A man knelt before a brackish moat and saw his life flutter way. The battle behind him had now been done for what was a full day. He could not move and his wounds would grieve he knew his time had come, in the reflection of the water black this is he once saw.

Memory of home, of friend, of family, and more all wishing for his safe return. It would be something he could not give them although their security he did earn. He did not believe in the gods of the church and wondered what lay for him next, he did his best and now he rest with the last few breaths he has.

A fae had seen him, had watched blood ooze and stain his uniform dark, the fae would play and bounce and stray but they eyes of the man did not part. They focused on the brackish water of the pond just in front.

He had no regrets and the fae was scared, such death had been new to her.

Without need or reason he reached into his pack and grabbed what food he had, he would not need a meal, maybe the fae would like it, they had.

It was a move without a deal. It was a move without a price. It had been made without recompense not wrong or right. The fae could not save as the flickered round his form, his wish a dish for the fae since he needed it no more.

Fae called upon the wind a warriors spirit guide and let the soldier find his way to the next land ridden high, taken from the brackish maw and the last upon the field. The fae wished well, the soldiers soul who had previous seen wars hell.

(I don’t know why it came to me, it did, enjoy)