Maraketh
The man fearfully retreated, and had all the attention of his squad. People he knew. People he had sailed with. And then he relayed the message. Laid out the two different options. To live, surrendering their lives and knowledge, or to die here today. Mutterings, arguments, chaos. But the despair finally settled in. Decisions were made. They were split. Two groups appeared, one larger than the other.

The man returned to the god Maraketh. He kneeled. Submission. ”The smaller group will accept your offer. The larger will accept your blade.” And then he stood. ”As for me, I’m no general. I’m no god. I am but a man who decided to fight. Not for his country. But for his people. For his family.” The small group grew smaller, the big group became bigger. ”And if I can never see them again… I will die for them.”

A hidden knife behind his arm. He raised it for Maraketh’s throat. It may as well have been a mile away, for he was but a mortal man. A normal man.

They had lost. That much was clear. They had been overpowered from the beginning, their force inferior by all means. Many looked down, but only one looked straight forward. Their decision had been made. ”Countrymen! We may live if different lands that were under different names. And yet now we are united, under one banner! Galven! Liberated!” The voice was clear. Genuine. Feminine. It was a woman who spoke so convinced. ”I will not break the kinship of all of you, neither will I give up on seeing my homeland again! If you need an hour to decide what to do, then you are not Galvese! On our arrival, I saw a forest to the East. We shall march. We shall build a ship. We shall return. I would not betray my homeland, nor would I be cowardly enough to take my own life. If my blood shall fall, it will be on the enemy’s blade as I journey homeward!”

She had their attention. Most of them were captivated. All of them were disinterested. They were listening to the words of a madwoman. Leave and build a ship? Forget escaping alive. A ship they build with their bare hands would hardly make it. But that one word rang in the back of their minds. Journey.

Even with no one responding, she didn’t lose her enthusiasm. She made her way out of the group, with no weakness in her posture or step. One foot marched in front of the other. ”The journey begins…” Any Galvese citizen knew those words. The beginning of their anthem. A beautiful song that made their defeated hearts ache. To them, the back of the woman… her shoulders seemed so large. A man stood up and rushed forward to get in line. ”Starts from within…!”

And then their indifference broke. One after another got up. ”Things that I need to know…” Again and again. Even those who had given up, who wanted to live and were willing to surrender, sang the words. ”The song of the bird…”Those words were full of guilt.

”Echoed in words… “ She marched onwards, leading her group. It was small compared to those willing to surrender. But those who put one foot in front of the other had determination. They would continue to march on, even if spears and blades were put in front of them. Even with a section of the Dearothian army ahead, the troops did not slow down. They looked ahead, past the army. They looked into the forest, and they saw their way home. ”Flying, for the need to fly.”