Editing White wall (section)

===Number III===

"The soldier looks around. His foe lays motionless at his feet. His allies have all have left for brighter futures and promises of tomorrow, and for the first time in a long time, he stands alone.

With the death of his last remaining foe, so too dies his purpose. His single reason for being, snuffed out with a stroke of his sword. He turns to leave, but finds himself unable to take a step. They called him brave, they called him fearless. He had charged into battle against a thousand demons without hesitation, and had stormed the castle of the master of all that is evil without a single thought. But this, his first step away from the life he has always known, is the hardest thing he has ever had to do.

Mustering his strength he steps forward, and does not stop walking."

"It had been a long time since the soldier had returned home, and finding nowhere else to go he had found himself once more standing in front of the charred remains of the orphanage he had once called home. He remembers the hatred he had felt all those years ago when the raiders came and took from him what little he had. Now looking at the ruins, however, he finds no sorrow; No anger. Just tranquility, and an orphanage needing to be rebuilt. Picking up a hammer and nails, he gets to work."

"It was a peaceful life, working the land to pay the bills. The events that seemed so important not even fifteen years ago slowly started to blur in the soldiers mind. Replaced with thoughts of peace and happiness living and caring for the children of the orphanage. While the Great War felt like a distant memory, it's effects were still visible in the faces of those who were left without parents. It was a feeling he couldn't express, as he was never a man of words. But in his own way, he felt like he was still fighting for peace and justice. He quickly found that he preferred the smiles of his surrogate children to the bloody battles that had once been so common place. Occasionally though, late at night when he was sure the children were asleep, he would sometimes unlock the cabinet that now holds the armor he wore on that fateful day. He would put it on and feel the weight of his trusted blade in his hand. Listening to the sound of the intricately designed plates rubbing against one another as he moved was like listening to an old but beloved song. However as time moved on he found it harder and harder to remember the words. Eventually, years would pass at a time between visits to his old friend. When he would open the cabinet door he would see the dust accumulated on the glimmering plate, and it would fill him with sadness. As valuable as this armor would be, he could not bring himself to part with it. A memento to who he once was, hidden away from the rest of the world."

"It was a night like any other, dusk had just fallen as the soldier was walking back to the orphanage from the neighboring town with a basket full of bread and meat for supper. However, unlike any other night, this night there was a distinctive rustle in a bush along the road he was traveling. Spotting it instantly, the soldiers mind snaps back to a time long ago. Preparing for an ambush he continues to walk cautiously down the path when out from the bush springs a single cloaked figure brandishing a rusted short sword. After preparing for the worst the soldier is surprised to see the face of a ragged youth, no older than 17, demanding that he drop the food or perish. Without meaning, the soldier barely manages to stifle a laugh. Enraged at the perceived mockery, the boy thrusts forward with his shoddy blade only to be easily disarmed by the practiced hands of the soldier. Surprised by how easily he was defeated, the boy slowly backs away when he's suddenly approached by the soldier. The boy stares in confusion as the soldier hands back his blade without a word, and proceeds to adjust the boys arms and feet into a stance more befitting a warrior, before stepping back a few feet as if to say try again. Again, the boy swings at the man standing before him, but this time faster and with more power. Quickly side stepping his swing, the boy tumbles forward onto his face. Smiling, the soldier bends down. Offering a loaf of bread from his basket to the boy, the soldier speaks in a gruff voice. 'Come, son. You have much to learn.' "

"They say you can judge the measure of a man by who comes to visit them on their death bed. The soldier slowly opens his eyes. No Kings stand to greet him. Nor dukes, dragons, dignitaries or demi-gods, but the space around his bed was not empty. Instead, it is filled with those who he so proudly calls his children. Fighting back tears they look down at the aged man laying in his bed, their hands out stretched to rest on his cold frame, fruitlessly trying to warm his weakened body. Strength left the soldier quite suddenly weeks ago, and he knew his time was short. Smiling up at his children and reassuring them that everything will be alright, the elderly soldier thinks back on all the good times, his mind never once settling on the war. His life as a soldier had ended long ago when he took that first step, and he has been walking ever since. But now, as he prepares to take his final step, he is reminded of one task left undone. Searching for a particular set of eyes, the soldier pulls a single, ordinary looking brass key out from around his neck. The boy who once tried to rob him on the side of the road is standing closest to his head, unable to suppress his tears as they flow soundlessly down his cheeks. No longer a child, the mans eyes seem confused as the brass key is pushed into the palm of his hand. The elderly soldier smiles weakly, and in an almost sing song voice recites the phrase every person in that room has heard almost a thousand times while growing up.

'Where the corrupt seek to conquer the small,
That is the place where the White Wall stands tall.'

There, surrounded by his beloved children, the soldier closes his eyes for the last time. And right as his consciousness fades into darkness, he can't help but notice how this final step is infinitely easier than the first."