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Ashryver of his sword.
The word spread from campfire to
campfire, rippling through the ranks.
The soldier was new to the Bane, had been
accepted into their ranks only this summer.
An honor, even with war upon them. An
honor, though the soldier’s family had wept to
see him depart.
To fight for Prince Aedion, to fight for
Terrasen—it had been worth it, the weight of
leaving his farmstead home behind. Leaving
behind that sweet-faced farmer’s daughter
whom he’d never gotten the chance to so
much as kiss.
It had been worth it then. But not now.
The friends he’d made in the months of
training and fighting were dead.
Huddled around the too-small campfire,
the soldier was the last of them, the fresh-
faced recruits who’d been so eager to test