Prologue
“It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, more desotion. War is hell.”
― William Tecumseh Sherman
Before they learned what war meant, they learned how to fear the drums. In the dark it was only the drums.
“boom boom boom”
They didn’t know what war was. But they knew the drums. And they knew to be afraid.
“boom boom boom
Before they could name the horrors of war, they learned its rhythm—slow, steady, and echoing from the deep. Only the drums.
“boom boom boom”
They crouched behind shattered stone and blood-wet steel, five left from twenty. They had no hope.
“boom boom boom”
Their st scout made it end a few days ago, he slit his throat to dull the sounds of the drums.
“boom boom boom”
None of them spoke, words had weight here
—- weight that echoed.
“......”
The drums stopped.
Not silence.
Stillness.
like the world was holding its breath.
Like they were listening.
And if they were.
Slitting their wrist would be mercy.
“Booom… booom…”
Closer
“booom… booom…”
It was here.
No one ever spoke of what they saw.
But deep beneath the stone...
The drums still beat.
“booom booom booom”
The bcksmith was striking his hammer
“You alright, Sergeant?”
“Yes… just thought i heard something”
The heart of the deep still beats, its sound still shaking the earth and taking many a soul, but today is not a day for drums, todays a day for life, for the harvest festival.
Chapter 1 The festival
The sun hung low on the fields, casting a long shadow over the wheat, the air smelled sweet with a pinch of dirt, the distant sounds of music flowing over the fields like water on the ocean, a small child no older than 12 was running through the fields, her golden hair reflecting the sun like a mirror.
"Catch her! Catch her!”
but her legs moved to fast to stop, even if she wanted to there was no chance they would get her now, she was weighed down by the rge amount of greens in her pockets and the melon she had strapped on her back, she flew like the wind, her feet always nding were they were supposed to nd… until
"grrrrr woof”
not the dogs, anything but the dogs she thought, now her feet were unsure, whether to take a left or spin right. She heard the dogs loud bark behind her as she ran, her breath grew heavier and senses duller,
“a dog anything but a dog, if jack was here he knew what to do”
The young girl came to the end of the field, the summer heat was getting to her, the sweat running down her brow and she was sure the dog could smell her, like Jack could smell out one of her lies.
She thought of surrendering. but no, the farmer could not beat her, not again. She threw the melon into the rge and curvy river ahead and jumped in, the water was refreshing and cool, she floated down sure that the water would wash away her sins and smells. She grabbed onto the melon and floated down the river towards the music, people were watching her, some even yelled at her
“Farmer ned didn't get you this time did he”
“not even close.” she yelled back grinning from ear to ear.
some even cheered for her, and the fishermen would ugh at her floating down the river, like nothing was funnier, and she would only smile, well until she saw her sister and that boy, she never did like that boy, his almost grown mustache, and the way he would call her “sister” even tho they aren't reted, she hid behind her melon, but it didn't stop her sister from seeing her
“Lyranna, is that you? get out of that river!”
She hated when they called her Lyranna. It's too formal she thought, she likes being called Lyra but Va would never let her have it. She hated her sister, not in a violent way but in a sister kind of way, she was partly jealous of hers sister’s long and curly hair, but she would never tell, or that her tall and beautiful sister never was wrong in her mothers eyes, but she couldn't let her sister know that, never.
“I'm gonna tell mom that you're stealing again!”
“go ahead then i'll tell her that you drank some wine st week”
“ you wouldn't!”
“ I would to!"
She continued floating down, hiding from people she knew and getting praised by people she didn't, she grabbed onto the side of the river and pulled herself out of the river with the melon under her arm. She got out of the river removing her clothes to dry them and wrapped herself in the scarf she was wearing, it was half wet but still not as wet as her other clothes, she id under the sun drying and eating her stolen goods, she dozed of for a while, until she awoke to the sound of a fiddle being pyed, she dressed herself and followed the sound.
Peeking through a bush she saw a man, he didn’t look like a traveler; he looked like he’d been everywhere. A tall man, but not by much, his broad shoulders were hunched slightly, as if his back had borne too many burdens over too many years. His hair was grey and untidy, streaked with the dust of a thousand roads.
The fabric of his cloak was frayed, but its deep purple hue spoke of a time when it had been well-crafted, maybe even regal. He didn’t carry a staff, he had a dagger at his side, worn but well kept, and a scroll case slung across his back, battered with use. She had been sure he was a wizard although her mother would tell her they didn't exist
“No Lyranna wizards don't exist it's only a tale dad tells you to keep some of that magic in the world”
But she knew her mother was lying, she could see it in her grin, whenever her mom would lie she would grin after, she knew wizards existed, she was one. Once when she was younger she had made a frog disappear only by blinking, she knew magic was real… it had to be.
The traveler started singing
“16 years old. when i went to the war to fight for nd fit for heroes. a sword in my hand and god by my side, chasing my days down to zero and we matched and we fought and we bled and we died. and I never did get any older but I knew at the time that a year in the line was a long enough life for a soldier.”
She was listening to the words he was singing, she thought about the soldier, and what he had been through, maybe the man was a soldier, or just a man who heard the song in a bar, she didn't know. At first she was disturbed by the song but as he sang she grew trapped by his voice, it was… haunting.
“Well we all volunteered and we wrote down our names and we added two years to our ages. We were eager for life and ahead of the game, ready for history pages. And we brawled and we fought and we whorled till we stood 10,000 shoulder to shoulder, with the thirst for the hun, we were food for the sun, and that's how it is for a soldier.”
She heard the pain in the man's voice, he wasn't just singing, he was telling a tale, a tale she had never heard, her father talked of trolls and wizards and her mother of princesses, but she'd never heard this story before it was… sad. Her defenses were down, she was enveloped by the song, her knees grew weak so she sat down.
“when i heard my friend cry as he fell to his knees coughing blood as he screamed for his mother, and i fell by his side and that's how we died. clinging like kids to each other. And I y in the mud and the guts and the blood, and I wept as his body grew colder, and I called for my mother but she never came, though it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to bme and the day not half over and 10,000 sin. now there's nobody even remembers our name. and that's how it is for a soldier.”
Lyra sat in the bush listening as the man let out a sigh, like he had a stone in his belly and singing had made it disappear. her eyes scratched and her throat started to close up because she felt his pain. She felt his voice inside her stomach and all the way up to her head, a single tear fell down her chin and all she could do was to hold it back with all she had, it felt like holding back a flood of emotions.
"Oh, dear... I didn’t mean to make ye feel that way" He stepped forward, slowly, like approaching a bird that might bolt. “I… I didnae mean to upset ye. It’s just a song.”
“I didn't like it” Lyra said as tears ran down her face, she didn't want to cry and she didn't understand why her body had betrayed her like this. the tears keep running unstoppable down her face making her almost dry scarf wet again.
"I'm sorry ss, it's just a song” an old one he muttered under his breath.
she was still crying, her face soaked in tears, all that she could think was how he made her cry, she didn't cry, she never did, not even when her pet dog Olly died. She was mad at the man for making her cry so she stormed off thru the trees towards the road and started walking back into town. Her sister saw her again on the road while kissing her boyfriend, she looked at her sister and scoffed.
“ What are you upset about u drama queen” she started to ugh, her boyfriend ughed as well, but he did everything Va said or did, he was like her own soldier, Lyra just ignored her sister and kept walking.
When Lyra got back into town it was te, the festival still going but the sun on its way down, the soft gaze of the sun shines over the grass and warmed her, the swaying of the wheats next to the road soothed her, she was finally starting to forget the song until she saw a soldier, he was in casual were but she knew a soldier anywhere, her father used to drink with soldiers, he said “soldiers are better drinkers, since they have more to forget” the man was just browsing the goods at the festival but she couldn't stop thinking about the song.
The band pying the sweet music now switched songs and the drums were pying loudly, she felt the vibrations all the way from the road, she saw the soldier dancing and being happy until the drums started, then he stopped dancing and started drinking again, but this time he started to down pint after pint, she looked at him and wondered what was disturbing him.
She felt the troubles of the day coming to an end when she saw her vilge in glee, she heard the music and smelled the food, she smelled the roasted chicken, she smelled the buttery corn, she smelled all the smells she loved and hated, like the burning coal or the boiling soups.
she started to walk towards her home with the golden sun watching her, she felt the hot sun on her back, maybe too hot… She turned around and there
A tall figure stood in the road; he was broad, armored, silent. In his fist, a torch big enough to burn a house… or a girl.
She froze. Through the slits of his facepte, two hazel-brown eyes watched her, unblinking, inhuman.
Then he moved. No time to run. No breath to scream. His hand closed around her like iron. She kicked, scratched, howled Like a wolf. Like a bear. Useless. The music died. The sun fled. Only smoke and silence remained.He yanked her backwards through dust and splinters as fmes swallowed the vilge behind her. Screams rose of children, mothers, steel and fire, and were eaten by the roar of burning roofs. She reached for the dirt, the air, anything. Nothing answered.Just those eyes in the helmet, steady and cold.And the torch.And the end of everything she knew.
She did everything she could but to no avail, the metal man punched her back, she fell to the ground hard, he probably broke every bone in her stomach, she cried, cwed and spit blood. The man grabbed her foot, dragging her further away until he stopped. Suddenly she was on his shoulder but had he removed his armor for she felt no iron under her, she still cried and screamed. her vision faded and she could fight no longer afterall she was only 11.
