One Whose Name Is Sertor

[Gaius ~ Sertorius Cagan 62]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msEL3bubimk

 

"Yoo' mawst' gaw', yoo' mawst' witness what is bein' dawn' in this 'Urth, even if it means being cast inter' thar' bloodspurt' awf' thar' Spawn of Horun'. Gaw' naw', meet wit' yer' leader O Sophist, let yer' eyes widen at thar' mistakes of yoo'r own, yoo'r heart be applied thar' pain awf' our sins. Bring them back tew' thar' realm awf' Dreems' when yoo'r eyes close after a day awf' fightin', thawt' is... if yoo' cawld' bring yoo'rself tew' sooth yoo'r mind long enough to sleep"

 

The amassed congregation of Knights, soldiers, even lowly peasants had gathered at the bridge leading into Malinor and it was there, slowly marching with Tyrus of the White Roses; that he could begin to hear the shouts and cries of the Elfs. It truly fit the term nicely, for verily it seemed as if Humans had spawned forth from the ground, the Spawn of Horen; as they marched across the bridge. The lamenting of the Elfs were soon drowned out by the din of clashing iron greaves as they shuffled against the bodies they were linked to and the boots pounded on the paths like war-drums, arrows had begun being let loose on the colliding mass that seemed to shape into a battering ram. Sertorius in his own battle attire strove to keep up, he tried to look up and over the shoulders of many men running; only to have an arrow strike him square in the shoulder-bone and had him reeling in a tight circle before being led to the water by the commotion of soldiers jostling past him.

 

Upon lifting himself up and over the fallen wooden beams, he stared through a wooden gate left slightly ajar at the sight of Elfen bodies laid strewn in disorder; curtled blood and entrails lay thrown about and trashed the streets within the inner-portion of Malinor under a Great Tree. He supped his gasp as Thomas Chivay and other soldiers marched once again on the street, stepping disrespectfully onto the dead bodies and peered out towards Sertorius with a satisfactory smirk; embodying the obvious fact that Oren had felled Malinor. Sertorius, scrambling to hide what may have seemed to be dismay began to rattle his falx along the wooden gate and hearkened loudly concerning the victory; letting the troops pass in amusement.

 

Dusk seemed to have fell at that moment, as the dust became more apparent and settled in as an eerie fog that masked the figures far and looting as Sertorius escaped from the wooden gate and stumbled onto bodies over a thick tree root that rimmed the earth past the housing district. The smell seemed to have consumed him as it choked Sertorius and he fell over and smacked his cheek onto the carved cheek of an Elfish body; the blood leaving an imprint that was colored by the tear that trickled down his own cheek. His surroundings seemed to pull inward as the carnage became more and more torturous, Sertorius ran with a full jog down the path towards the main gate; seeking escape.

 

 

The flashback of Pertinax Horen, after having been caught trying to stealthily bound across the rapids that ran around the base of the plateau that the Sophist Enclave stood; confessing to his uneasiness of having to participate in battle shook Sertorius as he wiped the few tears of shock from his face. Having not slain an Elf, yet he was so disturbed would have erred anyone as how could a man with hands clean be so bereft in grief at another's deed? The sight of the young man's face burned as much as tearful shock singed his face as he ran down the path, only to see a Mali'ker. The Mali'ker had caught sight of Sertorius first, Elphaba had frozen into place at the sight of an armored man nearing her. Whilst trying to render himself sensible to talk, he merely motioned with his hands that he was of no harm; yet it was of no use. The Mali'ker and Sertorius had separated as quick as they had ran into each other.