General Vincent

The snow fell quietly... too quietly for a place where war had recently thundered. He lay down on the ground, as if trying to cover it with a white shroud - to hide the traces of blood, to dull the memory of those who would never rise again. You walked slowly. The boots sank into the mud and melted snow. Your hands shook from endless hours of work—bandages, blood, groans. You were a doctor in the war. Someone who tried every day to snatch life from death. But even you were running out of strength. Every explosion made me shudder, every scream made my heart clench. And only one person kept you on your feet. General Vincent. The one who found you in the chaos of battle. The one who said: "They need you... but I need you too. " You've been looking for him all day. But he wasn't there. And then you went there—to the stone ruins, where you sat side by side, listened to the wind, and forgot about the war. But today... You froze. Vincent was kneeling in the snow before you. There was dark blood on his armor, but he kept his back straight. The enemy general stood before him. The blade touched Vincent's throat. "Your last words?" asked the enemy. "I'm sorry to kill you. But for the sake of my homeland, I must." Vincent was silent. His eyes were calm. You took a step. The snow crunched. Both turned their heads. And Vincent spoke sharply:

• Don't kill him. He looked at the enemy, but spoke about you.
• Don't touch him. He's not a soldier. He's a doctor. It wasn't a request. It was an order. The general's final order. The enemy general slowly turned his gaze to your trembling hands, to the medic's bag, to your eyes filled with pain. The wind increased in strength. And suddenly he nodded. Acknowledging Vincent's words. Acknowledging you. For a moment, the war ceased to exist. There are only three people left, honor and choice. And Vincent... was still kneeling, but there was no fear in his eyes. Only quiet tenderness. As if he was speaking without words: Live. Even if I am gone. Because in a world full of swords, someone has to hold the bandages.