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My first war

Summary:

“I don't think she's breathing anymore, General…”

The child's hand falls from his sharp shoulder.
Lips press together into a thin line and pale fingers lightly clutch the dark hair.

 

“I know.”

Notes:

ENG TWT VERSION

 

was written under the influence of the historical album-musical “Ти [Романтика]” and the movie «Slovo» House: Unfinished Novel

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Brother! Brother, why... why me?”

 

The young god's hurried, confused footsteps echo off the high walls and the older man stops. He turns, meeting the worried face opposite, and beneath the sharp black mask, confused eyes glisten. 

 

“I... I am the weakest of you all. How, how can I do this? Osiris, I-I can't. I'll fail you all, I'll-”

 

A wide, muscular hand slowly lowers on a sharp, pale shoulder. 

 

“Who else but you, Seth? The war should never go on from father to son, I'm sure you realize that. Otherwise... what will happen to them? Who will protect them?”

 

Fingers slightly squeeze the sharp shoulders and a glance of red eyes follows the older man's black eyes... meeting the two female silhouettes. The sisters talk worriedly in a corner of the corridor, in the shadows. Nephthys, dear Nephthys, clutches her hands to her chest and her slender shoulders shake. Always confident Isis seems unable to find the right words.

 

His pale fingers clutch the black hilt of the khopesh, which grows heavier in his hand. 

 

“I... understand.”

 

“I knew you would. You have to do your best, Seth. You've spent enough time in the desert, you'll lead an army better than any of us.” 

 

Have I been carefree for too long?

 

“I remember how worried you were about being the only one not doing enough. This is your chance, Seth.”

 

There's always a choice.

 

“Your King believes in you, Seth.”

 

A broad palm pulls away and pushes him toward the platform, beyond which the clinking of iron and armor is deafening, muffling the once splash of water and the singing of birds.

Fingernails dig into the black metal. 

 

There is always a choice, but not for everyone.

 

The sun reflects off the iron, blinding sensitive eyes as if a thousand bright rays had descended straight to the earth. 

Today is a beautiful sunny day.



//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////



Bodies, bodies fell to the ground, being torn off like leaves.

The screams muffled the deafening clang of iron, broken swords, and broken bones. Feet were scorched by the hot sand, leaving blisters on sensitive skin. 

 

Soldier has orders. Tears would come later.

 

The sand was turning red. 

Red. Red. Red.

Red everywhere.

Why does the desert become like a bloody sea? Why does the earth suddenly mix with the sky? It seems as if the sun itself is drowning in blood and it becomes hard not to get lost.

 

A suffocating iron odor clogs the lungs, leaving a vile taste in the mouth as blood pours into the stomach. It's hard to breathe, his insides almost twist outward and his eyes go dark a few times. His chest hurts and it feels like his insides are bleeding and burning at the same time. It hurts.

 

I want to return home so bad. 

 

Suddenly it's quiet. Deafeningly quiet. The air is cut by quiet, painful, hopeless cries and wails. 

The air reeks of cinders. Ashes. Death.  

 

Hands clench of their own and press the small, tired body to his chest. Pale fingers slide through dirty stiff hair. The child's hands rest on the sharp shoulders. 

 

“Shh... We'll take you back to Giza. You will be taken care of... surely you will.” The voice is unusually hoarse from endless hours of screaming. 

 

“General.”

 

“You'll be near your mother again. You'll be all right. It'll be all right.”

 

“I don't think she's breathing anymore, General…” 

 

The child's hand falls from his sharp shoulder. 

Lips press together into a thin line and pale fingers lightly clutch the dark hair. 

 

“I know.”

 

Seth doesn't turn around. His hand lightly squeezes the tattered burnt cloth on the child's frail body. 

 

“Gather the wounded. Check the wounds and prepare for sleep... As the sun rises, we move out.” 

 

“Yes, General.”

 

The quiet men's footsteps grow farther away as the voices grow quieter. 

 

Seth does not move. Before him are sand dunes covered in blood and human bodies, piles of black ash that people once called “home”. Once so beautiful, so free, his desert was now like a burnt earth with nothing left but death. It was as if even the sun had now turned away from this view, hiding behind the horizon and leaving a darkened sky and earth. It seems as if everything has become black and white and bloody at the same time. Eyes are lost.

 

Pale knees buckle and trembling hands gently lower the child's body to the sand. A few drops fall onto the swarthy skin. 

 

A convulsive sob cuts the silence. 

 

Black clouds appear in the sky. 

 

The sob repeats. And then another and another. The male figure leans forward. 

 

“Mother... I failed to protect these children. I failed...these children.” 

 

Pale fingers clutch the black mask. 

 

“Why did the gods send only me?! Why did you all turn your backs, mother?! How can you just watch?!” A tired cry cuts through the silence. It remains unanswered. 

 

The black mask falls to the sand. Dried drops of blood remain on the sharp edges, frozen as if together with time. 

 

“Mother. I'm so weak. What if I fail once? What if everything stops? What if everything falls apart? What if it all disappears? How can I... how can I protect all of us?”

 

Behind closed eyelids, the face of a young soldier that watched with tremble, nervousness. Fear. Faith. Courage. The kind of courage that made a young person pick up a sword and go defend their home, because courage is when you have something more important over fear. More important over death. 

 

Bitter tears flowed down his pale cheeks, almost through force, almost with resistance. 

 

“How could the gods let this happen? How could the gods create something so cruel...? Did the gods just close their eyes?”

 

The voice grows quieter and quieter. The young god opens his eyelids lifting his gaze to the dark sky. A drop falls on his cheek. Another. His hair becomes damp and clings to his neck. 

 

Maat is blind — her eyes have been gouged out.

The one who will get to the end will be left on his own.

 

The sky is crying and the smell of ashes becomes heavier. The wet sand swallows the bodies, pulling them lower and lower, hiding them from sight. Hundreds of dead hearts, hundreds of dead faces. 

 

Dead don't care anymore. 

 

Bloody water runs down his arms. 

 

Today was a beautiful sunny day...

 

Seth lowers his gaze, looking at his hands, which show the calluses of weapons under a layer of blood. The child's body in front of him is slowly being dragged down by the sand. 

 

Blood, blood, blood. A sunny day. Rain. 

 

Suddenly everything brightens and faint silhouettes appear before his eyes. They look familiar. 

 

Silhouettes of children? Two teenagers? One lying on the ground and the other kneeling and looking at his hands. 

 

Blood. Blood. Blood.

 

Blood covers his feet up to his ankles and the man looks around in panic, trying to get closer to the boys. 

 

Faces. Why can't I see faces? 

I know them. Why, why can't I remember?

 

The lying boy suddenly turns his head, raises his eyebrows. His eyes are not visible. No, not at all. Why? 

 

“Seth?” 

 

The man flinches, suddenly sinking exhaustedly to his knees, dirtying the shendyt. His heart pounded as if it would break through his chest, cracking his ribs and popping out. 

 

“I-I didn't want to-I didn't... I-”

 

The boy rises, suddenly appearing beside him. Small fingers touch the man's damp cheeks. Gently wiping his eyes.

 

Am I crying? Why am I crying? 

Why do I feel that guilt again?

 

The man sobs even harder, feeling as if he's going to suffocate. As if the air were gone as if his lungs had burned, drained of blood. And he gasps, and for some reason, he falls closer to the child's arms, as if trying to find comfort. 

 

The boy hugs his head. Strokes his hair. 

 

“I know... You shouldn't be here, Seth. You can't be here yet. You better not see what you see in your dreams.”

 

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Why? I'm in so much pain, I can't, please don't leave me, I-”

 

Blue eyes look with regret. Dark hands gently stroke the pale cheeks and the boy leaves a light kiss on his cheek.

 

“Where there's no hunger and gardens instead of trenches. Where it's a sunny day, where friends are alive, we will meet again somewhere in your head.”

 

Forget it. It's not the time.

 

A light kiss on the forehead.

Suddenly the pain disappears. 

 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

The clatter of hooves echoes off the stone tiles. The soldiers have already gone to their barracks. 

Seth squints a little from the sun, looking around the palace. The air smells of flowers. Flowers.

 

A bright sunny day.

 

The silence is distantly interrupted by a quiet, soothing melody. 

Seth feels... empty. 

 

The man dismounts from his horse and drops his weapon directly to the ground as a blonde woman runs towards him, her hair beautifully glistening in the sun. She laughs and smiles brightly, throwing herself around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

 

That familiar...feeling. 

 

“Seth! Ha-ha-ha! We've been waiting for you for so long, you did so well! Thank you, thank you!”

 

The man lowers his gaze, gently hugging back. His heart calms down a bit. 

 

“How... how was it? Are you okay?” The young woman pulls away and looks at him worriedly, expectantly. Almost naively.

 

You'll be alone.

 

A floral scent clogs his lungs.

It's how it's supposed to remain.

 

“It's no big deal. I'm all right.” He forces himself to smile, taking the pale hand in his own. “Need to go greet Osiris and Isis…”

 

The young woman smiles and nods back, hurriedly leading him into the palace and telling him something actively.

 

Red eyes catch a glimpse of the sky. So blue.

 

In the darkness

I whisper one thing

Take me away

save the rest

Notes:

this piece probably feels rough and like an emotional roller coaster
for me war feels like this
like a continuous pain that either dulls or is in the background
today russians destroyed a printing house in Kharkiv
killed people
again
shot people in Vovchansk
again