"Red Wings, advance!"
Who couldíve known that such words would murder my conscience
to the point where I would question my own morality? Could I
have ever thought that the scene that followed those quick words
would lead to the bloodshed that would change my life?
We landed our airships just outside of the town; it was late
at night, they never couldíve seen us coming. I quickly rushed
my troops into the village of mist. The events that followed
were grueling and down-right awful. Anyone who got in our way
was slaughtered, by order of the King. Men, women, children,
they were all killed, massacred before my eyes. But, as a Dark
Night of Baron, I was supposed to create these scenes and do
them without question; I was to be a mindless killer perhaps.
Our goal was a structure they used for prayer, it also contained
the crystal we had come for. There was no need for the violence;
this was a peaceful town, an innocent town.
I remember the first move. I sliced a manís gut with Shadow,
my dark blade. I simply stared at him as blood ran out from
the wound. His intestines began to fall out as well. It was
a grueling sight. The old man grasped his stomach and fell to
his knees. He grabbed my legs and was begging for the others
in the village to be spared. It was the worst thing to look
around and see violent spectacles occur all over the city, and
this man didnít realize it. I didnít want him to realize it.
So I lopped off his head.
My team and I, the Red Wings, moved further into the town.
We had caught them by surprise and already slain many of the
townsmen. We were inching ever closer to the prayer house, when
a group of mages appeared before us. They were intent on keeping
us from our goal.
Three of my men ran towards the black mages, and to my surprise
the mages slaughtered them. The mages had all combined their
magical energies and set my men ablaze. I donít think I have
to say that I was furious. My actions spoke much louder than
my words could ever have.
The five or so mages that were before me didnít even see me
coming. How could they? I was too fast. I believe I lost control
at that moment and was berserk. I slaughtered those mages in
the most horrific manner. Slicing a leg off here, decapitating
a mage there. It was so horrific.
As I stood in front of the door to the prayer house, the fresh
blood dripped from my dark armor. It was suiting, I deserved
to be tormented by the blood I was covered in.
"I want Biggs and Wedge to go back and slaughter any villagers
that wish to go against our righteous King of Baron!!" They
were puzzled by my violent request, but carried it out anyway.
"The rest of you, knock down those doors!"
My men began bashing at the large wooden doors with a battering
ram. It took seconds for the old doors to crumble, revealing
a large white room full of mages and priests. My men appeared
to be confused as to whether or not to attack these people.
The villagers in the prayer house were terrified; you could
just see the awful terror in their eyes.
The Red Wings charged on the villagers, painting the white
room red. While my men were still hacking away at those who
remained, I began to approach the crystal room with a few of
my men. Inside there were a few mages, priests, and the elder
of the town. My men killed the priests as I attacked the mages.
How gory of a massacre was this to become? Could this macabre
scene become any worse?
I stabbed my sword through one of the magesí face and watched
the blood and bits of brain splash on the crystal floor. A mage
jumped on my back, crying for the death of his friend. I would
send him to meet his fallen companion. I threw him off of my
back and cut him in two before he hit the ground. The last mage
ran away to the elder, whom I approached.
"We... surrender... take the crystal... you... murderers. Take
the damn thing..." the elder said.
He began to sob as I walked up the stairs and grabbed the crystal.
"Take your grubby hands off of that thing you bastard!!"
A priest lunged at me and I simply turned around and punched
him in the face. It probably broke every bone in his head, maybe
even killed him. But it was a reflex by now, it didnít matter
anymore, it was all for His Majesty.
With the crystal in hand I boarded my ship, but not before
having many of the townís houses burned. We took to the air,
and could still hear the screaming and crying of the villagers.
I simply thought about the dry blood all over my armor, and
how much of a mad man it made me look.
I never wanted to encounter that scene again, I had to change
But, I canít defy the King...
Dante Dali Mussolini.