After the fighting ended, doctors rushed back and forth. Some carrying stretchers, others guiding wounded soldiers limping at their side. It looked less like a treatment line and more like a funeral procession stretching across every street.
As the sun climbed higher, its light revealed the full ruin of the city gates. Citizens emerged from hiding and hurried to the walls, yet it wasn't the wreckage they came to see.
At first, it was only a few. A mother clung to her child as she stepped cautiously into the street. An old man followed, leaning heavily on a cane and calling softly to his grandson.
Fathers ran forward, scanning the lines of wounded and dead, praying for even a glimpse of their sons alive. Sisters collapsed into sobs when they recognized familiar armor drenched in red. Children ran barefoot through the dust, crying out names they could barely speak through trembling lips.
Some found what they were searching for.
A woman fell to her knees with a cry of joy as her brother limped toward her, smiling with open arms. Two young boys screamed as their father appeared from the haze, pulling them close with shaking hands. Tears streamed freely not just from grief, but from overwhelming relief.
But others....
A young girl knelt beside a cart, holding tightly to a bloodied helm. No man had the heart to take it from her. No one even dared.
An old man sat alone by the roadside and staring blankly at the ground, a soldier's sword resting across his lap. The same blade he had sharpened every week for a son who would never return.
A young boy screamed at the heavens, his voice breaking with anger and sorrow, calling a name that would never answer again.
And so the city wept...
Lucian stood in the center of it all, helpless but to watch. His heart felt heavy with sorrow and regret, each breath tighter than the last. He felt it too, not the sting of battle, but the weight of everything that came after.
Jay walked up beside him. Saturn, still bloodied from the fight, stood silently. There were no words to offer, none would have mattered.
Finally, after a long moment, the commander spoke. "Ensure every name is known," Lucian said quietly, "and that every family of the fallen is honored and compensated." He began to turn away before adding, "And make sure, no one who fought here tonight is ever forgotten."
jay and Saturn kneeled and nodded "Yes, my lord"
Lucian stepped into the crowd, passing tears and screams he could never silence or undo. He did not speak as he walked by, he didn't need to. The sight of him, worn and battered but still standing, was enough for the people to cling to. Not glory. Not celebration. Just a simple truth (This will be remembered).
A triumphant victory… but at what cost?