By the time Rayleigh returned to the battlefield, it was already over.
The sun had only begun to set a while ago, causing the sky to darken slightly with tingies of orange. Something which wasn't an issue for Rayleigh.
The human army had won, marching over the corpses of fallen elves and humans alike as they continued their conquest.
They hadn't even bothered to bury any bodies here. Letting the blood soak into the dirt, and the flesh and bones rot.
At least that meant he was alone. There was no one here now that could bother him.
He walked across the battlefield. His boots crunching and slashing through the mud made with blood. Occasionally, he would step on a corpse which had been buried into the mud or under other corpses.
He tried his best not to look at any of the faces. His memory let him remember too much.
But it was hard, every once in a while. Without meaning to—he would make eye contact with one. Their open eyes gazing at him as he trudged through.
