Days Of Change

[Master Inika]

Days of Change

The merciless, open battlefield. Soldiers of their nations traded blows and fired weapons. Earth was scorched, flames consumed once-fertile land, and lives were lost in the name of their country.

To the side, one boy stood: the drummer boy. His weapons were a pair of wooden sticks, and his armor was a drum held to his stomach by a belt. Instead of a chilling war cry, he emitted beautiful, melodic sounds.

Then, enemy soldiers surrounded the drummer boy. A dozen weapons were aimed at him. However, he could not hold up a shield, only drum faster. He could not shout for help, only drum louder. He could not even turn and run away, only drum bolder.

Then, Gailin awoke, hyperventilating. He calmed himself, by some means. He looked to the side of his barrack, and saw his drum set was still there. His orange eyes darted around the room, uncertain. The next day, he went to battle, for the first time. His dream was just that, a dream, but it rang true as to what the drummer boy essentially was: a target.

The door opened, and a tall form walked in. Gailin closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping.

“Drummer boy?” a voice said. It was undoubtedly the voice of General Sharley, top military leader for Gailin’s army. Gailin opened one eye and peered his head over his cot. Sharley was a tall, lean figure. He was in sleepwear at the moment, but still had a sash of bullets over his shoulder.

“I know you’re awake, Gailin. I was, too, before my first battle,” Sharley said.

Gailin sat up, and Sharley sat next to him.

“You were nervous your first battle?”

“Of course!” Sharley chuckled. “It’s pressuring. It’s like the entire country is watching on you, counting on you. Of course, I am the general, and you are the drummer boy, but all is the same.”

Gailin nodded. His society was dictated by a strict caste system. If you were a drummer boy, it meant you had been born a drummer boy. Sharley was one of the few lucky ones, to have been born a general.

“I take it you can’t sleep well,” Sharley said.

“Who can, knowing we go to battle tomorrow?” the drummer cried.

“Like I said, I know how you feel.” Sharley stood up and headed for the door. “Have a nice night,” he said.

----

It wasn’t nearly as bad as his dream.

True, the constant bloodshed and gunfire was maddening, but none directed to him. Gailin had already seen a dozen warriors of each side fall.

Their enemies were truly fearsome. They were beings seemingly made of pure shadow, shrouded in thick cloaks, and moving impossibly fast.

“You there! Keep pushing forward! Don’t pull back! We show these creeps a real fight, today!” Sharley barked. Unlike Gailin and the others, dressed in traditional blue armor, Sharley had been gifted with special yellow-gold armor, stronger and brighter. He had been working the hardest, giving orders and fending shadow warriors at the same time.

The immense work Sharley had been performing proved to have taken its toll. Sharley turned away and lowered his sword, his arm tired. That move was fatal, for a shadow warrior sped by with a sharp katana and slashed the general’s chest. Sharley fell to the ground, blood dripping out.

A group of soldiers ran to their general to aid him. Sharley glanced at Gailin and, though struggling, gestured for the drummer boy to join. Gailin put his drum sticks in their holder and ran to him.

“I will not live to this battle’s end,” Sharley declared. “I will go peacefully, but not as long as I know I set my army up for failure.”

The troops were uneasy. Due to the caste system, the accepted course of action in the event of the general’s death was for them to retreat and attack again as soon as possible with the next general-born citizen.

“In my absence, I name Gailin, the drummer boy, my successor,” Sharley said.

“But that betrays the caste system!” a soldier cried.

“Screw the caste system!” Sharley roared. “Would you rather lose this battle, and bring disgrace and defeat to our country?”

After a brief moment of awkward silence, Sharley said, “I thought so.” Turning to Gailin, he concluded, “Drummer boy, may you lead us to victory.”

Blood stopped flowing from Sharley, and he closed his eyes. As he left, a smile appeared on his face.

After a moment of silence in Sharley’s honor, the troops all looked at Gailin, who looked at his shoes.

“So, what do we do, uh, General Gailin?” a soldier asked.

Gailin cleared his throat, for no reason other than to stall his necessity of speech. “Well, guys- I mean men- here’s the plan…”

Edited October 15, 2011 by Master Inika

[Noxryn]

And I've locked this due to starter request.