The Front

Sato

When Sato finally rose from his long night of unrest, everything was packed up and everyone was ready to set out. They all mounted their komodon and set off. Sato managed to sleep some on the back of his 'don. The party rode another several hours uneventfully before they spotted smoke on the horizon.

"I do not expect us to emerge near the front, but this is a battlefield; be prepared for anything," Leo called back to the boys. Leo was clad in the full set of silvery plate armour with white script Sato had seen. A lion-shaped armlet with a long white ploom completed the suit as Leo sat atop Shiro's back. Wyrm was drawn in his hand. It was so thin that the high sun's gleam obscured it from view. He looked the part of a brave knight. He was ready for battle, whatever he said. 

"Sier Armold, Sier Erest, you are their sworn swords and protectors. Never lose sight of them. Sier Armold, I entrust you as Sato's Shield," Prince Leo ordered.

"Aye, my Prince!"  The two knights chanted in unison their confirmation. The two knights steered their komodon to either side of Sato and Daniel's. A few guards guarded their flank, and many knights were spread in front of Leo and Bruno ahead of them. No doubt Captain Whitley led the column, though he was already out of sight. 

Sato spotted the village through the smoke and dust that formed the fog of war. Most of the cottages with thatched roofs were asmolder. The flaming fields of colourless grain were filled with scarecrows. Only they weren't scarecrows. They were people. They were villagers fleeing the battle. Leo and the mounted column were charging directly into the field filled with living scarecrows. The foot followed. 

Sato tried to call out to Leo, but he could hardly hear himself over the noise. The sounds were sickening. Screaming, crying, begging. Sato could smell it, hear it, and even taste it. Death filled the air.

A smaller contingent of the party, including Daniel, held back. Daniel dismounted his komodon and entered a large, heavily-guarded red pavilion. No doubt where the commanders were strategizing. His role was simply to observe their work and aid in it as needed. 

Sato broke off from the column and rode on past the tent. He had a very different role. He immediately dismounted upon spying a wounded female farmer. Sier Armold was his shadow. His massive halberd face held aloft. The woman was speaking gibberish. She was in shock. Her stomach was pierced in three places, most likely by a pitchfork. Piercing was harder to heal than slashes. It felt more permanent damage. She had lost a lot of blood. 

Sato couldn't move right in his armour. He was retrained. He hastily removed the plate, leaving only the comparatively lighter leather and mail beneath. He could feel Sier Armold scowling, but the knight said nothing. He was on guard. 

Sato got to work. He used all the tools at his disposal. He treated the wound before sealing it shut. He delicately spun his blade a full rotation in each entry wound. The woman howled from the pain, but she was stable. There was so much more he wanted to do, but he heard and saw others in more desperate need. Triage. He went to the next wounded villager and got right to work. He did the same for half a dozen more villagers. Treating their life-threatening wounds, stabilizing them, and moving on to the next. At a certain point, he stopped thinking as he did it. It became automatic. He couldn't remember how long he had been here. Everything was a blur. Eventually, everyone in the village was stable. Except those he had lost, those who were beyond help, and those he had been unable to help in time. Each face stuck with him. There were four villagers he hadn't saved. Four lies he failed. Four families forever incomplete. He couldn't fixate on that now. There were still many more to save. 

Sato made his way towards the fields. Sier Armold summoned a pair of passing pikemen to accompany them. They nudged acknowledgment and fell in behind the pair. They looked tired and dirty. They had not ridden with the party. They had been in this battle before they even arrived. Their eyes told tale of what they had seen. 

Sato spotted a villager and got to work. This villager was different from the others. He looked as if they had been flayed. He had seen some gruesome wounds, but this was the worst by far. He had no skin, no nose, no external ears, no eyelids, no lips. He looked like a zombie from a movie. 

"That's one of them. The enemy. The Undien." Sier Armold's voice was rife with disgust. It didn't matter. Sato had begun to render aid, and he could not stop now. That's what Gran taught him. 

 "I have to assist him now. Gran told me to help people." Sato spat as he feverishly worked to stop the bleeding. 

"That old bat doesn't know what she's talking about. This is war. We don't save the enemy. Stop that." Sier Armold had dismounted. He grabbed Sato by the shoulder. Sato wrenched his arm free and continued to work."

"To HeIII with you. Listen to that Wicked woman. I hope an Undien opens you up like this one here." The knight wandered off to look for something to kill. The younger pikeman followed. The older remained, a silent sentinel. He spotted an attacker and left to chase him off, away from Sato. Sato was grateful. He would not have been able to save the man if he had been attacked. 

Sato now knew one thing for certain. These Undien were most certainly alive. They bled like us, spoke like us, ate like us. Yet another lie. They were beginning to stack up. This mole hill might soon make a mountain. It made Sato question what he could trust. He trusted Leo and Bruno, but few besides. There was likely more Sier Armolds, Earls, and Dukes than them. 

"Their biology is identical. But the lack of skin, and in some places, muscle, makes the subjects much more vulnerable, especially to infection and disease." Sato looked up to face the unfamiliar muffled voice. He had thought he was alone. A tall man in all black stood over him. What appeared to be a gas mask was obscuring his face, and a wide-rimmed black hat was atop his head. Sato would swear he could see some kind of green behind the glass eyes of the mask. He was holding a briefcase in his gloved hands. His skin was entirely covered, head to toe, in black and dark brown. The masked man went down to one knee and set the case down, opening it, revealing some sort of medical kit. "Step back and observe. I will let you know when I need that cauterizing scalpel you got there." His voice was even, quiet, and deep. He was somehow scarier than the skinless patient.

"Okay," Sato managed to get out. This man was clearly some sort of doctor. He knew what he was doing. Certainly moreso than Sato. He observed closely. 

"The pike is lodged pretty deep in the chest cavity. Looks like it just missed the lungs and the heart. I'm going to remove it and clean the wound. I need you ready to seal it. This man does not have a lot of blood left to lose. Understood?"

"Got it," Sato stood at the ready. It would be incredibly difficult to coat a hole all the way through the chest quickly. He would need to use both his sword and his medical training. If he missed this up, the man would undoubtedly bleed out internally. If he didn't focus, he would slice his heart or lung. Sato took a deep breath. He quieted the world. He quieted his mind. He was ready. 

"Now," the masked man rapidly removed the shaft and started riffling through his case looking for something to treat the wound. Sato thrust his blade deep into the wound. His blade came out the other side of the man. He spun the blade slowly but deliberately, two full rotations. This was the hardest part. He delicately removed the blade at a straight angle. The wound filled with golden fluid. The man coughed a bit of blood, but more did not follow. He might just make it. The masked man dabbed the blood from the man's mouth. "Nice work, kid. Follow me. We are far from done." They worked together on several skinless scarecrows with great success before tragedy struck. 

The masked man turned his mask towards Sato and paused his work. Their current patient had already succumbed. "Listen to me very carefully. These boys, it doesn't matter who they fight for. They are someone's son, father, cousin, friend, brother, or even enemy. These are people, all of them, no matter what they look like, no matter what colour they raise. You got that? Our job is to save as many as we can. We do not discriminate. That is not our job. That knight of yours wishes only to see more death, but that will not bring back those he has lost. Nothing will. All we can do is prevent him and others like him from losing another. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I... I understand." Sato felt exactly the same way. The masked man was right. 

"I wanted you to swear right now an oath that you will never not help those that you can because of who they are. Promise this, not to me, but to yourself. Otherwise, you will lose yourself." 

"I swear it. I swear to help all those I can, no matter who or what they are. This I swear." Sato did not have to think twice. He knew he had to do this. For himself as much as any other.

"Good. Let us get back to work. The night is still young, and Death is still hungry yet."

The two of them worked into the black of night, treating anyone they found Undien or Æurean. Farmer or soldier. The time passed in an instant. For every person they saved, they lost two, and another five were gone before they reached them. This was grisly work. But it was essential work. 

Eventually, Leo and Bruno emerged with a fraction of their original column of mounted and foot. Their blades were tipped in and dipped blood. They had won the battle. It didn't feel like it to Sato. He had lost so many. 

Sato and the doctor treated Leo's men. Bruno had a bad gash. Leo was untouched. Sato worked so long and hard that he didn't remember leaving. He only regained awareness as he passed through the courtyard gates. 

Rebe was waiting in the courtyard. He heard cheers and singing from the town below. Sato couldn't think. He could hardly see. All he could do was cry. 

Rebe helped him down from his mount and embraced him tightly, and helped guide him up to his tower. She helped him strip off his armour to his underclothes and tucked him in tightly. When she went to leave, Sato rasped, "Please don't leave me." 

Rebe lay net to him, on top of the sheets, and took his hand in hers. She held him. He cried all night. Sleep again evaded him as it forever embraced so many he tried to help. So many he hadn't been able to help. 

Rebe fell asleep, but she never left him. 

When Sato ran out of tears, he finally found rest. 

Sato slept for a day, and she never left him, not for more than a minute. 

Sato knew only one thing. He did not like war.