The field differed from the grassland in two respects.
Nearly the entire crescent was covered in loose-quarried stones. Wild grass
grew between the rocks. There was also a white limestone obelisk in the middle
of the field. Anvar ushered his horse toward the marker with his nephews in
tow. The monument grew ever taller as they approached. It was a masterful piece
of work with reliefs depicting battles chiseled into the east, south and west
sides of the stone. The north side bore an inscription written in the common
tongue.
Anvar stopped before the north side and dismounted. His eyes
filled with tears as he turned and observed the landscape. The trees at the
back of the field had finally come into view. After turning entirely around,
Anvar fell to one knee and hung his head in prayer.
Linvin and the twins were dumbfounded. They took to the
ground and joined their uncle. At last they could read the inscription.
You stand upon a field of mutual defeat.
In the last great battle for this land, the armies
Of the Mandrean Empire and the Kingdom of Sartan
Spent nearly every soul in their command in a single day.
The ruin of that day is buried in the soil beneath your
feet.
Respect the fallen and plant no seed in this land,
For it is stained for all time by the blood of those who
would claim
Lordship over its fields.
Only the dead may dwell in this place. Those who disturb
them
Shall share in their fate.
May all men remember that the living may control the
lands for a time,
But the dead forever hold the soil.
In a world of greed, brave men paid for this soil with
their lives.
Leave them to their prize…in peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment