A long time ago...

George Washington looked upon the militia men in sadness. Some were dead, and many were wounded. He made his way through the bloodied field, giving help where he could, although there wasn't much he could do. Men...little more than farmers...few older than twenty...dead. Washington's heart cried out at the injustice of it all. The tall delegate came across a younger man who couldn't be more than fifteen, with dimmed blue eyes and dirty blond hair caked to his forehead. Despite his own wound, a shredded and bloodied splotch in his torso, he was comforting the person leaning against a tree next to him. "You'll be fine, I promise!" He broke off to cough.

The militiaman grimaced as he moved his wounded shoulder. "If they can dig out the ball. Otherwise I'll lose my arm." He looked over the younger one. "Why are you comforting me? You're the one who looks like he's dying!"

The younger boy shrugged, wincing at the sudden movement. "Ow. Don't be a pessimist. This isn't the worst thing that's happened to me-oh!" He saw Washington and beckoned at him, "Medic! This man needs some field surgery and bandages!"

Washington approached the pair, and surveyed the man's shoulder wound. "We should be able to get this out fine. It didn't go too deep, head over to the doctor's tent." The man made a labored grunt and shuffled off. Washington looked back to the wounded boy and shook his head. "You are much to young for this, you know that right?"

The boy huffed, surprisingly energetic for someone in his situation. "I'm older than I look! And these guys needed help. I couldn't just stand by and watch!"

Washington knelt down to the boy's level. "What's your name, son?"

The blond hesitated. "It's-erm...Alfred, sir." He moved his hand to allow Washington to see the wound.

Washington frowned. "And you say you've been through worse?"

Alfred gave a hint of a knowing smile. "Yeah. Don't worry, this doesn't hurt to bad compared to that one time..." He trailed off, staring off into the middle distance. The boy shook his head and said, "I thank you for coming to see me, but shouldn't you be helping someone who needs it?"

Washington looked at him disbelievingly. "You're dying. I can't think of anything that is more urgent."

Alfred craned his neck to look around. "Well...if I'm dying, as you say, then shouldn't you help that guy over there with the missing fingers? He looks like he'll live."

Washington shook his head again. "Are you sure? I admire your courage, but quite frankly this is crossing the line into ridiculous."

The boy gestured with his thumb. "Don't waste your time on me!"

The delegate gave a deep regretful sigh and stood up. "Well then, if you insist...may God be with you young man." He left to attend others.

Later On

The report wasn't good. Most of the militia was gone. Over half were dead, and the many were wounded. 'I wonder if that Alfred boy is among the dead...' Washington thought idly, 'They die so young these days...' The delegate set aside the report, he would take it to the next congressional meeting. Washington stepped out of his tent and took in the mostly empty field. The bodies have been taken away to their respective families, seeing as how they were all local men. Blood was still caked on the ground, which gave the area a sickly copper smell. How much farther would things go before peace? How many more would die?

An stout older man with a limp approached, the former militia's leader. "How long do you intend to stay, sir?"

Washington looked around. "Not much longer..." An idea came upon him. "Excuse me, but do you know of a young man named Alfred?"

The man's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes! The Jones boy. So cheerful...what about him?"

The taller man clasped his hands in front of him casually. "What's the last that you heard of him?"

The militia leader gave a small smile. "He's fine. I sent him home not that long ago. Don't worry, this wasn't his first battle. There wasn't a scratch on him."

Washington was careful to not show any surprise. "Oh? Lucky indeed."

The man made a noncommittal noise and walked off. Washington caught a slight shake of his head and a muttering, "No, not lucky. Not lucky at all."

Alright. Next chapter is done! I'll keep trying to update regularly, but I have some things I'm taking care of and it interferes with my writing a little bit.

Thanks for the attention this story has gotten so far! I'm glad to see that I'm not completely alone in the world. ;)

Review, s'il vous plait? ^J^