It's a quiet, lonely night. I'm sitting in the middle of my tent by the light of a few candles, thinking. I am a tactician, leading a small group of people in their battles as a succession crisis develops around me. However, I am also an amnesiac. I have no idea what my life was like before I woke up in a bed, being tended to by a young girl from the plains, whom I then supported in fighting off some brigands. All I know is that I have some degree of understanding of battle tactics and strategy. Things begun to escalate from there, and I'm now in charge of over a dozen people. And I've begun cracking under the pressure. It's been noticeable during the early skirmishes, back when it was just the girl and two knights that had come to aid her, but the more people I've had to command, the more pressure I've felt. Making split-second decisions that can be the difference between life and death over and over again... I've hardly gotten any sleep the last few nights, and it's getting worse. Whenever I close my eyes, I see all the close calls we've had these last few battles, and can't stop thinking about what could have been if I had made just one more error.
These last two battles were the worst. In the first one, we were trying to save the sister of a young boy, and I feel like I let it get to me, so I was overeager in trying to dispatch our foes. I ordered the two knights to rush forward, and one of them had a brush with death that could have cost him his life if he hadn't gotten lucky. I managed to keep it together throughout the rest of the battle, but when we had fought the enemies off and yet couldn't find the girl, I blacked out for a while. The thought that I had almost caused one of my comrades to die and we were still too late to save her just completely overwhelmed me. When I came to again about fifteen minutes later, the young boy happily told me that they had managed to save her, so while I didn't ruin everything, it still got to me, and the others could tell. The knight was very eager in telling me that it was his mistake and I shouldn't blame myself for it, and part of me wants to believe him, but another part of me feels like I could have prevented the situation in the first place.
The other battle went without a major mistake on my part, but once we had captured the leader of the enemy force, he committed suicide via poison rather than give us any information. The thought of having such a professional force of assassins after us led to me having a breakdown. I am so way in over my head here, and as far as I can tell, the battles are just going to get harder from here. It's just a matter of time before I slip up and somebody dies, and I can't say with certainty that that won't lead to my mind completely spiraling out of control. I know everybody in this group of ours is supportive of me and grateful for getting us this far, but I can't shake the feeling that I've just kept getting lucky somehow. And once that lucky streak ends... I'll have blood on my hands.
...I can't stay in this tent, I'll go insane. I need to take a walk or something. As I leave my tent and look around the camp, I'm struck by how quiet everything is. It's... good to hear nothing for once. No shouting, no swords clanging against each other, no horses riding around... I don't think I've truly appreciated a simple, quiet night as much as right now. Then again, I can't remember anything before about two weeks ago, so I'm not exactly working with a lot of history here. No, I can't think about that right now. Just... try to take deep breaths. As I deeply breathe in and out, putting as much of my lungs into each breath as I can, I suddenly hear some rustling from a nearby bush, which immediately sends me into a panic again, and I freeze up. However, as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can tell that it was simply a squirrel, moving around in the brush.
Gods, I really am cracking up. I'm panicking because of a squirrel. With a heavy sigh, I look up to the stars. They really are beautiful. All those lights, floating out there in the night sky, representing untold depths of this world we live in. On a cosmic scale, I really don't matter at all. But I can't use that as comfort. There is no way I can just write off the chance of one of my comrades dying as insignificant in the cosmic sense, and I'm sure the others would call me insane if I did. Maybe... I'll just shove those feelings deep down inside, keep them bottled up. It should be fine, right? ...no, there's no way I can do that either, I've already blacked out and had a breakdown over these feelings, if I tried to keep them bottled up, they'd just burst out before I knew it. And yet, I don't feel comfortable truly opening up to anyone in our group. They all are putting their life on the line here and have so many troubles of their own... burdening them with mine would just be making things worse, I'm sure. I'm stuck.
And as I stand there, staring at the stars and stewing in my own misery, I can hear a rustling again, this time behind me. It sounds like it's coming from a tent, but there's no way anyone is awake at this point, right? Must be another squirrel or something. But then, I hear a voice.
"...${Tactician's name?}? You're still awake?"
I turn around and see a young man with long blond hair looking out of his tent. It's Lucius, the monk that joined our group recently. Due to my recent mental troubles, I haven't been able to spend time with him like I have with the people that joined our group earlier, and I absolutely chastise myself for that—the least I can do if I'm going to command these people in battle is get to know them a bit better. I sigh once more. "Yeah... I'm having a bad night." I say, shrugging as if wanting to dismiss his worries. But he doesn't seem satisfied by that, and he walks out of his tent, slowly walking up next to me.
"A sleepless night... I've had more than my fair share of them, and every day I'm thankful that I'm no longer at that orphanage and can rest better now." he replies, gazing up at the stars as well.
I look back up at the sky alongside him. "You grew up in an orphanage?" I ask, figuring that I might as well start getting to know him now that I'm here with him.
The two of us cast glances at each other for a moment. "Yes. I have had many experiences there that haunt me to this day... but I do not wish to burden you with my past. For you have burdens of your own, do you not?"
"...it's nothing." I say, waving my hand in a dismissive motion.
But he doesn't seem deterred by this at all, and I can see the worry in his expression grow stronger. "I've spoken with the others about you. They say you're a dutiful tactician that always strives to keep everybody safe... but that there seems to be a dark cloud over your soul. I've heard that some of them have tried to get you to open up, but to no avail. Would... would you grant me a favor?" he asks. I nod, and he continues. "Look at me." is all he says.
I cannot understand what it is he seeks to achieve with this, but I figure there is no reason to deny him, so I turn to look at him—not just a glance, but a prolonged look. And as I look into his eyes, I feel... strangely at ease. Without any other words, those clear blue eyes speak to me in a way I hadn't thought possible before. The others have indeed asked me to open up before, but not like this.
Slowly, he takes my hand in his, holding it tightly. "You... you don't have to talk to me, ${Tactician's name?}. But I can feel great turmoil within you. And I know that can tear you apart. So if maybe not for my sake... but for the others' sake. Let me help you, ${Tactician's name?}."
The way he speaks is breaking down my defenses. The gentle look in his eyes, his soft voice, the firm, yet caring grip of his hand around mine... I feel like I can trust him with anything. And then, he says something that shatters any sort of idea of keeping anything hidden from him. "I know what you're struggling with. As our tactician, you're scared of making a mistake that leads to one of the others dying. And... I just want to say that there are some things in life we cannot control. If you genuinely believe in your tactics... no one will blame you for anything. I promise you, ${Tactician's name?}... we believe in you."
And suddenly, all my feelings come bursting out like a volcano just erupted inside of me, and