Ervius was excited to fight this war. Truly, he was. He’d spent the entire cart ride down to his station daydreaming about driving his sword through the hearts of those vile Faktyra soldiers and giving them what they deserve for being such heathens — they followed the story of the Twelve Stars, after all, not the First Sun.

He had thought he would be battling soldiers. The people surrounding him aren’t soldiers. They’re civilians. People. Families. Parents, friends, neighbours, elders, children. Ervius knows there were rumours of unruly behaviour in the cities of Faktyra, but he didn’t think they were talking about this.

Ervius didn’t think his mission would be to kill civilians. He glances to his fellow soldiers, watching as they grip their swords and spears tightly. No, surely they’re mistaken, right? Surely they’re just taking a detour through the streets before they reach the real battlefield, right? Ervius feels slightly nauseous. He swallows the feeling down. They won’t be killing civilians. There’s no way they’re here just to massacre. This is war, damnit, not…

Ervius isn’t sure he even hears his commander’s next orders. “Kill anyone who looks at you wrong. They start fightin’ back and you slash their throats.” He does hear the way his armour clanks as he tenses up completely. Ervius’ stomach drops. His heart races, his face suddenly feels cold. This really isn’t a war.

This is an invasion.