Sunset
Once a sworn defender of his general now found himself reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. Starving and defeated, he limped the battlefield, a forlorn figure in the fading light of the setting sun. The proud warrior of the past, now moved like a ghost among the remnants of war. A haunted soul in search of what, he did not know anymore.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the plateau, a caravan of treasure hunters from Antioch emerged on the scene. Veterans in the art of salvaging, these professionals were seasoned in extracting valuables from the aftermath of battles. Having been on the road for weeks tailing the Roman army passing by, the glimmer of gold and the prospect of forgotten treasures drew them to the battlefield like moths to a flame.
In the distance, they spotted the housecarl – a mere silhouette against the dimming crimson sky. To the scavengers, he seemed like a wayward soul, a nobody to be ignored in the grand scheme of them. The caravan trotted past the weary housecarl, their attention focused on the battlefield’s potential spoils. Preferably not breathing, and in the form of useful metal.
However, the glint of silver caught the eye of one astute salvager just as they passed by. A necklace, shimmering with an otherworldly radiance, adorned the neck of the defeated specter of a man. In an instant, the scavengers surrounded the housecarl, demanding the relinquishment of the precious adornment. Making the logical point of the necklace being no use to him now, and that he is free to go once he does so.
Weary from the trials he had endured and fueled by the profound meaning the necklace held for him, the only thing that was physical and unbroken in this Godsforsaken place, the housecarl meets the eye of the closest scavenger with a growl, a feeble defiance of the impending threat. Before everyone except one knew, an arrow sliced through the air, finding its mark in the housecarl’s neck. With the remainder of life leaving his body through his exposed aorta, he crumpled to the ground, falling like a bale of hay without resistance.
Was it necessary? Who knows. They just knew that it did not matter. And also knew the beautiful glint of silver that was now free to take.
Scavengers, momentarily intrigued by the extraordinary find, made casual comments about their unexpected discovery. However, their attention quickly waned as they resumed their scan of the battlefield, horses carrying them away into the twilight with run-down carts in tow. The sun, casting its final hues over the plateau, witnessed the departure of scavengers, leaving the bodies with thousands of tales to tell behind. All the bodies, and just one more.
Epilogue
On a calm moonlit night, as a pillage ship swayed slowly from Antioch coast to Gaza bay, an experienced fortuneteller discovered the disfigured “T” shaped necklace in a chest among the spoils. The silverwork pendant, once worn by a nameless housecarl on a desolate battlefield, now found itself in the hands of someone who could discern the threads of fate woven into its primitive cross.
The fortuneteller, well-versed in the language of symbols, traced the contours of the necklace with knowing fingers. The night was hushed, the full moon casting its ethereal glow upon the ship’s deck, and the air seemed charged with a mysterious energy. The fortuneteller sensed that this was no ordinary piece of silver and a cross; it carried a weighty tale, a narrative soaked in blood and steeped in the anguish of battles fought. Battles being fought. Battles are to be fought.
With an enigmatic smirk, the fortuneteller mused about the perfect person to sing the tale woven into the necklace. A figure who could shake the foundations of the known world, someone positioned at the southern edge of their journey. A narrative that could spark a revolution and stir countless hearts of those who heard it. It would take some time, but such legends possess all the time in the world.
As the fortuneteller envisioned the unfolding of this tale, the primitive cross necklace glittered in the moonlight. Its lustrous shine seemed to echo the silent promise of a story that would reverberate through the annals of history, setting in motion events that would reshape the destinies of nations. The full moon bore witness to the necklace’s newfound journey, carrying with it the whispers of an untold saga that awaited its moment to unfold.