The dark clouds began to manifest itself. It was hungry and angry and swallowed
the deep blue sky in a fit of anger. There was nothing to appease the threshold of
the nature of the god or the wrath of the willful nature.
The harbinger of death walks with everything it touches turned pale. Bright red roses
drained out their vigor, a pale yellow in pathetic sight. It was like the master of dead
emanating darkness, draining away of the life of whatever on its way.
The vultures were flocking around for the spoils of the war. The rods were beating against
the drum out of controllable excitement in a bid to raise the morale of the troop.
Sir Lancelot gave the signal; the troops marched in orderly fashion and surrounded the church.
Four soldiers stormed the church door with a log.
Inside, the children were huddling together around Sister Cygnus. They were trapped
like terrified mice in a rat hole while seeing the cat’s paw trying to reach them and sink
it’s claw on them. The loud shout of the soldiers and quaking of the boots sent shivers
up the spine, a cold feeling that they never encountered before.
What will the soldiers do with them? The boys tried to put up a brave front as they
struggled to come up with some stories to reassure the younger ones. The bolts
and locks screeched and grunt as they resisted the malevolent force against them.
The aura of helpless had let some of the girls weltering their tears on their cheeks.
What should be a cheerful smile was replace with a sorrowful look with much chagrin.
War brings much destruction, reduce happiness into sadness, to snatch something
back just for the sake of honor, how many soldiers have been mislead into false glory
or pride for the very sake of the few man whose words can control the fate of the world.
Just what is the lives of the common people to them?
One of the boy rose up, his muscles stopped trembling. “Just who are these guys trying
to erode the peace of our everyday lives, What gives them the right to threw a rock and
smash our sandcastles that we work hard hand in hand to build together in harmony.”
His golden yellow hair was standing out in the surrounding. Here was a young man,
enough of his fear, emboldened by his fuel of unjustness and outrage, his shoulder
jumped with excitement. He gritted his teeth and he thought of being a knight and
try to protect his friends and drive those soldiers away. His name was Ares.
Ares stood tall and suddenly he was a giant in the church. The young girls widened
their eyes in surprise and stopped their incessant crying.
Here was this little big brother who was much a joker, teasing them many times.
Yet, they could tell Ares was serious this time.
It wasn’t any joke.
It wasn’t any fooling around.
It was like a war.
With Ares’ towering presence, the boys felt inspired.
The bolts gave its final shout of rest and it buried itself into the carpet for the time.
The furniture that was used for barricade was going to give way soon.
Ares shouted, “ Come, we would protect the church with all our lives.”,
as he raised a broom as a fig of speech.
The door ricocheted off and landed right in front of the children, They retreated a few step
out of instinct, found themselves cornered in the hallway with packs of soldiers
pointing nasty, mean looking weapons with sardonic smiles.
Wearing masks on their faces, the soldiers harshly kicked one of the girls for whimpering loudly.
“Shut up! ”, growled the soldier as he moved his spear to the neck of the girl.
The metal part was icy cold and eager to taste some blood.
Burning from the inside with the vessels dilating as blood gushed through the bloodstream,
he was pumped for action. A hand gripped him tightly behind the back and pushed Ares backward.
Sporting silver hair, the eye patch man move with a speed of lightning as all they saw was the gushing
of blood from the soldiers who was threatening their friend.
One by one, they dropped like a domino upset.
Sir Lancelot motioned his hand. Understanding the signals, all the troops
encircled their enemies. Stepping forward and drawing his sword, He pointed
the sword at the silver haired man and shouted, " What say you?"
As the silver haired man strode forward and clash his blade against Sir Lancelot's
sword, sending a shockwave which the watchers retreated back and the circle widened.
"I will fight you to death. Do not involve the innocents."
Sister Cygnus with the children were accompanied by the string of soldiers who led
them to a corner and guard them from moving away from even one inch off the
new designed area for them.
Sir Lancelot let fly with a quickly flurry of strike, each with a melody for every exchange
with the blade of the opponent. The soldiers were mesmerizing with the swordplay by
both fighters in the win, with no apparent result to know the victor.
Gnashing his teeth, Sir Lancelot threw his sword at his opponent while dodging
the ominous on coming slash by the silver haired intruder. Distracted by a moment
due to the shining light which his sword reflected on him, Sir Lancelot launched himself
forward and drove his sword as he landed on the ground.
A deep blot of red stained the clothes of the silver haired guy. Gritting his teeth as he
felt the impact, he dropped his blade, whizzing as he used a short sword stabbed at
Sir Lancelot left arm.
In his moment of victory, Sir Lancelot forgotten his enemy was still alive. Retracing the
sword and he ducked and pressed his wounds.
" Darn that silver hair."
" Stupid old geezer,", The silver hair guy gave a grunt, panting heavily.
It was pretty obvious that one of them was going to die. It's no longer
a matter of how but a matter of who.