THE FALLEN SHEPHERD

Victor Thorne felt a cold breeze wash over him, carrying with it the stench of blood. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see dark clouds drifting ominously with the wind. His body felt wet and cold, the freezing sensation seeping deep into his bones.

Victor Thorne lay still, then slowly sat up.

His eyes fell upon his black military

uniform, the garb of a state commander,

now stained and heavy by blood. Shock gripped

him as he took in the scene before him.

The ground was a sea of blood, shallow

yet vast, barely covering the tops of his

boots. Dead bodies lay scattered in the

crimson sea, an endless expanse of

lifeless forms. Thorne realized with a jolt

that he had been sitting on a bed of

corpses-comrades, enemies, civilians, all

intermingled in death. Among the fresh

bodies, the country's flag waved in the

wind, a tattered symbol of a shattered

past.

In the distance, Victor Thorne saw soldiers celebrating their victory after the brutal civil war. The sight weighed heavily on him. His eyes then fell upon a familiar face among the bodies-a beautiful golden-haired girl lying lifeless. Nearby, another young man's face, equally still, came into view. Recognizing the bodies of his many fallen comrades and friends. Some died fighting for country and some died fighting for rebellions. Victor closed his eyes, burdened by deep regret.

Sitting down, he gazed at his reflection in the blood-red water. The cold breeze washed over him, creating small ripples in the crimson sea.

After witnessing the grim scene, Thorne realized where he was. " Seems like It's finally over," he murmured, his voice heavy with melancholy. He removed his commander's hat, unveiling his long black hair, drenched in blood.

" How do you feel now , sir?" a voice called from Thorne's left. He turned slowly to see another soldier in the same uniform, wearing a hat. The soldier had a perfect physique, stood a little taller than Thorne, and spoke with a hardened voice befitting a soldier. Thorne recognized him instantly from his silhouette back view —it was his former comrade, friend and the Vice captain of the commanders team, who had later gone rogue.

"You… Are you alright?" Thorne asked, concerned.

Ignoring the question, his friend replied, "You're supposed to be celebrating, Captain. You might get another promotion out of this."

Thorne raised an eyebrow, his tone rising. "What the hell are you talking about? This isn't even the right time to think about those things. "

His friend responded calmly, "Oh, is that so? is it because of our dead comrades, Captain? So you do care about them after all don't you? Just so you know, they all looked up to you and now they're dead because of our mistakes."

Thorne replied aggressively, his voice edged with frustration. "What are you getting at? I always did cared about them, you know that But they all aren't our comrades anymore . Some of them abandoned their positions and joined the rebellion. You know that well and They knew perfectly well the consequences too, and they got killed by another squad during the battle . You think we had a choice here? Huh?"

His friend kept looking forward . He then replied, "You think they also had a choice, Captain? They were supposed to fight against their own family and their homeland, but they couldn't bring themselves to do it."

Victor calmed himself, his expression softening slightly. " Tsk! I know...That's why I warned them several times. I even offered my help to them and their families to move somewhere safe. But they just couldn't listen."

His friend replied again, his voice laced with regret. "But you had a choice, Captain. Before the beginning of the war, you had the voice and power to change things. They were expecting you to work miracles because they trusted you, even we were ready to do it, we just wanted your permission, But in the end you couldn't bring yourself to do it, because You were afraid that the king and the elites might hate you for standing against them. You were afraid that you might lose the authority and respect they gave you for a long time. You were obsessed with it, Captain. Before you could notice, the power had already corrupted you."

The vice-captain's words struck him like arrows, piercing through the defenses of his mind.

Victor clenched his fists in anger and regret.

" That's enough! You're crossing your limits and forgetting your position here ," he accused. "Are you trying to blame me for their choices and consequences ? What is it you want? You want me to quit, or... do you think you could have done better than me, Is it that you want a better position than me? Is it...?"

After hearing Victor's words, the vice-captain threw his hat away into the blood, revealing his long, straight black hair.

"Victor," he called , his voice softer than before.

Thorne was taken aback to hear his name spoken like that from his vice captain .

"I don't care about my position or status anymore," the vice-captain said calmly. "I'm equally guilty as you, Victor, for letting our friends die and that's why I think I'm no longer suited for this job. But I've always looked up to you, Victor. You were the shepherd who led us all through these years. We've come so far as a team...family... and now we've lost half of them for a senseless reason, something we could have avoided. As a shepherd, you watched them die. You were supposed to protect us and yet you have failed.

Atlast You have simply become a fallen shepherd! Victor. "

Thorne's eyes widened at the harsh truth of his words. He didn't reply. Instead, he silently continued to look down. They stayed there in silence, leaving the sound of cold breeze .

The weight of his friend's accusation sank deep into Victor Thorne's heart, stirring a storm of emotions within him.

Thorne broke the silence with a softened voice. "What is it that you want me to do? Stand against the king? Against justice? Is that what you're implying?"

"Justice?" his friend asked with a tone of sneer, and he continued. " you did what you were supposed to do. You did everything right. In the end you kept the justice and yet why do you feel pain and guilt, Victor? You know perfectly well why because like all human things, this self-made justice is as flawed as we are. Our belief in justice is a reflection of ourselves—imperfect and vain."

Thorne interjected, " So striving for justice has also become meaningless?"

" Maybe ," his friend continued. " Maybe It is in the striving that we find our Justice and the pain might be a reminder that our work is never done, and the guilt, a guide to better paths."

Thorne absorbed his friend's words, but he couldn't agree on.

Thorne asked, his voice tinged with confusion, "I can't understand you. No.... it's more like I don't want to."

His friend replied, " You did understand Victor and I know the question's going to sound stupid. But I'm asking you, Victor, will you lead us ? To dethrone the corrupted ones, Victor, and I'll follow you till the end. I promise."

Victor started chuckling softly. "It is indeed a stupid question, and you know my answer too."

"Thought so," his friend said quietly. He lit a cigar, facing forward, and began to walk towards the endless crimson sea.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Thorne called after him.

"I've already quit, and I'm free to go wherever I need to," his friend replied calmly.

"Oi, don't do anything stupid," Thorne urged. "Do you seriously believe you can straight up go and do it? Can't you see? You're just alone after all ."

His friend stopped walking and but still didn't faced Thorne.

"No one can stay alone forever, Victor," he said solemnly. "I will find the ones who are supposed to meet me, like I met you on that day. Looking back I wish I hadn't met you. You made a new path in my life, Victor. You opened my eyes, and now I can't unsee the truth anymore. "

He threw the cigar away and resumed his walk, not looking back even once.

" Wait! What is it that you really want? What is it that you've always been looking for from the beginning?" Victor shouted as his friend moved further away.

His friend replied in a raised tone, " Me...For me, I just want to play that game, Victor. In that game, I want to bet my life, my beliefs, my values, my morality, the truth, and all on that game. And I shall keep playing it again and again against anybody and everybody until I meet someone who will be weighed better than me and i hope i won't find that day. "

His friend's voice faded away as he disappeared into the distance. As he vanished, the rain began to pour heavily. Victor was once again surprised to see that the raindrops were blood instead of water. The heavy rain felt like small stones falling on him.

Thorne tried to chase after his friend, but before he could even get up, the hands of his friends and comrades corpses began to grasp at him. Victor couldn't surpass their strength. Helplessly, he watched his friend disappear into the blood mist.

Victor yelled in agony and then woke up from his nightmare. He found himself sitting on the bed in the room, drenched in sweat. Steele and Marcus were sitting on chairs nearby, watching him closely. Marcus looked amused to see Victor, the same man who hadn't broken a sweat yesterday while confronting Steele, now visibly sweating.

"What happened, Mr. Thorne? Are you okay?" Marcus questioned.

Steele silently observed, sipping his coffee.

"It's just some bad memories," Thorne replied casually, standing and moving to the window. The warm wind rushed towards him as he opened it. He was amazed to see the city in daylight—it was nothing like it had been at night. It looked like a whole other city.

To be continued.