Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Contest | Silvershield Warrior

I grew up knowing that I would be a doctor. My father was a doctor and so was his father. I came from a long line of doctors and our family was well respected in the community even if we were not noble born.

We were originally farmers but with the constant wars one of my forefathers volunteered and ended up becoming a surgeon's assistant.

He had a knack of mending broken bones and stitching wounds and so he was further trained in the capital. From that moment on there was always a doctor in a generation.

I was reading a medical textbook when I saw some of local boys passing the field. They were loud and boisterous, talking about girls they kissed and how far they went. Mostly bragging about made up conquest. Well boys will be boys.

They stopped before me and I knew they were going to make fun of me. They get a kick making my life hell and yet when they get injured they seem like sheep before my father.

I go home with an aching side, I knew several were cracked and I would have purple bruises for the next couple of days.

I hate this town. I can't wait to be sent to the capital and study.

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War never changes and people always find a reason to stick the pointy end of a spear to another person.

May it be because of gold, land, livestock but man always covet what his neighbor has.

A regiment of Silver Shield knights enter town and asked everyone to gather in the town square.

The commander announced that the kingdom was being besieged in two fronts. They need volunteers to fight in the war.

He was good in stirring up the nationalistic spirit of the people. Some of the older men who were caravan guards or mercenaries at one point volunteered.

The rowdy boys of course volunteered and was talking about the gold that they will earn and the glory that they will receive.

I didn't know what to do. I looked at my father and he smiled and said it's my choice what I want to do with my life.

I could stay here until I get sent to the capital to study medicine. I could also volunteer and hopefully be like my forefather and be a surgeon assistant.

It has come full circle and so I decided to go.

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Boot camp was hard and although I was to be assigned to war hospital I was still trained to hold a spear.

At first I scoffed at the idea because how hard would it be. Don't stick the sharp part on your body.

The training was hard. I felt calluses form in my hands. What once only held books was now holding the ash pole of a spear.

My arms felt heavy with all the drills and stances I needed to learn. Yet there was a certain beauty in getting the forms. I must admit it relaxes me when I go through the motions and sleep like a tired baby after.

Then before we knew it we marched for war.

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The war was spilling into the countryside and the frontline was a 3 day ride to my town.

We had to take a stand here and stop them or else our families would see the horrors of war.

I surveyed the hills and saw the enemy line up and I see the shiny points of the spears on our side. I was feeling confident that we would push them back because this was our land.

The battle was hard and several times our lines buckled but reinforcement was able to quickly fill the gap.

This was a war of attrition as neither forces back down. For each inch they took, they paid with their lives.

I was arms deep in blood and gore as I helped the surgeons administer to the wounded.

Here I was saving lives.

Then it happened. The enemies lines were broken. The head of the general taken by one of the magnificent Silver Shield knights.

The day was won!!

A time to celebrate winning this battle but soon we would know the bitterness of loss.

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Amidst the twilight sky we could see the fires burning. The signal towers lit, a village was attacked.

My fear was it would be my town but no we were 3 days ride from here so it was impossible.

I kept repeating it to myself as we were ordered to march. I repeated it while seeing a familiar road. Of hills that I saw from a distance. Stopping by a river that I knew flowed towards the town acting as one of the water ways goods were traded

I kept repeating it as I saw the black smokes and smell the burnt out farmhouses.

No survivors on these humble abodes.

I was still repeating it as I walked beneath the archway into town and surveyed the carnage inside.

Bodies burnt and chewed on. Heads on spikes. Blood on the streets.

The young and the old all killed without mercy.

I searched through the bodies and finally I see him. My father, all torn up. Holes made from spikes and bite marks filled his form as if he was a piece of meat.

I cradled his head, my tears washing away the soot. It was my father. I howled at the sky for what happened here.
How could we have won and yet lost so much. How could I save many lives and yet lose the one life that mattered most to me.

I was not alone in my cries and anguish as I hear some of my fellow townfolk lament their fate.

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We buried the dead and with one last scoop of earth I bid goodbye to my father. These hands failed to save you.

These hands will not save any more lives but would instead take.

My hands will never hold a scalpel again as it will only hold the spear.

I would be a warrior. A Silver shield warrior that would end his enemies no matter what.

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That is my entry for the Silvershield Warrior Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Story Contest! // Week 19// 10 Booster Pack Prize!

I hope that you ejoyed that tale.