Old Friends

Damian moved through the lines of soldiers going about their day, doing whatever was necessary to survive in the camp and fight for another day. Their faces were much more strained and serious now compared to when he had first seen them. The newly enlisted ones had lost all feelings except exhaustion and coldness.

Did the soldiers he had spoken to that one night by the campfire survive? Or had they long since perished?

Tracking Valoris's mana signature, Damian slowly made his way toward him. Many soldiers recognized him, following his movements with tired eyes. Some gave him smiles, while others shot him angry or confused looks. Most, however, were either sleeping in their tents or performing some sort of menial task. Chattering and laughing was nearly nonexistent—people spoke only when necessary.

'Man, this place is depressing as hell,'