For 100 years, the kingdoms of Ramidere and Stohan had been locked in a deadly war, the Blood War. Too many lives had been lost and not even half the bodies had been recovered. The two kingdoms had been hopelessly stuck in a stalemate and neither about to wave a white flag. They were locked in some game of tug-a-war, with no side having a clear upper hand as territories were constantly being won and lost across the board. Although comparing war to a game is a fickle thing.

The carriage rolled over a gravel road. Margaux gazed out the small glass window, taking in the effects war had on the small town of Sirid. Explosions had crumbled homes and created gaping craters in the ground, which the coachman navigated around expertly. A half dozen guards marched outside, on either side of the vehicle. Their blue suits were primly pressed and perfectly buttoned, their weapons held in their hands. As they reached the end of the gravel road, Margaux felt her stomach sicken at the new sight.

The fight had been dubbed “The Blood War” by the people’s of Ramidere for a reason. So many people had died on the sandy plains separating the two kingdoms that the ground was permanently stained red. And Sirid, being on the very outskirts of Ramidere, had a backyard view of the entire sprawling red desert.

“This way, Your Highness,” a servant said to Margaux as he opened the door. She blinked and ducked out of the carriage, her boots landing firmly on the ground outside. She looked out at the desert with squinting eyes, taking in the bloodied sand and dead bodies. Her stomach twisted at the stench, which she could still smell from so far away. Those bodies, left out there. The bodies of the young and old, soldiers all the same who had died honoring their kingdom. _Her_ kingdom. Soldiers who had loved ones, loved ones who would never get to give them a proper burial.

Margaux walked down the gravelly road, toward the stage where she was to give her speech. It would be broadcasted to the entire kingdom of Ramidere, to lift up their spirits and encourage more to join the war efforts. She normally didn’t do such things, but with her father’s sickness and her mother’s recent death, there was nobody else to turn to. So Margaux stepped on stage and tipped her chin up, despite the uncomfortable swirling of her stomach. She hated the war, but she wasn’t in charge, her father was. And perhaps it had gotten too out of hand for even the King to stop. Either way, she had no choice but to speak.

Margaux stood on the stage, the bloodied sands spreading out behind her. With the cameras trained on her and their red lights blinking, she began to recite the words she had practiced all morning. “Kingdom of Ramidere. I am Margaux Zara Barlowe, your princess. I am currently in Sirid. Behind me you can see the Red Desert. You may think…”

-

“Fire!” Sergeant Tucker yelled. In sync with his fellow soldiers, Jameson loaded the barrel of his gun and fired over the wall of the trench. For a moment, he was able to glimpse the land beyond. It was filled with a thick smoke that turned the sky gray and made everything blurry. Hazy figures, Ramidere soldiers, fell as he fired his gun.

_Crack. Crack. Crack._ Shots from Jameson and the rest of Unit 367 rang out through the air, echoing in his ears. Beside him, another soldier by the name of Lukas was reloading his gun. Suddenly, more sounds were added into the mix. Different gunshots, coming from farther away. From the Ramidere soldiers. Jameson continued to fire his gun until he saw Lukas slump forward beside him. He must’ve gotten shot—through the fog, Jameson could see blood seeping from the shoulder of Lukas’s jacket and into the dirt.

“Get down!” Sergeant Tucker hollered, rolling down into the trench. “GET DOWN!” Jameson hastily dropped to the ground, pulling Lukas down with him. He couldn’t be sure if his friend was alive or not, but there was no time to check. All eight soldiers and their Sergeant waited, rifles in hand, as enemy fire flew over their heads.

There was a cease in the gunshots. On the other side of Jameson, Sergeant Tucker cocked his head to listen. Jameson ears were ringing much too loudly for him to hear anything, so the silence made no difference to him. He started to get up again, preparing to peep over the lip of the trench and fire. But Sergeant Tucker caught him by the shoulder and held him down. He must’ve heard something.

“GRENADE!” Sergeant Tucker yelled. Despite his temporary loss of hearing, Jameson got the gist of what was happening. The soldiers scattered away from their spot in the trench. Jameson dragged Lukas by the straps of his army gear. He couldn’t hear his friend’s groans and pleads to leave him behind. Even if he could’ve, he wouldn’t have. No soldier was left behind, not in the Stohan Army, and definitely not in Unit 367.

When the grenade exploded, it was loud enough that Jameson could actually hear it. He was knocked off his feet and blown forward by a blast of heat. His head hit the ground hard and he thanked God for his helmet. Something heavy landed on top of him, but he was so dazed he could only register the pain. After a moment, he was dimly aware that blood was soaking his uniform, but he wasn’t sure if it was his or not. Within a moment, he faded out of consciousness.

When Jameson came to, his ears were still ringing. The weight was gone from his back. His eyes were facing the still-smoky sky. He had gotten used to its color, just as he had gotten used to the putrid scent of dead bodies that filled the trenches. His head throbbed and his back was in excruciating pain.

Jameson laid there for a long time, waiting to die. He was in too much pain to move and he couldn’t hear anything around him. He watched as it turned to nighttime, which was hard to tell with the blanket of smoke covering the battlefield. But he could make out a few twinkling stars, so he gazed up at them to distract himself from the pain. There was nothing but himself, his thoughts, and his pain. He longed for Zara, his love. What if he never saw her again? The thought made his heart hurt worse than even the pain did. How long would it take her to find out he had died? No, she would never find out, not unless she looked into it herself. She wouldn’t be notified. Nobody knew they were in love. He couldn’t even remember the last words he had written to her.

When it became clear he wasn’t dying anytime soon, Jameson slowly hefted himself up. Pain shot up his back at the simple movements, but he ignored it the best he could and looked around. He was no longer in the first trench, that was for sure. Not a soul was in sight, though his pack was nearby. He crawled to it, using his hands to pull himself while his back felt like it was on fire.

Jameson slumped over beside his bag, digging into the contents to find a piece of crumpled old paper and a cracked pen. Then, with shaky hands and grit teeth, he began to write. It was a slow, agonizing process that required many breaks. But he knew he had to do it.

_Dearest Zara,_

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_This letter will be short, for I am in too much pain to write as much as I usually do. Do not worry for me, I am fine. I am alive, and that is all that matters. I saved a man’s life at almost the sacrifice of my own. But do not be mad at me, either. It opened my eyes to the scary revelation that I may never see you again. It is very possible that I may die out here…_

-

_“…but my love for you will never cease_,” Margaux read, her fingers clasping the dirty parchment as if it were a lifeline, “_You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I am a lucky man to have met you and to receive your love. I am even luckier to be able to know that you will never have to fight in this war._”

Margaux paused, her heart dropping at the thought of losing him. All she did, every day, was worry for him. She felt so sick every time she did, like she was betraying her kingdom. But she loved Jamie more than she had ever loved anyone else.

“_I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back into battle. I’m still out in the field, but I’m pretty banged up_,” she continued to read, “_I don’t like the thought of my friends fighting without me. At least you’ll know I’m safe. As of now, I am alive, but like always, I cannot tell you how long that will last for. So let us enjoy this while it lasts._”

Margaux took a deep breath before she read his last line, her eyes watering and her hands sweating from how tightly she held the paper. “_I love you more than anything and I miss you more each day out here. Love, Jamie._”

-

As Jameson finished the last line, he sighed heavily and dropped the pen to the ground. It rolled across the dirt before stopped by his shoe. He closed his eyes for only a moment, gathering his strength and gritting his teeth.

_I will wake back up_, he told himself, _I will get up and walk out of here alive for her._

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**And so he did. **