The Messenger, part 1
Running comes easy to me. At least it used to be like that. Part of being a soldier is running circles in full body armor around the walls of the city, your trusty weapon and shield by your side. But for me it wasn’t simply part of the training; it was the best part. I like the adrenaline rush, the resistance that my legs give as I push them more and more, my heart pumping at ever faster rate, my lungs expanding to the limits. And I can outrun my peers easily, I’m the fastest in the entire regiment. And that’s the main reason why I am in the current situation. Running not only for mine, but for the lives of thousands. I am running for ten miles already, unarmored, barefoot. Ten miles is a milestone, the mark when my body no longer cares it’s running, and just surrenders to my will. I can cover three times that, and more. And I had done it, many times. The only obstacle can be boredom. I’ve found that once my mind wins the battle against the rebellious organs, it reverts to the triv...