The Last Warlock

After a few boring hours.

Mack finally could move his legs and arms and dragged his tired body out of the silent battlefield.

Today was an eerie night. More than the already usual eerie nights.

Just like the quiet before the storm. This night was strangely and agonizing quiet.

Mack walked amongst the bodies on the ground while dragging his own tired body.

The silence only made all worst, not even screams for help, or other wounded warriors trying to save their poor lives.

Nothing.. Just broken bodies. Like dolls of a bored children. Everywhere.

Mack walked for a few miles until he saw the backline of the warlocks.

Reaching the warlock camp, Mack received a few odd glares but none tried to approach Mack, not even for a duel.

It seemed no one was in the mood for little games today.

The battle that was supposed to last for a hundred days was oddly reaching its climax.

And it seemed tomorrow would be a do or die kind of day.

Mack went to the food tent and grabbed a few white burritos.

He was starving.

And he would take anything he could have.

Mack didn't search for a table today and just seated beside the food tent.

He was too tired to even walk this small distance of two meters. He could not care if others thought badly of him. Or gave him odd glares.

He was in a damned battle, after all. What you want? Finesse?

Mack ate one 'white burritos' after another.

Truly like a madman.

Eating as if there was no tomorrow.

Five white burritos later.....

'Ohhh they must be glaring at me like that because I'm covered in blood'

Thought Mack, slapping his own forehead.

'No doubt. I would do the same as them.'

But Mack could not give himself the luxury of going to take a bath in the cleaning boxes.

'I need to rest more'

Mack lay back and rested on the pole of the tent food.

No one would openly kill him while sleeping.

Walocks had stupid traditions, but they had a solid moral ground.

At worst case, someone would come to annoy him for a duel. But today? Mack doubted. The atmosphere at the camp seemed far more eerie than the usual eerie days.

Mack had a few more hours of rest until the sun came from the mountains.

And most warlocks around seemed to think the same, all resting or sleeping.

Only a few kept watch while some did some maintenance or ate. All the rest was sleeping or resting.

The camp had indeed retreat all the way back to the small hill Mack was this morning.

And it was not anymore a single horizontal line of several small camps.

Looked more like a half moon of trenches protecting all the front and sides.

Mack guessed they intended to use this advantage point of the hill as the last line of defense.

~sigh~

'Lets stop thinking and sleep. I need to recover as soon as possible.'

Though Mack pulling down his ragged hood to cover his eyes for a better sleep.

He didn't had any dreams that night.

A FEW HOURS LATER

Something stumbled on Mack's legs.

Twice.

'What now?'

Mack lazily opened his eyes and saw three warlocks standing tall around him.

And one of them was Raz.

The other one was his ancestor NPC.

And the third, Mack never saw before.

Raz took a step forward and extended his arm in Mack's direction.

He seemed to try to insinuate for them to make peace, or just wanted to offer a hand for Mack to stand up?

~sigh~

Mack grabbed Raz's hand and stood up. Both looked at each other eyes but not a word was said.

Than like a mutual agreement, both gave light nods with the head. Together.

Both of them knew that they could only try to revert this war together.

There was no hope alone. Only death.

Mack looked to the warlock at his right side, the one he didn't know, but didn't say anything.

Just kept looking into his eyes.

After a few seconds, Mack lowered his gaze to that warlock belt and saw that there was only one rune carved on each side of the belt.

He moved his gaze back to Raz.

"Is that all you have?"

Raz took a drawing board and showed to Mack.

#Lets talk inside#

And pointed to the tent behind Mack.

Mack looked back and saw the tent was now empty without others distributing or preparing food.

Mack looked in Raz's eyes again and turned his back, entering the tent.

Raz and the others followed.

And the tent was closed.

ONE HOUR LATER

The tent was opened and the four came outside.

Mack looked to the sky and saw the day was about to bright again. But today the warm rays of light didn't make one feel any better.

It was a cruel battle going for days already. Everyone there saw somebody they knew die. Or worst.

It was a battle of resistance, yet, on this day, nobody seemed in the mood to resist anymore.

The morale of the warlock army was low. Even a blind man would see that this battle was lost already.

Their army was reduced to only the best or the lucky. All the rest were reaped from their duty and turned into ashes on the pyre.

"Are you sure?"

Asked Mack, looking behind him.

Raz, in response, gave a long a slow nod with his head.

Mack looked back to where the front of the battle would happen today.

Smoke was coming from the distant field, the remains of last night's battle.

Fireballs were the basic mage spell for wars. And that was not for no reason. They were truly devastating.

"Another shitty day ahead"

Said Mack, removing his sword from his belt and resting her on his shoulder.

He already forgot the count of how many shitty days he had since entering this dammed tower.