Cold, brittle yet vulnerable, she had lain with stacks of bodies encircling her, unable to perceive the truth behind it.
Eyes, motionless similar to the lillies she had left back home, stared back at her: the eyes of the people she had just seen the life being drained out of. But was it her who had done it? She was too deranged and bruised to recall some of the actions that had led to this catastrophe.
However, she was sane enough to realize that they had similar carvings on their battle shields; her and the men who had fallen to their demise. Were they fighting for the same side? Had they lost?
No sooner could she have wrapped her head around this ugly fact, two men were emerging from the ruins of the tragedy that had taken place that day. An ounce of hope had widened her eyes, had made her boiling blood calm down with the thought of rescue.
As she was clinging onto some sort of hope, a stick with a sharp edge was being stabbed onto each of the corpses one after another; rupturing their organs and making sure there were no survivors left by scouring the battle-field full of human debris.
The soldiers kept getting closer and their proximity sent her heart racing. It was only a matter of seconds until her eyes had lost their meaning… as did her lilies back home.