“Forward!” The man on horseback beckoned with his blade. Men glancing at the endless golden ground were jolted temporary by the shout but quickly lowered their heads soon after. Holding their heads up high proved to be especially difficult in this harsh environment. They usually chatted as they marched, but they were silent as their parched throats did not want to lose even a sliver of moisture to the scorching heat. Some men’s heavy armour made every step more difficult than the last.

“Khaled, this can’t go on.” A close aid by the man advised. Khaled was silent, causing his aide to fall silent as he waited for Khaled’s response. Taking another glance at the exhausted man behind him, he sighed and stopped. The men on horseback behind him stopped, causing a domino effect on the rest of the army. The army stopped in its tracks as the men gazed at their Commander’s back.

Khaled steered his steed to meet his men’s gaze. Taking one more glance at his aide, he declared, “Bring out the camels from the supply wagon!” A cavalryman rode off at his behest to the supply wagon in the army’s centre. While waiting for the man to carry out his orders, Khaled rehearsed the following actions in his mind, preparing his body to perform its required act.

Twenty rather plump camels were retrieved and brought to Khaled’s side. Dismounting from his mount, Khaled unsheathed a blade from his sword. A couple of officers dismounted and stood around him.

“Hold the camel down.” He ordered, and his officers began holding the camel down. The animal panicked as Khaled slowly walked over with his blade.

Caressing the animal to calm it down, Khaled declared,” If you’re looking for water, here is your water!” He brought down his blade against the neck, ending its suffering quickly. With another cut, he began cutting away the mounds of flesh and brought out what seemed to be a giant fleshy waterskin.

“Their stomachs contain the water that you seek.” Khaled raised the camel’s stomach for his men to see. Officers who understood it quickly rode forth to their respective soldiers and relayed his words to the rest of the army. Khaled lay the stomach back into the corpse of the camel and urged the men at the front to sate their thirst. Like wolves who have not eaten for days, the men rushed forward disorderly, but the officers around Khaled helped to maintain some semblance of order.

Khaled rode up onto a dune and observed the never-ending landscape of brown for any unusual sights. But as usual, the environment was primarily unchanged, except for the footsteps that could be seen in the sand his men left. A man rode by his side and asked, “Khaled, our water supplies….” Before continuing, the man paused, “could only last about two weeks. Let’s not forget about the return trip. We are in a mostly foreign land; there may not be any oasis nearby to replenish our supplies. What’s the plan?”

“Khalil, how long do you think our enemies will chase after us? I’m sure they rushed over to crush us as soon as possible.” Khaled smirked as he gently brushed his horse’s mane. “And when their supplies run low… we shall launch an offensive.” A cheeky grin appeared on Khaled’s face as he thought of his enemies’ impending doom. He shared it with Khalil, who nodded.

“There’s only so much the men can take drinking water from camel’s stomachs. Let’s not make it a long-term thing.” Khalil warned and left Khaled with his thoughts in this wasteland.

The men marched on for about a week, and morale fell as the day passed. The camels that were constantly decreasing in number caused the men to worry about their falling supplies. Being an excellent aide to Khaled, Khalil naturally informed him about the men’s thoughts. Khaled immediately ordered the supply caravan to move at the tail end of the army, keeping their gazes away from the caravan. He dispatched half of his elite cavalry to sit in front of the procession, obstructing the increasingly scrutinising looks his soldiers gave. Even if his elite cavalrymen could not keep their mouths shut about their current supply situation, it did lessen the gross exaggerations that the ordinary soldier gave to his comrades.

“Khaled, it’s been about a week. It will take us about a week to march back to the nearest oasis. I suggest we march back and hit our enemies. I sent a couple of scouts to keep track of our enemies’ movements. They are following our trail closely.” Khalil advised.

“Not yet; keep moving,” Khaled ordered.

“But we’re going to run out of supplies….” Khalil let out a minor complaint.

“Keep moving forward.” Khaled brusquely replied and kept moving forward on horseback, causing Khalil to sigh.

Three days of supplies remaining. The men were growing restless, but they obediently listened to Khaled. A commander who never lost a battle, there was no doubt he would work his magic and somehow bring forth their victory. Rumours that only one day left of supplies were spread among the ranks, bringing much anxiety amongst the men. It got so bad that the men refused to move on step forward unless Khaled explained his intentions.

With a mutiny on his hands, Khaled rode forth to find his friend Khaled. He finally found Khaled by riding around the camp to find the tallest sand dune nearby. Before stating his presence, Khaled raised his hand, making Khalil fall silent. “It’s time,” Khaled murmured and rode back to camp.

“Khaled!” An officer called out to him as the two men rode back to camp. The officer opened his mouth to say something but closed his mouth a few seconds later, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words.

“Call everyone to the centre of the camp. I have a speech to give.” Khaled ordered, and the officer quickly scampered away, relieved that he did not have to give Khaled the bad news. Khalil observed Khaled as he walked away to the centre of camp. Soldiers were quickly ushered out of their tents and jogged to their respective preordained positions. Khaled stopped his mount at the front, straightening his posture as much as possible.

“It is time to strike our enemies back. My soldiers, are you not tired of running like rats? It’s time for us to be the hunters!” Khaled bellowed as the officers repeated his words to their men, who could not hear him at the back of the army.

“While we are at it, we shall take their supplies!” Khaled continued his words, causing smiles to appear on the weary faces of his men.

“After this battle, we can return home, bring our families to this new land, and grow endless wheat fields. My men, are you not excited for the final battle?” Khaled rhetorically asked, letting cheers be returned from some men. The officers added their special touches to Khaled’s words, ensuring that they would target the hearts and minds of the soldiers they led. The men cheered ever so louder. But he ended the final nail to the coffin, “I will bring out all of our camels, and we shall drink as much as we desire. I believe in our forthcoming victory.” The men salivated at his words as the water that was precious as gold was brought out. As blades fell, a joyous occasion was celebrated that day as the men drank their fill.

“The enemy should reach us by about tomorrow. Let’s hope our enemies are fatigued. You realised you have burnt our only remaining lifeline by burning our remaining resources, right?” Khalil queried as he frowned at Khaled’s seemingly reckless decision.

“We have no other choice but to fight to the death, and we will take our enemies’ supplies once we are victorious.” Khaled firmly replied and dismissed Khalil’s words with a single handwave, causing his eyebrows to furrow even further. Realising the futility of any further conversation, Khalil sighed.

“I pray for our victory,” Khalil uttered before leaving Khalil’s tent.

Men watched men across the desert. A new sight has dawned on the armies as foreign banners flew on each side. The scouts had already carried out a couple of skirmishes, but casualties were light on both sides. The troops stood at a distance away from one another. Soldiers dressed in heavy armour stood at the front as the cavalry flanked their wings. Archers stood behind them, ensuring that their weapons were in place. Minor skirmishes between the cavalry on both sides occurred throughout the field. None of them was taking place too near any one side, lest they expose themselves to the arrows of the opposing side. The skirmishes were pretty even, where no side was winning with an overwhelming advantage.

A soldier gulped, seeing the large numbers of men on the other side of the field. His heart rate increased as his mind began playing up the threat of his incoming obliteration. His nerves spiralled out of control as a thousand needles seemed to prick about his stomach, constantly keeping him on edge. A man patted his shoulder, causing the man to turn around. “You must be new. Have some faith in Commander Khaled; he never lost a battle.” The man gave some advice to the nervous soldier. “What’s your name, soldier?”

The soldier gulped before replying, “Bob. The name’s Bob.” His hands fidgeted around his blade as he took a couple of deep breaths, unable to stem the oncoming unease.

“Bob? A rather foreign name. Where did you come from?” The other man asked Bob. Another soldier scurried up to the man and whispered in his ear. Nodding at his newfound information, he turned back to the men he was responsible for and shouted,” Alright! We are ordered to move forward. Get in formation!” He turned around to glance at Bob before running back to his soldiers.

Very soon, Bob was called up by his officer in charge, and he got into formation. He stood right in front of the formation and held onto his blade for his dear life. “Forward!” His officer ordered, and the men began their descent into the chaotic battlefield. They moved forward steadily, and Bob could only watch the enemy foot soldiers behind the small glimpses that his shield gave. Arrows pelted onto his shields, and he could feel the weight of the arrows striking his shield. They constantly forced him back, but he kept his feet on the ground and used his lower body to support himself.

“Charge!” The officer gave the dreaded command, and Bob decided to suppress his fears. He began charging forward, raising his sword in an overhead strike as he pushed his shield to the front as much as possible.

“Bob! Get back in formation!” The officer called out, making Bob temporarily stop his charge as he turned around to look at his commanding officer. The men gave him strange gazes as the officer had an enraged look.

“Eh? Did my hearing go bad?” Bob sheepishly smiled and quickly scampered back as fast as he could.

“Behind you!” The officer screamed, and before Bob could turn around, a strong force struck against the back of his head, sending him to the ground. Losing his consciousness by the second, his eyes immediately closed, sending him to the endless abyss of the night. Before he fell into the dark, he felt a large rumbling coming from the ground before the night consumed him.

His body shook as night disappeared. Bob struggled to dispel the shades as he struggled to open his eyes. “He’s awake!” A man remarked as he held Bob up. Bob glanced about him and immediately took notice of someone’s legs right before him. He looked up, suppressing the pain at the back of his head.

“You did this?” The man asked, causing Bob to turn cock his head to the side in response. He took a much deeper scan of his surroundings as he wondered what happened between then and now. Another man helped Bob up as he scanned his surroundings. His face paled at the sight before him.

Bodies littered the ground. Bits and pieces of human flesh appear in places where they do not belong. Tens, no… hundreds lay on the ground, never to take another breath. He studied his attire and found as much blood, more blood to be sprayed all over his clothes. His mouth hung agape as he struggled to find justifications for his current situation, but the other man patted his shoulder, sending him a sympathetic gaze.

“What is your name?” He asked in a somewhat respectful manner. The man holding him up was taken aback by his tone but held Bob up.

“The name’s Bob. What happened?” Bob muttered as he tried to comprehend the incomprehensible. He looked at his hands, which were stained with blood. There were no open wounds on them, but it was soaked with blood.

Tightening his hold on Bob, the man explained,” Bob, you had taken down an entire unit all by yourself.” He sorrowfully added, “Your comrades are all dead.” Bob lowered his head, not sure how to react to the situation unfolding in front of him. He was a little sad due to his fellow soldiers’ death, but they did not know each other for too long; thus, he was not too attached to them. But he somehow fell his enemies?

Bob opened his mouth to explain himself, but the man beat him to the punch. “I understand how you feel, Bob. No need to explain yourself to me. As Commander of the army, I order you to rest.” Khaled demanded and strode away. The man holding Bob up sent him a pitying gaze as he followed behind Khaled, leaving Bob by his lonesome.

Unable to explain himself, Bob tried his best to remember what happened, but no answers were returned. Shrugging at this unexpected development, he decided to go along with Khaled’s story.

Bob the Berserker. A young boy gazed at a portrait of a heroic-looking man hung in the centre of the room. He could only admire his bravery and sympathise with sorrow in that fateful battle. Considering the craftsmanship of the painting, it said a lot about the artist’s thoughts on preserving their work if it could survive hundreds of years. The doors of the hallways opened with a soft creak, breaking away the boy’s thoughts.

A hooded man scampered in and walked on the carpet until he was only a couple of steps from the boy. “My lord, how can I serve you?” The man bowed before asking respectfully.

The boy smiled and beckoned the man to follow him. He began walking to a nearby meeting room, causing the man to follow behind him. The man closed the wooden doors, letting the two have a private conversation among themselves, away from the prying eyes of others in the castle.