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There was something about the ancient site of battle that made one reconsider the path in life they walked down.

For most it would be a place they could contemplate the barbaric nature that all humans seemed to contain within their soul.  They could sift through the dirt and find the old rusted weapons, and armor, wonder how the people forged such interesting design, and wonder how anyone could fight with such rudimentary tools.  Others might be able to look at the sight from above and see the tactics left in the field, and see how those old generals moved their troops around to try and get an advantage over their counterpart, and see which side was more clever on that particular day.  Yet these ancient sights, these once important struggles, are often left with the wrong questions being asked.

Like who were the soldiers that fought here?  Did they have a family back home?  Did they say goodbye before they grabbed their spear and shield, and did they remember to look back one final time to see the face of their loved ones?  Would they ask a different question if they could see what Elsabeth could?

If they could see the hundreds of souls that dotted these senseless sights.  With their weapons still in hand, and their armor still strapped on?  If they could see the empty stares that are the only expression that remains after centuries of death?  Or the way they drag their bodies around trying to feel something again even if it was the dirt underneath their foot?  Or how their eyes scanned the area for something to break them from this spell?  How they watched the carriages as they passed by, and those who rode in them?  Of the momentary surge of hope that washed over their face that was quickly stripped away by the crushing defeat as they remained unnoticed?

How would they handle the wails?

Elsabeth kept her eyes forward as all around her the long forgotten soldiers wailed in unison as yet another day crept past them in death, moving them further and further away from the futures that were promised to them in life.  She knew all too well that she did not have the luxury of time, and if there was anything these people needed was time.  Time for Elsabeth to learn the history of the land, the languages her people spoke, the conflicts that raged before the church took its history, and found the least-gone spirit to further hone her proficiency with the language.  After, she would need more time to learn each individual spirit's stories, their wants, their regrets, and help them process and accept that there was likely no way for them to say their unspoken words, to profess their love, or to tell a child how proud they were.  And after all that time, work, and effort, she would need to record down their stories and find a way to preserve it for those who would come after.  All without pay because no one cared for the soldiers who were already gone.  All that while running from an uncle who did not know, or care, for those with Enlightened abilities.  All that while her own heart breaks ever so more at what she would no doubt learn.

Elsabeth knew that one day she would like to revisit this place, and every other one that she happened across beforehand.  All she would need is time.  Time to outlast her uncle, and time to further her own skills.  

In the meanwhile, she knew she needed to keep moving from place to place.  She had run away from a town whose name she could not recall a month ago as her uncles hired thugs closed in once more.  She had run through the fields, through the forests, across the creeks and across the rivers, until she happened across another town where she managed to earn a free stay at the tavern by helping the keeper's late husband cross over to the other side.  She was given fresh clothes for her station from the seamstress after conversing with her dead son, and she was paid quite handsomely by the mayor when she helped free a home from the relentless clutches of a spirit gone rogue.  It was with this heavy purse, and weariness from running, that caused her to choose this new town to inhabit.  Apparently a circus was in town, and as the wails fell away in the distance, she knew she needed the distraction.