"Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won."

 by Michael S. Webster

A breeze passed over the battlefield but failed to cool those it touched. Irving’s gaze fell upon the corpses lying across the road. Irving was grateful none of his companions were among the dead. He still sighed heavily.

Irving slowly limped over to a large rock and sat heavily down. His left arm relaxed and the shield dropped to the ground. Irving pulled off his helm and let it drop next to his shield.

Harvey hopped over to Irving and stood up and rested his paws on Irving’s leg.

Your duty is fulfilled, Irving, acknowledged Sir Vakymri.

Order has been upheld, Lady Aethia added.

Ahem, Sir Balthoura began. Yes, lad, you were very br…

Irving’s hand relaxed. The mace slipped from his fingers to fall into the dirt.

The voices ceased.

Pulling off his gauntlets, he absently stroked Harvey’s head.

Irving gazed off in the distance, looking at nothing.