The Grim Field

As you near the bodies, you're overwhelmed by emotion. These soldiers died defending their homes, slaughtered by an opposing army, and lost. Their home died with them, incinerated by the savage murderers. Who knows what happened to all of the hopeless, helpless innocents within. Looking down at your armor, you realize that you could have been one of those who fell here, and that you may be the only survivor of this massacre, the only one who can tell to live the tale, but that the trauma has apparently wiped the memory from your mind, so you can't. You're consumed by an intense mix of fear and rage and hopelessness as you realize that you're completely alone.

You study the bodies of those who have fallen. The first thing you notice is that they're all women. You can't remember enough about your society to know if that's normal or odd, but it somehow strikes you as significant.

Your move over the bodies. You hate whatever force caused your amnesia, for though you know that you should be mourning over each and every soldier, for they must all have been friends, you can't. Though the tragedy strikes you intensely as a whole, you're numb to each individual face.

Then you see one particular body and you feel something odd. The woman lies on her back, bloodily beaten. Her side has been ripped open, her neck has apparently been broken, her back has been brutally slashed, and there's an ugly, gaping wound on her head. She lies somewhat separated from the others.

You can't tell why, but for some reason you're insatiably drawn to her. You feel as though she was important to you once, almost -- it's crazy to think it, but it's how you feel -- almost as if you were her once.

1. You linger over this body, trying to remember why you feel the way you do about it.

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