A child no larger than the year of six knelt before me. As I unsheathed my steel, her eyes fill with not fear, but hope. Hope that I might deny my orders that are destined to come. This small child, with wisdom of hardships far beyond her years pleads silently for her life, her life that is mine to give. My lord screeches the order and with but slight hesitation, the child is no more. I laid her body gently on the soiled grounds and removed my sword from her soulless body. As the weeks pass by, she visits me in my dreams, staring at me, mocking me, for I am but a soldier fighting for a cause which has no meaning, slaughtering the innocents of