My eyes blinked open as the cold, grey light of dawn washed over my bruised and battered body. I groaned as I tried to move to a sitting position but every inch of my body cried out in protest.
Once I was sitting up, I was able to see the dead and dying surrounding me. I suddenly remembered that I had been in a battle. My people had been slaves to the King of Joshic for generations, but there was a prophecy that that a crimson haired woman would lead us to freedom.
Red hair was scarce with my people and it had been a thousand years since the prophecy until I was born, with a full head of auburn hair. As I grew up, my hair just got more and more red, which caused everyone around me to revere me since everyone thought I was the promised one.
I was given the best education that a slave race could get away with and I was sheltered from doing any work. I thought it was great until I realized that I was expected to free my people from the tyranny of the Joshicites.
An army was formed and on my 18th birthday, we marched to the castle. I made our demands for freedom and when the King refused, we began to set siege to the castle. It seemed to go well for a while, but my army wasn't trained as well as the royal troops.
The royal troops had been called back from the foreign wars and tore into my ragtag army without pity or mercy. I fought as hard as I could, but I vaguely remember taking blow to my head. After that everything went back.
Groaning, I managed to get to my feet. Swaying slightly, I looked over the battlefield again, taking in all the destruction. The weight of responsibility for all of this made my knees start to buckle under me. But then I heard a shout behind me.
"We have a live one over here," the voice said. I turned slowly, wincing as I did so. I saw a squad of royal troops with their swords drawn, advancing towards me.
My mind spun through all the possibilities as all I could do was blink and stand there. "I surrender," I called out, "We all surrender."
The soldiers bound me and took me into custody. I cast my eyes down, unable to look the scores of people I had led to their deaths. I knew I would also die for my crimes and I welcomed the release from the responsibility of savior that had haunted me my entire life.
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Crosshavenharpist challenged me with "The cold, grey light of dawn...." and I challenged Mediocre Wayne with "The Love of A Child"