Chapter 88: Shot

Six months ago.

Tiny feet pitter-pattered upon the hallway floors, a woman in pink dashed through the corridors. Her maidservants attempted to catch up, but they were no match. 

With the wind caught in her lungs, the breeze against her hair, Lina raced through the beautiful palace that her mother resided in. She sprinted past the guards who were startled to see her. She fled from the people that tried to remind her of manners.

Lina threw the doors open, surprising the handmaidens waiting inside and outside of the palace. Her mother had just lifted a tea cup to her mouth when Lina trespassed.

"Mama!" Lina was exasperated, out of breath and frantic. "Did you hear? Did you hear?!"

"My dear Lina," the Second Concubine murmured, her voice soft and gentle. She placed the tea cup down, her gaze searching her daughter's face. 

"Big sister has been severely injured!" Lina gasped out, her voice cracking towards the end. "An arrow fatally shot her when she was in the frontlines."

"What?" the Second Concubine cried out, rising from her seat. Due to the speed, she stumbled and nearly fainted, but was caught by the maidservants. Her body had fallen asleep from sitting at length and enjoying her afternoon meal.

"I must go to see her, I must!" Lina begged, rushing to her mother.

Lina grabbed her mother's hands and squeezed them. Lina knew she'd never get permission from her father, the Emperor. He simply treasured her too much. 

Lina thought of his adoration as chains holding her back. He was one of the strictest people in her life, sheltering her from every little thing. Thus, Lina had become too dependent, with no freedom of her own.

"Please let me go to see her, Mama! It will be faster by horse and I will take even more supplies with me," Lina quickly rambled, bouncing on her feet.

Lina was unable to contain her anxiety. She was terrified that something had happened to her beloved older sister. When Lina's half-siblings would bully her, Lina's older sister would scare them away. Now, it was Lina's turn to make the pain go away.

"Did you tell your father about this?" the Second Concubine worriedly asked, clasping her daughter's hands tightly. She was horrified at losing two daughters in one day.

"Yes," Lina responded.

Even so, the Second Concubine was reluctant. "You can't go, you—"

"I've already visited the Imperial Doctor and he has concocted the most powerful blend of medicine. The frontlines are undersupplied and the next carriage goes out tomorrow. It would take at least a week to arrive, but if I go by horse to deliver as much medicine and supplies as I can, then I'd arrive by tomorrow!" Lina begged.

The Second Concubine had no choice but to oblige. She didn't want to put her daughter in harm's way but could lose one if Lina didn't go now. Her heart was heavy. The words of the monk years ago weighed heavily on her mind.

'Your daughter is a sacrificial lamb.' 

The Second Concubine's face grew dim. She held tightly onto her daughter's hands as if she had the strength to hold her back.

"W-well, I don't—"

"The battle has been won by my older sister; she needs me," Lina stated. "Please, you must give me permission and I will leave right this instant."

Lina knew her mother could convince her father to tolerate this decision. By the time he found out, Lina would be long gone. 

The Second Concubine knew if she didn't permit Lina, Lina would still find a way to the frontlines. It'd bring the Second Concubine great reassurance if she was the one to give the blessings. 

"You must come back safely," the Second Concubine pleaded. "Take Altan with you. Please. He will guide you."

Lina couldn't tell her mother that Altan had already left for another expedition, a few moments before the letter arrived. She was in too much of a panicked state to tell the truth.

Lina forced a smile and obediently nodded her head. "I will, Mama!"

- - - - -

Lina wished she had brought Altan. Maybe then, he would've warned her of the horrors.

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After packing her horse with as many supplies as the powerful mare could carry, Lina quickly set out on the journey to find her older sister. 

Lina knew where the military fort was, for this country was her playground. All she had to do was follow the trampled path created by the soldiers in the forest, where their feet alone had carved a road to go down.

The only problem? 

Lina didn't think there would be dead bodies along the way. Lina didn't think this was the road where the battle had taken place. Now, the sun was going to set soon, and she was surrounded by deceased bodies.

"Oh my goodness…" Lina whimpered, her entire body frozen upon her horse.

There was blood and spilled guts everywhere. A strong stench of iron filled the air. Flies buzzed around the human bodies. There was not a single life in sight.

Lina gagged, feeling the contents of her breakfast coming up. The scene was so horrific. There were even bodies piled on the road, which meant Lina would have to walk her horse over them or be forced to take the long way up the mountain and then down again.

"...ter…"

Lina jolted at the sound. Her horse nervously neighed, throwing its head in protest, wanting to flee from this spot. Lina quickly bent down to stroke the horse's mane and glanced for the source of the sound.

"Water…"

Lina heard it again. She looked around and sure enough, there was a soldier with his eyes barely opened. He was slumped against a tree, his vision glazed over, like he was on death's door.

"I have some," Lina blurted out.

Lina hurriedly dismounted her horse, grabbed the water canteen, and quickly rushed to the soldier. She uncapped the large, dried gourd and knelt before the man.

"Please drink carefully," Lina instructed, lifting the gourd to his mouth. 

Lina's hand shook the entire time. Her heart was racing like a wild horse in grass plains. She couldn't even focus on the man in front of her. He was moving his mouth, but the water barely slid down his throat. Instead, he let out a dry cough, his head slumped back.

"Please drink," Lina begged him, holding the canteen to his dried lips. 

"Thank…" he heaved out. "You…"

To Lina's horror, his eyes rolled back. His whole body went limp. Lina froze. She didn't know what to do. The soldier who had sacrificed himself for this country couldn't even sip water before he died.

Lina slumped to the ground, her knees fully giving out. Tears filled her eyes, her throat tightened and her vision became blurry. With two hands, she took the nameplate tucked at his hip. She stared at the name tag for the longest time, hot droplets sliding down her face. 

Foot Soldier, First-Rank.

Lina wept and cried for the lives lost on this road and for the many more lost souls wandering the battlefield. Lina had cried so much that her tears had washed the blood off the wooden name tag.

"Please… rest well," Lina sobbed out, placing her hand over his lifeless eyes. She closed his eyelids and carefully settled him onto the ground. Her fingers tightened on his nameplate. 

For some reason, a force compelled her to take it with her. Lina tucked it into her pocket, hoping this would be evidence to convince her father to stop the war—as if the critical injury of his daughter wasn't enough.

Lina wanted to bury every soldier here, but she didn't have the time. She had to trudge onwards and take medicine to the injured and weak military, who were just about hanging on to life. With weak legs, Lina rose and approached her horse.

The animal let out a soft neigh and nudged its wet nose against Lina's cheek. Lina sniffled and climbed onto her horse with great reluctance.

"Let's go," Lina weakly said. She pressed her thighs tight on the saddle.

Together, Lina and the horse broke off into a fast trot. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the reins back, allowing the horse to jump over the piles of dead bodies. 

A part of Lina was left on that road. Her heart bled for the fallen men she saw. She memorized that path and made sure everyone there would be properly buried when she returned. 

Completely unknown to Lina, this wasn't the first horror she'd experience on the road to her older sister.

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