Prologue

Dead bodies were scattered in every inch of the field, to represent the slaughter that took place just days ago. The vast land was smeared in blood so rich that it gave life to the ground underneath. The air was thick with the smell of decay that has already begun to take place. The sun blazed down on your skin, provoking beads of sweat to appear on the bodies of the soldiers. They began their work immediately, not wanting to delay their task any further. They scattered to all corners of the vast terrain while slowly inspecting each and every body that lay limp on the hard ground. Clutching a photo of a young man in their hand, they worked in a chaotic manner under the blazing sun. Frustration began to rise within the soldiers, particularly in the face of one. He was a tall man, with a muscular build. He grasped the photo with the same tension that was sketched on his face. As the sun fell through the horizon, he worked further into the darkness, double checking every corpse in sight. By the state of the crumple image in his hand and the blood on his uniform, it was evident he had checked every body on this field. The tension on his face has grown, pumping his body with despair and anxiety.  The remaining soldiers showed defeat as they retreated back to their jeeps.

“Sir, this is all we can do for today. We shall return at the strike of dawn” One of the more youthful soldiers attempted to break through the tension running through the man’s veins. He took a while to compose his sentence into something that is perhaps more polite.

“This is perhaps all you can do. But I won’t rest until I find his body. We may have lost the battle, but we have won his life. I will not reset till I find his body.” His words were calm, but they did not hide the frustration underneath. He left towards the field once more, clutching a torch to lead his way.

“But Sir. Nicolas!” the young soldier’s voice trailed behind the man, but he neglected its presence and continued with his work.

Sir Nicolas was the chief of the Italian Army. His appearance isn’t worthy of a broad explanation, but he was always noted as a commendable chap. He wasn’t really the one you would approach for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, but he was well respected within the region and beyond. Blood stained him completely, and attracted several unwanted visitors during nightfall. The Swizz Alps was a humid place during the summer which meant this was a perfect blend for all the mosquitoes and flies to enjoy. He swatted them away with the photo in his hand, as he peered closer at every body with his torch light. He shone it directly at the body’s face, and then at the photo, and then back again. He did this several times before he was certain that this was not his victim. He pulls out his dagger and marks a long, evident cross on the body’s check before moving on to the next body. With every slice his frustration rose, making the gashes deeper and longer. The night slipped into day, but his work continued at the same speed. The remaining soldiers returned again and were in shock when they saw the chief making his way around the war field to the next body. With the same tension they left him with, he continued to check every body and eventually leave it with a red cross. Unaware of what to do, the soldiers stood at their jeeps, waiting for further instructions. Although the chief was now a mere speck in the distance, they could sense the defeat from the chief spreading towards them. The figure slowly began to approach them looking worn and defeated.

“Sir...? Did you find him?”

“He is not here. I have checked every body on this field and he is not here!” The defeat has reignited his flame of frustration. He dropped the photo and retreated to his jeep. He turned on the engine and sped off into the distance leaving the soldiers alone.

One of the soldiers bent down to pick up the dirty, crumpled photo. It was the face of a young warrior. He didn’t know too much about this young man, but he knew enough. Since the few days that have passed since the war, several stories were created about the heroes and the villains of the battle. Although these soldiers did not go into war themselves, they knew enough to identify that this man was the Prince of Switzerland, Carlo Salvatore, and also the chief of the Switzerland Army. He was killed during battle, and his body is to be retrieved to Lord Antonio Lombre. The rest remained a mystery to these soldiers, but they all looked out into the field in hope for an answer to one of the many questions in their heads.  

Reviews

[Poetic Beauty]

You have done a stunning job describing the surrounding making the reader feel as if the are standing with the soldiers on the field looking for this body. The colors pop in my mind as i read it and the tension is felt and described well. the mystery at the end leaves you wanting to read more.