My chest tensed, and I realised that never before had I felt such disorientating numbness. The time has come. We are off to fight.
The man next to me looked composed, relaxed even. Maybe a few years my senior, face crossed with scars and burns. He must have been there before. He must have clashed with the League in the past. He came back for more.
'Be careful with that rifle, keep drummin’ that finger of yours and the ammo might explode,' he said. I jumped in my seat, startling a few battle-ready companions.
'I'm sorry, it's just—'
'Overwhelming?'
'A bit so, yes.'
I could feel my pulse thundering in my ears, but the man didn't seem to be bothered by my display of anxiety.
‘Think about it like this, kiddo. Every elven head you blast off brings us one step closer to winning this war,’ he said. ‘So make sure to aim for their heads, right between those stupid ears.’ His confidence, while not as contagious as he probably thought it was, felt grounding.
‘Alright. I won't forget why I am here.’ I sincerely doubt I’ve sounded competent at all.
‘That’s the spirit, soldier.’