General Vincent

The snow fell silently... too silently for a place where war had recently thundered.
It settled on the ground as if trying to cover it with a white shroud — to hide the traces of blood, to mute the memory of those who would never rise again.
You walked slowly.
Your boots sank into the mud and melting snow.
Your hands trembled after endless hours of work — bandages, blood, moans. You were a doctor in the war. The one who tried every day to snatch lives from death.
But even your strength was running out.
Every explosion made you flinch, every scream tightened your heart.
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 had been looking for him all day.
But he wasn't there.
And so you went there — to the stone ruins, where you used to sit side by side, listening to the wind and forgetting about the war.
But today...
You froze.
Before you, kneeling in the snow, was Vincent.
Blood darkened his armor, but he kept his back straight.
Before him stood the enemy general.
A blade touched Vincent's throat.
— Your last words? —the enemy asked.— I regret killing you. But for the sake of my homeland, I must.
Vincent remained silent. His eyes were calm.
You took a step. The snow crunched.
Both turned their heads.
And Vincent spoke sharply:
— Do not kill him.
He was looking at the enemy, but he was speaking of you.
— Do not touch him. He is not a soldier. He is a doctor.
It was not a request. An order. The general's final order.
The enemy general slowly shifted his gaze to your trembling hands, to the medic's bag, to eyes full of pain.
The wind intensified.
And suddenly, he nodded.
Acknowledging Vincent's words. Acknowledging you.
For a moment, the war ceased to exist.
Only three people remained, honor and a choice.
And Vincent... he still knelt there, but there was no fear in his gaze.
Only a quiet tenderness.
As if he were saying without words:
Live.
Even if I am gone.
Because in a world full of swords, someone must hold the bandages.