No Dreams In Darkness by cuarthol

Anfauglith

Prompt: Splendor lost

Being near the back meant she had little to do but be another body, following the heels that marched before her.  It also meant she felt the whips harder, but she reasoned a lash at the back was better than a sword at the front.

The metal shoes at least kept the soles of her feet from trampling directly over the steaming hot ash of the plain, but it did not prevent the slow warmth from growing in the metal until she wondered if it would not have been better to go without.

Still, she could stamp over coals and twisted bodies with little difficulty but to have slightly too-hot feet.  In Kurn’s estimation that was better than could be reasonably expected.

She was still nowhere near the actual fighting when the accursed sun began to rise.  The smoke still blocked out much of its hurtful light but not all of it, and she was glad for the helm that covered her eyes.

By the time she had nearly reached the front - meaning by the time that most of those in front had already fallen - there were few left to fight them.  Scattered pockets of resistance were quickly falling, and she was suddenly standing at the tall stone walls that had been built by their enemies.

At the base of the wall, among all the other crumpled and broken bodies, was a mass of golden hair matted red and black with blood and mire.  The armor was pierced through with many black-fletched arrows; the helm split; the eyes left open and unseeing, now dark.

Something deep inside stirred at the sight of it.  A feeling she could not identify because she had no frame of reference to understand it.  She stooped and cut a lock that seemed least fouled and shoved it into the pouch at her side before anyone noticed.