Life and Death

Frost clung to the air, it’s icy bite mixing with the scent of freshly lit gunpowder and a hint of iron creating a pungent aroma. Tops of trees were decorated with white crystals sparkling in the sun’s light, undisturbed by the chaos that had erupted just before the sun had begun to rise.

Beneath the canopy of branches and leaves the trees wept over their fresh wounds, balls of iron had ripped the protective rough shell exposing the pale flesh beneath, sticky clear blood trickling out. As a strong breeze sailed carried tiny shards of ice they released their cries for all who were willing to listen.

Strewn about by the roots, crimson stained the white surface, men from two sides laid pained expressions frozen onto their features, some cradling wounds, others clawing at the hard ground reaching for their weapon.

The silence of the battlefield was shattered by the sounds of boots crushing snow, slow delicate steps. Moving between the trees a girl clothed in elegant fabrics glancing over every fallen man, pausing only for mere moments waiting for any signs of life.

The wind blew her long white skirt, her arms merely covered by a white sheer lace tugging the fur-trimmed capelet closer. Though she felt no cold, she clutched the soft fabric willing it to bring her some sense of comfort.

“Why?” Although the voice that left her pale lips was quieter than the sound of a pin dropping the one meant to hear still heard.

“Why what?” A gravelly voice replied its source coming from among the tree branches.

The girl would pull down her hood, silver strands spilled out, reaching to her lower back as she tilted her head up, eyes glaring accusingly at the blackbird who found it's resting place on a branch just above her.

“Why have you brought me here? Why is /this/ something you wished for me to see?” Her words were as cold as the world around her, an open hand gesturing to a dead man.

“It is not what I wish for you to /see/ that I brought you here, but for you to understand.”

“Speaking in riddles does not help me, Crow!” The bird seeming unphased by her discontentment. ruffling up its feathers before taking flight again.

With an aggravated sigh the girl followed in the same direction the other had gone, treading carefully to avoid the mess of battle. A few grumbled words left her as she watched her guide, only looking away to see those who had fallen.

What is it that they had fought for? Land? Wealth? Food? What had been so worth murdering one another over? Whatever it was it didn’t matter, how could one enjoy those things if they were dead?

Again and again, she had seen such things and although it was meant to be sad or scary she felt nothing of the sort. In place of those, she had only felt wonder.

Glancing at where her companion had been moments ago she stopped when she saw nothing, quickly searching, stopping on a man who was propped up against a tree. Now given the condition of things around her this wasn’t all that odd, but what had been, were the sudden bursts of visible air leaving his mouth.

This man was alive, but by the liquid staining his chest she could tell he was teetering on the edge. He was young, still in the prime of his life, thick brown locks matted to his forehead, dark eyes seeming to watch her every movement.

With cautious steps the maiden made her way to the trembling man, crouching down in front of him, his whole body giving a violent shake as she drew near. Frightened eyes met soft gentle ones, his soul seeming to open up to her like a book.

This man was in his twenties, he was a good man, giving to those in need, loving to his child and his wife that was heavy with a baby on the way. He worked hard and honest, but despite being a farmer he still could not provide enough for his growing family, especially during these harsh months. That is why he was here, he had been promised enough money to get them through winter upon their victory. His life had yet to begin and fate had so much more in store for him.

Gingerly her fingertips would brush the hair from his face before sliding down, his eyelids following. There was another puff of air that left him before finally, his body would relax. Finally, he no longer would have to fight.

“You decided to take his life?” Just behind her, the same rough tone came from the bird, his words questioning but not surprised.

“Yes, I did.” Her reply came out instantly, her head looking over her shoulder at the winged creature.

“I didn’t see a need for him to suffer more. If he had lived he would have gone through life with a permanent ache in his chest. The war would have haunted him, and in the next few years, he’d lose his ability to work as well as he once had. A part of him would die each night fearing that eventually his family would starve and guilt would eat away at him. Here, he died knowing he fought hard and the last memories of those he loved were them in good health and happy..”

The bird seemed to think over her words for a moment, his beady eyes watching her rise to her feet, smoothing out her skirt and adjusting her corset.

“Do you understand now? What exactly you are, my dear? You are a perfect product of life and death. A being with eyes who see the beauty in both, life as a new beginning, a new being who can provide new things, a knowledge that has not yet been discovered, new excitements. Death as peace, mercy, the closing of one’s story to move others to their next chapter.”