• The day was calm and muggy. The clouds above let no sunlight in, they covered this forgot land. The wind offered a chilly but slightly refreshing feeling. The towns’ people were nothing more then arrogant fools. The defenders of this town had long left and been forgotten by their once adoring public, some stayed longer then others. The town used to be filled with happy memories, good times, and even better friends. Parents had no reason to worry about their young, but now, the young rarely leave their homes. The air once smelled like thousands of flowers and trees as it was once filled with them. Now, all that can be smelled is smoke and death. The graves of those lost in the war take the place of the tree and the beasts that once inhabited the fields and forests.
    “Notta, D.I, and Peale what has become of our home?” A man asked the sky. He looked at the sky as if waiting for a response. But silence filled the air. The man sighed and lowered his head as he overlooked the town and it’s once beautiful fields. “It has become a place for sadness and death. What happened to all the happiness, the cheerful people? Is our old home doomed to a fate of destitution?” The man asked again. The wind blew a light breeze through the land. But the man received no answer. The man sighed in silent fury and depression. The few trees that remained were dead.
    The man wore a black polyester jacket with a grey undershirt and odd red necklace around his throat. His pants were black, rough, with a few dirt spots from the long journey. He carried 5 bouquets of chrysanthemums. He looked like he was in his early 20’s. But then again, looks can be deceiving. He made his way down from the hill he used to overlook the region. He walked through the oil and dirt covered roads. Stands upon stands stood on the sidewalks with merchants closing their stores and hiding away.
    A statue stood in the center of the town. It was no more then a decade old, but the conditions of the town had worn it down so much that the statue looked as if it were from ancient times. The man stared at the statue for an hour. The statue had the three soldiers and an abnormally large beast fighting. The very three that had saved the town and won the war against a ferocious shape shifter named Abdul.
    The largest one of the soldiers was in metal armor. He had a fake fox piece on top of his helmet that included the tail on the back, and a red cape. He was covered from head to toe in that armor. Only his yellow eyes could be seen, he held a large sword. The second soldier featured was a young tribal female. She had odd markings on her body. Two in particular were jagged and were placed diagonally across her face; she was holding two katana’s. The third and last soldier featured in the statue was another female but she looked more civilized then the previous. She had darker skin and alluring eyes that seemed cat-like. The tip of her upper fangs hung out of her mouth, a long, black and flowing cat-like tail behind her.
    This war was long before the war against the original demon lords. A plaque stood beneath the statue. The words were faded but still readable. “This statue was dedicated to the soldiers that gave their life for our home. We thank these three for facing the shape shifter Abdul and defeating him. We thank you, Ayame, Peale, and….” The last name was scratched and too faded to read. After a few minutes more the man departed from the statue and headed to the fields once filled with trees, but now graves of the fallen.
    Rows upon rows of graves engulfed the field where the children used to play. Rain began to pour down from the sky. The mans eyes darted from right to left looking at the rows as he came upon them. Forty-two rows of 20 graves on each side, which makes 840 deaths in the name of this town. All these deaths in vain, the soldiers wanted the future of their loved ones to be bright, they didn’t want any of this. What the town had become. The towns’ people never visited the graves, they never honored the soldiers, they simply ignored the past and fell right back into the pit which the soldiers sacrificed their lives to bring them out of. The town and its people fell right back under control.
    This did enrage the man quite a bit but he kept his cool. He had exploded on these peoples once before, thus the reason why they hide from him. The man fell to his knees in anger and angst. He looked at the last rows of graves. Five gravestones stood, worn, beaten, and dishonored with graffiti. The man place a bouquet on each of the graves, sitting there on his knees talking to his lost comrades in war, and that is where he stayed for the rest of the day. He stayed through the rain, and through the night.