

 

That’s all he was, a boy by most accounts. A squire with stars in his eyes and too many dreams in his chest. A boy whose aspiration was to become the best knight there was. A name to be remembered.

 

After all was said and done, he returned to what was left of Vallagne. He sat on the hillside just before the main bridge. Above, the stars flickered, faint through the haze. The very stars he would name for fun while staying up late on the highest level of his keep. He would draw out his own constellations, note which ones marked the ends of which seasons, how if you followed one you could always find your way home.  He had always been the one pulling tricks, teasing his eldest sister until she rolled her eyes and laughed. Turning everything into a game. Mischief came easily to him. Not to bother, but to uplift. To scatter the heaviness that always seemed to hang over their world. He liked to make people laugh. If they were smiling, even just a little, then things couldn’t be all that bad. 

 

That is what made him DIETRICH.

 

He could still be that, maybe. Loud, reckless, full of bad jokes and half baked plans. Still making them laugh. Still be the one who kept the mood light when things felt bleak. Someone, at least, had to be that person. But tonight, there was no joke to tell. Just the sharp bitter knowing that everything was different now. Sitting with a view of what was left, he felt like he had aged. 

 

Tonight, he let himself feel the weight of the wall falling, of the city lost, of the future now pressing harder on his shoulders than any armor ever could.

 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

 

                           He glanced up at the stars again, quiet for a long time.

                         They were still there. Dim, yet steady.

                                                                              And so was he.

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A KNIGHT: 

Someone who stands between others and danger, A promise.

A PROMISE TO:  

STAND WHERE NO ONE ELSE CAN.

TO BE THE LAST TO RUN AND THE FIRST TO BLEED.

TO HOLD THE SHIELD EVEN WHEN YOUR ARMS SHAKE, EVEN WHEN NO ONE SEES YOU DO IT.

TO SERVE, NOT FOR PRAISE, NOT FOR LEGACY, BUT BECAUSE IT IS JUST.

 

To hold the line, not alone, but with purpose. To be the last to run. The first to stand. The one who holds the line when everything else is falling apart. The shield that stays up, even after the wall behind it is already gone. That is the kind of knight I will be.

 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘