It was a dark and lonely night.
The sky would have been a vision to behold with all the lovely stars, and a bright full moon…. if…. only if, it wasn’t bequeathed with an awning of heavy storm-ridden clouds.
The air was taught… It prophesied a demonic storm.
There I was, beside the lake… kneeling down.
My arm bled…body covered in scars and bruises.
My hand, pressed against my chest as I gasped for breathe.
My eyes squinted as the pain rendered me numb and senseless.
Everything seemed like a blur.
In front of me, my sword had lain for years, waiting for me…. desperate for victory.
It was a blade of Honor, it shone with brilliance, a luster like no other…. except, now, its shine was a gleam of crimson…for…it was now drenched in blood.
I gathered my strength. My body lost its power, but …. I couldn’t have lost my desire to conquer.
I stood up… Limping….my legs quivered.
My hands clinched around the hilt of the blade.
I swayed it, in all the ways known to my kind…. like a sloshed fool … hoping to kill my rival, once and for all.
But…alas, the knights of obscure wisdom shouldn’t dream the dreams of their reign.
Another sword came flashing, piercing through the air. The assailant aimed at my calf and knocked me down.
I was lying there… helpless… grunting curses at the silhouette of my enemy.
Suddenly, the clouds withdrew their rebellion.
The Moon enlightened the world… revealing the face of my opponent.
It was me.
I hated myself.
– Gauri Walecha