1367 Words
BASTIAN "Is there any news?" I ask August, who by now knows the daily routine by heart. “No, the last sighting was a couple of weeks ago, she has not been seen again after that, even the attacks stopped, three days ago it was the last one, and it did not seem so much as an attack but more like a scouting round, they didn't even try to fight when they ran into our lookouts, they just left and that's it,” he tells me, and I frown. "When was the last confrontation with the Red Army?" I ask him, and he seems to be trying to remember. "If I am not mistaken, I think it was a little over a week ago and it was quite short, there have been no serious clashes lately," he tells me. "That is strange, for almost a year there have been fights every week, even sometimes we have not finished recovering from one when they are already attacking again, this calm worries me, August, do you think she is planning something big?" I ask him, and he looks at me sympathetically. "I don't think so, maybe they are just as tired as we are, a war is not something to be taken lightly, it is likely that she simply would not have taken into account all the consequences and costs that a war like the one she's trying to fight leaves behind, after all, she doesn't have the necessary experience, they are probably just getting their strength back,” he tells me in a reassuring tone, but I still have this strange sensation in my chest, as if I feel that something bad is coming. “She may not have experience, but her uncle does, don't forget that he was one of the commanders of his father's army, and if the old mad king was known for something, that was for his senseless wars, her uncle must know exactly what he is doing, I am telling you, this silence is not normal, we have to prepare ourselves, I feel that something bad is going to happen,” I tell him, and he simply nods. "How is Iris doing?" I add after a brief silence, and he exhales wearily. "She is recovering well, although not as fast as you might expect, your girlfriend almost killed her," he says jokingly, and I scowl at him. "Don't joke about that," I scold him, and he throws up his hands in apology. "I am sorry, Elina almost killed her, the doctors say it is a miracle that she survived," he replies. “I still don't understand why Iris has such a hard time following orders when it comes to… her,” I tell him, unable to say her name as calmly as August does. "I told her many times not to try to confront her, but at this point, I think it is a matter of pride, even your mother is furious with her," August tells me, and I shake my head. "Well, her pride is going to end up causing her to be killed, you and I know that if Iris is still alive despite her serious injuries, it is because she wanted it that way, if she had wanted to kill Iris she would have done it easily, she spared her life, I don't know why, but she did, and that should serve as a lesson for Iris to follow the example of the rest of the warriors and run away when she sees her,” I tell August who seems worried all of a sudden. "At this rate, we will end up losing the war if every warrior who sees her flees immediately, Bastian, you know perfectly well that the only one who could be a true contender against her is you, you have to face her or this will never stop," he tells me, and I look out the window. "You know I can't," I tell him, and he sighs in defeat. "I know, but you have not even tried again, if you who are the king is not willing to face her, how do you expect your subjects to do so?" he tells me, and then leaves the office. I know August must be thinking about the only time I have seen her since she left, we had received reports of fights with the Rogues constantly for several days, so I decided to go with the warriors one day in the hope of meeting her and get her to talk to me, but when I finally did, when I got to see her, I couldn't do anything, I froze like a f*****g i***t and she left, I never saw her again after that, it's like she avoided showing up on a site if she knew I was there. I throw the glass that still contains a bit of drink with force, and it flies quickly until it crashes with the opposite wall and the pieces fly away in all directions, even a small fragment of glass cuts my hand, and I watch with frustration as it heals quickly, why if my body can heal so fast, my soul can't? Every time I think about her, and worse yet, every time I talk about her, it hurts like the first day, I thought that by now I would no longer feel the same gut-wrenching pain in my chest that I felt when she spoke those damn words, but I do, I still feel it every time her very existence comes to me, I feel it, although it is not as evident as before when I could not stop writhing from the pain, or crying, screaming, feeling like I was drowning, or when I broke everything that was within my reach, because now I carry all that chaos inside of me, it has become part of me as if I had had it all my life, I still feel the same pain, but now I have learned to cope with it to the point where many times I forget it is even there Until I think about her again and the whole cycle repeats again. And if she has made sure of something, it is to carry out her threat of not letting us be calm for a single moment, because it is now common to receive reports like the ones August just gave me almost daily, or at least several times a week, and my army is already exhausted, although we have not lost as many men as expected, the number of wounded after each confrontation sometimes exceeds the capacity of the hospital, but above all, this war has decimated the morale of my people, I see it in their faces, in the way the dynamics have changed in the packs of the kingdom, even in the way my subjects perceive me, and I know that August is right, I must find a way to confront her, I have to end this war at all costs, but I have no idea how to do it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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