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The battlefield stretched endlessly before me. The sky was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh assaulting my senses. My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword, the metal slick with blood, some of it mine, but mostly theirs. My heart pounded in my chest, every beat echoing the rhythm of war—violent, relentless, unyielding.

I could hear the screams. I could always hear the screams. Men crying for mercy, their voices hoarse and broken. I was supposed to care, wasn’t I? The enemy was on their knees, hands raised in surrender. One of them—a boy, barely a man—looked up at me with eyes wide, pleading. His sword had long since fallen to the ground, and his hands trembled in the air, his lips quivering.

"Please… mercy," he begged.

My sword hovered above him, but I didn’t hesitate. The weight of Tadeos' orders, the expectations of the army, and the fear of being branded a traitor pressed down on me. There was no mercy. Not for them, not for us.

I brought the blade down, silencing the boy’s cries forever.

And then, silence. The battlefield was suddenly devoid of sound, save for my ragged breathing. The faces of the dead stared up at me from the blood-soaked earth. I tried to turn away, but they were everywhere. I stumbled back, my vision blurring, and my chest tightening.

"Mercy… mercy…" The word echoed in my ears, but it wasn’t the boy's voice anymore. It was my own. The battlefield dissolved into a dark void, and I fell into it, my hands still stained with blood.

I jolted awake, my heart racing, drenched in sweat. It took me a moment to realize I was no longer on the battlefield. The nightmare clung to me, its weight heavy on my chest. I sat up in bed, running a hand through my damp hair, trying to shake the images from my mind.

The knock came again, louder this time, snapping me fully into the present. I threw the covers off and crossed the room, my hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of my sword resting by the door. I opened it, expecting one of our men with news, but the sight before me made me freeze.

Standing there, after all these years, was Cassius.

For a moment, I could hardly believe it. He looked older, and rougher around the edges, but it was him. The same Cassius I had fought beside, both in Garios’ army and later under Tadeos. We had been through so much together and shared victories and losses, but our paths had diverged when I chose to stand up to Tadeos.

"Mannes," Cassius greeted with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar gruffness I hadn’t realized I’d missed. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

I shook my head, a smile creeping onto my face despite the lingering heaviness of the nightmare. "I might as well have. Cassius, what the hell are you doing here?"

Cassius stepped into the room without an invitation, typical of him, and clasped my hand with a firm grip. "I heard you were in town, and I thought it’d be a shame if I didn’t visit you. You’ve been causing quite a stir around here, old friend."

I chuckled dryly. "I wouldn’t say that. Just doing what needs to be done."

Cassius looked around the room, nodding approvingly. "I’ve heard. I’ve also heard about what happened with Tadeos." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "You stood up to him. In front of the whole army, no less."

I exhaled slowly, the memories of that day rushing back. "Someone had to. He gave orders that went against everything we fought for."

Cassius nodded, his gaze dropping for a moment. "I wasn’t as brave. I followed his orders. I pillaged that village when they refused to give up their harvest. Burned their homes, watched the families suffer." His voice grew quieter, laced with regret. "You were right, Mannes. I wasn’t... And I’ve had to live with that."

I glanced away, the weight of his words sinking in. Cassius had always been a good man, but even good men could be caught in the tides of bad decisions. "We’ve all made choices we regret," I said, my voice softer than before. "But you’re here now. What’s done is done."

Cassius looked up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You know, it’s good to see you again. After everything we’ve been through... It almost feels like the old days, back when we fought for something real. Under Garios, we were soldiers with a purpose. Under Tadeos, we were just…" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"Lost," I offered, and he nodded.

There was a brief silence, the kind that only two veterans could share, filled with memories that didn’t need to be spoken.

Cassius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Anyway, I hear you’re putting together a mercenary group. Tadeos’ army’s disbanded now, and I’m a free man. How about recruiting an old friend for a while? I could use some purpose again. And I’d much rather fight alongside you than wander."

I studied him for a moment, taking in the worn lines on his face, the scars that marred his skin, and the quiet desperation in his eyes. We had been through hell together, and while we had taken different paths, the bond we shared had never really been broken.

"Of course, Cassius," I said with a grin. "I could use someone like you. It’d be good to have you by my side again, like old times."

Cassius’ face lit up, and for a moment, it was like we were back in Garios’ army, two soldiers fighting for a cause that mattered. He clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm, but filled with an unspoken gratitude.

"Good," he said. "It’ll be just like the old days. We’ll make sure this time we’re fighting for something worth fighting for."

As we sat down to share a drink and reminisce about the battles we’d fought, I couldn’t help but feel a weight lift off my shoulders. The nightmares would never truly go away, but having someone like Cassius by my side again—someone who understood—made it all feel a little more bearable.

For the first time in a while, I felt like I wasn’t alone in this fight.