10-02-2023, 03:26 AM
“Viva los luchadores,"
“que luchan por la libertad,”
“cantamos las palabras de Vallez,”
“con la indomable voluntad!” [1]
The number of Aredoans remaining in the embattled Huenya was sparse. All but essential embassy staff had for weeks been urged to return home immediately to avoid being caught in the crossfire of the brutal conflict between Huenya and the Golden Blade.
The severity of the situation on the ground, however, didn’t seem to rattle the dozens of Aredoans who were chanting revolutionary-era songs as they travelled across the Huenyan countryside. In fact, it was the reason they were there.
After weeks of liaising with Huenya’s embassy in Vahania without the knowledge of the Aredoan government, 213 Aredoan veterans were finally on the ground in Huenya, bringing with them their years of military experience. Some had served in combat roles, others as medics. Some had Huenyan heritage, others did not. The only common factor was the reason they had volunteered to fight for Huenya: their indomitable belief in freedom and self-determination, not just for Aredoans, but for the world.
Having been handed rifles and backpacks of equipment by a small contingent of Huenyan forces upon arrival, the men and women were then loaded into the back of eight military transport trucks. They were in high spirits as they made the journey towards Chuaztlapoc from the northern port where first they docked in the country. They would first stop in Aloyaxcan, a mid-sized town north of the capital, where they were promised a hearty meal and a good night’s sleep before joining up with Huenyan and international forces in Chuaztlapoc the following day.
The convoy of trucks was now just miles out from Aloyaxcan where they would post up for the night. It seemed like nothing could bring down the high spirits of the fighters as they laughed, sang, and engaged in general camaraderie.
That was until the convoy passed what at first sight appeared to be a normal, unassuming hill. A loud bang was heard out of nowhere. Seconds later, the truck at the head of the convoy ignited with a ferocious, fiery bang.
The later trucks in the pack quickly slammed on their brakes. The volunteers inside hurriedly took up their rifles as they exited their transports, their ears ringing loudly as they attempted to process what had just happened.
It was an ambush. From the hillside, Golden Blade fighters who had obviously got hold of the convoy’s planned route sprung up from their waiting places and opened fire.
Chaos ensued. The Aredoan volunteers and the Huenyan soldiers accompanying them scrambled to take cover. Not all would make it, with some being picked off by their hilltop enemies.
Despite vastly outnumbering their Golden Blade opponents, the fighters would quickly come to realise the desperation of their situation. With their enemies in a superior natural position, they would struggle to counter. They were sitting ducks.
Desperate officers quickly made contact with the Huenyan barracks in Aloyaxcan. The forces stationed there were significantly reduced, with most manpower and resources being poured into the defence of Chuaztlapoc. Nevertheless, those who remained in Aloyaxcan would quickly scramble to come to the aid of the besieged Aredoans.
Holding out until relief could arrive was living hell. Each minute that went by felt like hours. The exchange of gunfire was constant. The barking of orders and screams of injured volunteers only added to the harrowing atmosphere.
Some twenty minutes had passed by the time Huenyan reinforcements arrived. They were much better equipped, swiftly setting up mortars and shelling the Golden Blade positions. It would not be long until gunfire slowed, and then came to a complete stop.
It was replaced by a silence just as chilling, with the scenario replaying in the heads of all the fighters as they recovered, tended to the injured, and collected the dead. The horrors of the Huenyan war had been permanently implanted into the brains of the Aredoan volunteers, just hours after their arrival.
Of the 213 of the volunteers, 32 would not even live to see their first Huenyan sunrise. But as the ancient Aredoan proverb goes, morar ah liberaro as sorar d'Oah otrona. To die for freedom is to live forever. [2] The thirty-two men and women who perished had made the ultimate sacrifice to keep the eternal flame of freedom burning, a sacrifice that would not be forgotten.
[1] The chorus of The Words of Vallez, an Aredoan ballad that became popular during the Great War. It is used to rally people to fight for freedom, inspired by the speeches of the Aredoan revolutionary Xiomara Vallez.
[2] In Aredoan, there are two translations for the verb "to live". When talking about the act of being alive rather than where one resides, the phrase is "sarar d'Oah", literally meaning "to see the sun".
“que luchan por la libertad,”
“cantamos las palabras de Vallez,”
“con la indomable voluntad!” [1]
The number of Aredoans remaining in the embattled Huenya was sparse. All but essential embassy staff had for weeks been urged to return home immediately to avoid being caught in the crossfire of the brutal conflict between Huenya and the Golden Blade.
The severity of the situation on the ground, however, didn’t seem to rattle the dozens of Aredoans who were chanting revolutionary-era songs as they travelled across the Huenyan countryside. In fact, it was the reason they were there.
After weeks of liaising with Huenya’s embassy in Vahania without the knowledge of the Aredoan government, 213 Aredoan veterans were finally on the ground in Huenya, bringing with them their years of military experience. Some had served in combat roles, others as medics. Some had Huenyan heritage, others did not. The only common factor was the reason they had volunteered to fight for Huenya: their indomitable belief in freedom and self-determination, not just for Aredoans, but for the world.
Having been handed rifles and backpacks of equipment by a small contingent of Huenyan forces upon arrival, the men and women were then loaded into the back of eight military transport trucks. They were in high spirits as they made the journey towards Chuaztlapoc from the northern port where first they docked in the country. They would first stop in Aloyaxcan, a mid-sized town north of the capital, where they were promised a hearty meal and a good night’s sleep before joining up with Huenyan and international forces in Chuaztlapoc the following day.
The convoy of trucks was now just miles out from Aloyaxcan where they would post up for the night. It seemed like nothing could bring down the high spirits of the fighters as they laughed, sang, and engaged in general camaraderie.
That was until the convoy passed what at first sight appeared to be a normal, unassuming hill. A loud bang was heard out of nowhere. Seconds later, the truck at the head of the convoy ignited with a ferocious, fiery bang.
The later trucks in the pack quickly slammed on their brakes. The volunteers inside hurriedly took up their rifles as they exited their transports, their ears ringing loudly as they attempted to process what had just happened.
It was an ambush. From the hillside, Golden Blade fighters who had obviously got hold of the convoy’s planned route sprung up from their waiting places and opened fire.
Chaos ensued. The Aredoan volunteers and the Huenyan soldiers accompanying them scrambled to take cover. Not all would make it, with some being picked off by their hilltop enemies.
Despite vastly outnumbering their Golden Blade opponents, the fighters would quickly come to realise the desperation of their situation. With their enemies in a superior natural position, they would struggle to counter. They were sitting ducks.
Desperate officers quickly made contact with the Huenyan barracks in Aloyaxcan. The forces stationed there were significantly reduced, with most manpower and resources being poured into the defence of Chuaztlapoc. Nevertheless, those who remained in Aloyaxcan would quickly scramble to come to the aid of the besieged Aredoans.
Holding out until relief could arrive was living hell. Each minute that went by felt like hours. The exchange of gunfire was constant. The barking of orders and screams of injured volunteers only added to the harrowing atmosphere.
Some twenty minutes had passed by the time Huenyan reinforcements arrived. They were much better equipped, swiftly setting up mortars and shelling the Golden Blade positions. It would not be long until gunfire slowed, and then came to a complete stop.
It was replaced by a silence just as chilling, with the scenario replaying in the heads of all the fighters as they recovered, tended to the injured, and collected the dead. The horrors of the Huenyan war had been permanently implanted into the brains of the Aredoan volunteers, just hours after their arrival.
Of the 213 of the volunteers, 32 would not even live to see their first Huenyan sunrise. But as the ancient Aredoan proverb goes, morar ah liberaro as sorar d'Oah otrona. To die for freedom is to live forever. [2] The thirty-two men and women who perished had made the ultimate sacrifice to keep the eternal flame of freedom burning, a sacrifice that would not be forgotten.
[1] The chorus of The Words of Vallez, an Aredoan ballad that became popular during the Great War. It is used to rally people to fight for freedom, inspired by the speeches of the Aredoan revolutionary Xiomara Vallez.
[2] In Aredoan, there are two translations for the verb "to live". When talking about the act of being alive rather than where one resides, the phrase is "sarar d'Oah", literally meaning "to see the sun".