Third Line

The voices of the slain call out to us, mere whispers on the wind. For none of us remain untouched by this war. We have all lost kin, or those we hold as dear as kin. Yet pride and honour demands that we put grief aside. Until the time comes, if ever, in which we can allow ourselves the luxury of remembrance.

Those of us left may never have the chance to grieve. We go now to the lands of the enemy, and my men march to their deaths.

I shall be the first and last king of my line.

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For the HASA Drabble Decisions Challenge.