"By the grace of Niva , I can't believe it! Seven days...seven! And the rain still hasn't stopped!” The soldier exclaims, taking off his metal helmet, feeling that his head was already heavy enough from being soaked to continue wearing it.

“Don't exaggerate, right now only a few drops fall. Although I do miss the sun.” His companion responds by changing the hand with which he held the spear being on the opposite side of the door.

"And worst of all is the noise of those so-called refugees. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't have to watch so strictly.” His voice clearly indicated contempt.

"I say it again, don't exaggerate. The crying of the children and the cries for food may be a bit annoying, but after a while you get used to it. I suggest you do it quickly and most important of all... don't feel sorry for anyone, do you understand? No one.” He had to speak a little loudly because of the distance that separated them.

"Why would I feel sorry for homeless people who want things to fall out of the sky for them? No, things are not like that in life and they have to learn it.” His words really didn't have a hint of compassion and that's what he really thought.

"I suppose you are the right man for this position." He changes his spear hand again, a habit he was doing without realizing it, and remembers the fuss others made out of pity.

“Hey! Looks like someone's coming with an escort.” His companion interrupts his habit and makes him look up, fixing it on the man who was leading the ten or twelve men who were following him, he wasn't sure how many because of the distance.

"Right, I heard that someone from above was coming to supervise things. The truth is that it was necessary, it is one of the most difficult seasons when it is still not cold enough to calm people down.” The word calm encompassed many meanings.

The distance between the escort and the two guards is shortened while they gave him their full attention, this was understandable when spending hours looking at the same landscape, some change was welcome.

The guard switches his spear hand again when the man leading the escort is close enough to see the features on his face.

Brown eyes the same color as his hair and a shaved beard that indicated it was a few days old by the tips that peeked out from his chin. The man makes eye contact with both of them and bows his head slightly in greeting. This only lasts a few seconds, but it leaves a strong impression on both of them, perhaps caused by the perfect horses with impeccable mounts or the leather armor over the gleaming chain mail. Maybe it was a combination of all these features, but the highly experienced soldier knew the real reason.

“A born leader.” Someone whose charisma attracted people around him consciously or unconsciously. “This is good, as long as I manage to please him. Who knows? Maybe he'll let me out of this lousy post.” While thinking this, he changes the hand with which he was holding the spear again. “And apparently this one does not consider himself a king.” He remembers the moment in which he greets them with his eyes and what this meant.

All these thoughts occurred in a simple soldier on guard at the farthest and least troublesome gate, a soldier in the habit of fiddling with his spear.

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“The snowfall will arrive soon, the rain announces it.” Says the gray-haired man for his years and slightly shorter than him as he dodged through the muddy puddles of water.

“Yes, they promise to be severe this year.” Erk averts his sad eyes at the sight of women and children, and even old men, who were piling up at the gates of the border post between the lands of his birth and those of his neighbor who ruled with the name of Inmerlan .

"How many refugees are there this time?" He directs the question to the old man.

"We don't keep count. More always arrive and when they stop... the number starts to go down.” He says it without emotion after contemplating the same event year after year while his empathy was corroded.

Erk frowns at his response but says nothing, he knows that the reason the was put in charge of this place is to train him and harden the remnants of his heart enough to be an ideal leader, those were some of the words of the Lord Berner .

This was his first assignment after the failed mission to capture Ezer Inmerlan, and of course, his punishment for it. There was still a chance that the boy decided to cross the border, although it was very slim and Erk almost forgot the matter in the back of his mind.

Goes up the stairs until reaches the top of the wooden wall and he can see the extension of the refugees and the humid forests in the background. The sight makes him sigh thinking of all the work ahead of him and the inevitable repercussions his actions would have, but this again, was part of his job and passion, despite being a down side.

He was about to mention something to the old man next to him when multiple bells ring throughout the outpost.

"They crossed the barrier! They crossed the barrier!” A guard shouts at the top of his lungs indicating the crossing of the wires that they had as a blockade.

Erk sighs again at the sight of a group of people running with all their might trying to enter their land while soldiers tightened their ropes aiming arrows at them.

The screams come shortly after the sound of the arrows cutting the wind, the same thing happens with the second volley and a third is not launched by orders that come out of his mouth unexpectedly.

The soldiers look at him with curious eyes and he remembers again the reason for that order.

The screams that hit his conscience had something to do with it, but that was not all. No, something else forced his instinct to do it, something even he didn't understand, though it had captivated him.

A flash, a golden flash shone as it reflected the light that had seeped through the clouds and rain at that very moment.

A golden flash that would change his life.