Two men, war weary yet still resolute in their ideals, battle on the field of patriotic duty. Sword and axe clang, shields bash, and the flow of slash and parry carry through the air. Both men, drenched in sweat, battled across the country, their armies facing off countless times. After months of battle and countless debates of nothing but denouncing the other, everything comes down to one day; one final battlefield.
One man, unorthodox in his manner and approach, feels he is the answer to his kingdom's needs. He girds himself inside armor of righteous indignation over the coals his people have been dragged over. His sword, the mythical and long thought lost blade, Change, gleams with his ideals. He swings with grace and his stance is one of offensive defensiveness, ready to strike when the time is right.
The other man was born in another age, his armor and ideals mirroring his upbringing and history. He swings his mighty battle axe with barbaric rage, calling on the war-like fury of his ancestors. He hides behind the battle-scarred shield Mavrick, his stance set for aggressive offense, ready to strike and keep his enemies, perhaps friends as well, off balance and ready to be defeated.
The men do battle even as I scribe their tale here. They stand drenched, battered, and beaten, both ready and willing to do what they need to win. I cannot speak to which warrior will win, though my support has been cast for one and in the teeth of the other. The future of our kingdom rests on this fateful day, the future of ourselves and our children as well. Problems wait for the victor of the bloody battle, but whoever wins will step from the fire tempered from the heat of battle, hopefully ready to assume command and lead us back from the edge of darkness.
1 comment:
This one is pretty interesting. I believe the "I" could be from a king's point of view as he watches this battle between the two. I'd like to see this into a longer short story as well. It makes me think of King Arthur times.
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