THE REBIRTH OF FLAME
War is a plague unlike any other. There is no cure, no way to put a definitive end to it. It is an immortal illness Nampritt has been cursed with.
As enemy armies draw closer to the borders of Nampritt, the gi...
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PART I. | LIEUTENANT PHENYA
I STRIPPED MYSELF OF MY NAME BECAUSE OF MY FATHER. He is known as the country's traitor, the man who committed the most unforgivable act of treason. Because I wore his last name, I was seen as a threat since the ripe age of fourteen. I was a child and people treated me like a monster. So because I could not free myself of his last name, I changed my first name to something more namprish.
I joined the army in hopes to prove myself to the country—to a country that only saw someone who looked a little too much like the enemy, the girl who looked too much like her viridian mother. My father raised me to be the soldier he wanted; he trained me to be a frejtoryn people would fear. His training, as much as I loathe him for keeping me from my childhood, got me to the position I'm in today.
Today I was officially promoted to Treiv Laingrek, Third Lieutenant. A ceremony was held where many soldiers were given their new ranks along with their rank badges for their uniforms. I keep finding myself glancing down to my silver lieutenant pin in the shape of a spiny tail, more importantly a dragon tail. Lieutenants are the only soldiers to wear the tails, Third Lieutenants wear three tail pins that create a circle.
Looking around the banquet hall, I find the other soldiers who were promoted today with their families. Most people are conversing, socializing as any normal person would. My name has created social isolation for me rather than my poor socialization skills. In some instances I enjoy the peaceful company of myself, this is not one of those instances.
Being surrounded by so much love is rather suffocating. I don't have the pleasure to be in the presence of a family member who says they are proud of my achievements, or even a friend. I am gifted the judging eyes of those who only see me as a Sarkrofska, the traitors daughter, the possible next traitor as so many say.
Sitting at the table by myself with seven empty seats around me, I find it pathetic that I'm already on my third glass of wine in a matter of an hour. But what else do I have to enjoy besides the wine?
My mother always told me that making a new friend was as easy as watering a planet, it just takes effort. Today has quickly become another day where my grief takes the reigns over all other emotions. She would've been another mother saying how proud she is of her child.
"You know, most soldiers wouldn't look so miserable being in your shoes." The male voice snaps me back to the crowded room. Much to my surprise, a man sits at the table, a singular chair between us. In my many years of being hated because of Edvak Sarkrofska, I've learned only idiots or assholes sit this close to me.
