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Screams of fear, young warriors, clad in armor which was supposed to protect them, too big on their bodies, crying out for their parents, beggin death not to take them so soon. 

“I d-don’t w-want t-t-to die…”

“M-Mom?”

“I’m s-so s-sorry… I l-love you, m-mom... “ 

Next to the screams of people dying, or the sound of friends begging each other to hold on, was the loud and ringing sound of metal hitting metal. Diamond hitting diamond. Netherite hitting Netherite. 

For someone from outside, this war seemed pointless. Thousands of years of war, generations who have never witnessed peace before, children who were born in war and died in war.

Peace was something which no one thought of anymore, it wasn’t something they deemed possible. Thousands of years of war and both princes from opposing kingdoms wondered why. 

Why was there a war?

Technoblade had read a lot about the history of his own kingdom but also about the kingdom of his enemy. Each side seemed to tell a different story. Tales about stolen gold, a stolen egg, kidnapped princes and princesses, killed spouses and crippled children. 

His kingdom firmly believed that the abhorrent End Kingdom stole their precious golden ores, protected by the flames of the Nether and the firepower of several high ranked demon- and blaze hybrids. They were all slaughtered that night. Or day. Some books say it was the precious blaze rods which were stolen, other tales say the End Kingdom kidnapped the oldest son of the king, trying to destroy the royal bloodline. If you asked someone in the Nether Kingdom how the war began, they would just stare at you, shaking their head, moving on with their lives. 

No one wants to talk about the war even though it has become part of their everyday lives. Always has been.

King Philza had been close to secure peace, something no one had believed in in over thousands years of war. There had been conversations about peace with the King of the End Kingdom, King XD. 

But before negotiation could begin, their hope had been destroyed. Destroyed by a careless soldier firing Holy Fire of the Nether in a battle against King XD. 

Holy Fire had the unusual characteristics that it never stopped burning, it could never be put out by water. Its blue flames would ravage over its victims body, until there was nothing left. Mistaken as an ordinary soldier, many warriors of the Nether Kingdom stomped on the screaming King, trying to end his terrified screaming. 

Technoblade had seen it first hand. The way the Prince of the End Kingdom rushed down to his fallen king, ripping his cloak off, desperately trying to put the flames out. The Piglin Hybrid had known that his attempts were futile. It left him speechless though when the young prince, Technoblade guessed they were around the same age, started cutting down the soldiers around him, while more and more Endian surrounded their king.

He had looked away that day. Just like his brothers did. Tommy, who had always screamed the loudest, bragging how he would end the lives of all Endians who would dare stand in his way, laughing while doing so, no remorse, had tears running down his face, hands over his ears, trying to block out the screaming of the terrified and tortured king, which would all hunt them in their nightmares. Wilbur stared straight ahead. At first glance it looked like he was watching the scene below him but later Technoblade would discover, he was indeed watching their father, King Philza, fly above the mass of people, who were desperately trying to help their king. Something fell down from the sky, the sound of glass shards barely audible.

A few seconds later it was quiet and the fire was gone. 

There was nothing more to do. It was clear who had won this battle. Tired Endians, many with wide eyes and tear tracks being the only thing which cleaned their faces off ash and blood, slowly took care of their wounded, and took their death with them. Until there was only a small group of people hovering around the king. 

Technoblade could see the prince and a few people he had seen a few times already, drag the king away, his two arms over their shoulders. XD seemed lifeless, clothes burned, skin torn and black, his once blond hair dark and matted.

It was truly a pitiful sight.

He’d picked up a road that cut through the forest on the edge of the farmhouse. From there, he followed sign posts - sounding out the letters as Ignis had taught him - until the trees began to thin and give way to open ground. In the distance, he could make out pointed roof tops and columns of smoke rising from chimneys - sure signs of civilization at last. Prompto paused at the edge of the woods to rub the ache from his blistered feet, and then he was off again, making for the town just beyond the horizon.

Cartanica had once been little more than a farming village. The war, of course, had changed all that, and with the growth of the Empire more and more outposts had been transformed into essential hubs for trade. Already situated on a major road winding down from the Imperial City of Gralea, Cartanica had expanded rapidly in both size and population - and consequently in unrest. Crime increased, and with it a jailhouse, complete with cells, stocks, and a gallows, was built in the center of town. To head the project, a young man (from an affluent family with questionable loyalties) was shipped in from High Command - one Ravus Nox Fleuret - and it was under his authority that the town went about its business.

Business like the kind Prompto stumbled into the moment he passed through the gates.

“Murderer!”

“Killer!”

“Monster!”

Blue eyes flashed open wide. Prompto found himself approaching a crowd of townspeople, all gathered in front of a set of cobblestone steps in what appeared to be some sort of plaza. The area was surrounded by thatched-roof houses and buildings that leaned at perilous angles; so close together that, at least to him, it was impossible to tell where one started and the next began. In the center of the plaza was a well, large and made of stone, unlike the wooden or brick ones Prompto had seen before.

But his attention was less on the scenery around him and more on the rabble of the townsfolk rising into the chill afternoon air. Murderer, someone had said. Monster. Though he hoped he was wrong, Prompto had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly who they were talking about.

A woman just in front of him raised her voice above the din. “He’s a killer! Should be hangin’ by the neck, not sittin’ in a cell!”

“That’s right! Hang the bastard, he said ‘imself he did it!”

“Ladies, gentlemen, please. Are we men, or are we bloodthirsty beasts?” There was a young man standing atop the steps in front of the crowd. Prompto noticed him for the first time, tall and with striking silver hair that matched the white of his coat and knee-high boots. He addressed the people with a thin smile that belied his annoyance, and pleaded with them as if speaking to a group of children. “Though the accused has confessed to his crimes, it is only right to offer him a fair trial. After all, justice is carried out in the courtroom, not at the gallows.”

His words were met with more protest and even louder complaints. Prompto watched as the silver-haired man’s expression grew haggard. He turned to a guard behind him, muttered something that couldn’t be heard above the noise of the crowd; and then he was back, waving his hands in the air to quiet the din.

“Listen, listen to me, all of you. I’ve sent to High Command to request a special investigator for this case. He’s due to arrive tomorrow, and you may take your grievances directly to him at that time.” A harsh look around at the townsfolk, who had at last fallen silent, as he continued. “Until then, go back to your homes. Lock your doors - lest you, too, fall victim to the madness that grips this town.”

Fear rippled visibly through the congregation. Some of the people nodded their agreement; others simply dispersed, the excitement of the moment having come to an end. Gradually, the plaza emptied, leaving Prompto alone at the foot of the cobblestone steps.

“U-um. Excuse me?” His voice sounded terribly small in the large space. He took a step forward, but stopped when the silver-haired man’s sharp gaze fell on him. “What were those people talking about?”