In a time past, another member of the society was born. We do not remember his original name given by their parents. After all, it doesn’t matter when you make yourself a name. Today, I will tell you about the story of the DarkBlade. His legacy has long been forgotten. But he still lives among us. Seeking its targets to his dark blade.
The day starts with shouts and sheathing of weapons made to spill blood. A life preserved itself with death in those times. Among those people who denied any master or lord were now attacked by a horde of outsiders wanting to dominate that peaceful town. Their numbers were a hundred times the number of inhabitants.
The barricades weren’t even set. The horns of war were crying with hatred and rage. People of the town were praying—some to the gods, some to the death and some to the void. The first wave of the attackers came. They were like animals! How could a human dress like an animal? Fathers screamed seeing their sons fall, and mothers cried seeing their daughters taken and captured. The battle was waging. Another roar of the enemy was heard, but suddenly, it ceased.
War chief has been slain! The hordes were confused. They awaited the commands of their ranked ones. No one commanded. The fear of redemption was starting to infest those wild hearts. The battle was drawing a close. Seeing the opportunity, the townspeople advanced and broke through the enemy lines. The day of defeat suddenly became a day of resistance and victory.
Our hero left the town only to be spotted by a child who had hidden himself under the bush over there. Someone would fear approaching DarkBlade, but the child knew of his saviour. He approached with gratitude. Why would anyone have gratitude for someone’s own motives? DarkBlade had killed the head of the war machines for his own redemption. The child was a shy person. This could be sensed from his walking and his attentive gaze. DarkBlade remembered something familiar.
O’ sir! How could you be so brave and reckless of those monsters?
DarkBlade looked at the blood dripping from his dark blade. He looked to the skies, knowing the answer. But, the answer was alone, unlike the questions. He didn’t speak but knelt before the child. The child was trembling both with fear and adored! Dark Blade gave another shard from his chest. A dark knife! The child looked at the knife as if it was the scythe of Death himself! When Dark Blade saw the fire in the child’s eyes. He stood up and walked down the hill. The child was looking at the shard. Dark Blade was very familiar with the moment. The child would contemplate hours examining this blade, now the child’s blade.
ON SUNSET, Dark Blade was walking with fate. He viewed fate neither as an enemy nor as a friend. Fate was beyond that. Dark Blade’s fate now lies in hope once lost. Through hope, he carved his fate with his dark blade in the void.
Blades are fast! They do what they are supposed to do quickly. They do what most fear, and when they sing through the air, the world is never the same. There are things that will always be here and repeat the grace.
The child at the village was contemplating the shard. Why would a stranger give him such an edgy gift? Didn’t they think that they would be stabbed in the back? The kid was thinking. But the stranger didn’t even look back! What courage?! The kid no longer fears the enemy. The enemy had vanished today thanks to the darkest blade he had ever seen. But they would come back!
Dark Blade was thinking of the kid. He knew what would be happening next. After all, that was how it all started ages ago.
The kid was contemplating. Now, how would he use this weapon for the plains of death? Against all of his fear, he suddenly decided to leave the village. He wanted to know the answer! Why would this hero give him such a gift? He was an ordinary kid. Most in the town called him a coward! The stranger must be mistaken and take this invaluable gift back. He starts running downhill…
Years past.
The war machine approaches yet another town. The demons that exploit the people to such carnage shout their triumph over the siege machines.
Suddenly, they lose the puppets. They are no longer living. The silent but steady flow of blood drowns the demons with themselves.
We do not remember the name of this hero who travelled through centuries and places. But hope is found when we least expect it. Salvation is found near damnation, and life is found near death. Blade of Dark was located close to Blade for Light.
A life spent killing lives to save lives. What a legacy! Let me, the narrator who had seen his clarity, salute the Blade of Light bearing the Blade of Dark.
Initially published for Polyhedron.
Kommentarer