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A short fantasy by Kevin A.M. Lewis (user:iloveflash)

Another one of my first posts on the original Writers' Lounge. This one is a short fantasy scene that I pulled completely out of thin air. (Hence the title: Inspired Sword.) As with all my other stories, I'm presenting it in its original, unedited form. Just look at all those adjectives in need of deletion!

Dunno why I wrote it in present tense. Nowadays I only write outlines in present tense, then convert them to past tense when fleshing them out into narratives. Also, does that knight remind anyone else of Garland from Final Fantasy?

Okay, shutting up now.

Inspired SwordEdit

It was a cloudy day. The golden sun struggled to make its appearance through the dark clouds, but couldn't. Only tiny wisps of light, so golden they were orange. The clouds did not want the sun to witness what had happened below.

On the earth, and army of men lay dead. Swords and spears were held fast in their grip, a testament to their undying courage. One man, who had but ten seconds to live, preached the words of God.

"...and shall we, who bear...thy...image--" he catches his breath, he knows he is dead, "--be forever...in...spirit..." The other living men scream for him to hold his tongue, but...

A great knight stands tall on this field of dead souls. His blade is covered in royal blood, his shield stained with human flesh. He stands tall and proud atop the body of a dead king. His helmet is well-fastened. His grieves are secure. Victory.

He looks over the battlefield and is proud of his work. All of his training and conspiring has paid off at last. A new age has come. He witnesses the cowards fleeing across the horizon and cannot help smirking beneath his steel. They will all come running back, for even as men of war, they are weak with the ways of the world. But the smirk disappears a moment later, for a foe has been spotted. A warrior, surely not a man, running swiftly through the battlefield. He is careful to avoid the dead bodies and moves nimbly between them. As he draws nearer to the marvelous knight, he looks up at his prize beneath a shining helmet.

The knight looks to his left and sees Neptune, his massive two-handed sword, buried deep in the ground. He sticks the king's blade into the ground and draws Neptune, raises it up to the golden rays and concludes that it is well. Then he swings it down. The boy, now immediately before him, dodges it gracefully and thrusts upwards at the knight, who raises his shield and guards the attack.

"You are swift, young one," he says unto the boy. "Who has taught you such speed?"

"My father, the king!" the boy replies with a bold voice. The knight pushes him back and he is thrown off his guard. In that brief moment, the monster spares him with a look of indifference, allowing him to recover his balance. The boy does so and goes into stance, just as his father had taught him.

"Come with me. Come with me, and I shall spare you," lies the knight.

"In your dreams, you cur!" The boy lunges again and the knight raises his gaurd, but it is a trick; the boy moves behind the knight and aims true to his heart. The knight senses this and moves his shield to his rear, deflecting the adversary again. In the brief clang that is heard, the knight swings his blade around him. It rests on the boy's neck as he comprehends what has happened.

"Come with me," repeats the knight. "and I shall spare you and make place for you in my castle, and perhaps we shall dine together." The boy points his blade at the knight's heart and takes off his helmet. A handsome prince indeed, black hair flowing down to his shoulders and grey eyes staring into the demon's soul. The sun appears at last, yearning to see its children. The rays shine true like rays of hope and the boy says:

"We shall never dine until you offer your heart! If only my blade may dine with your soul!!"

His sword glinting with undying spirit, the knight stares down to behold the entirety of the kingdom. He knows that his death is nigh.

The moment shatters as the boy strikes again. The knight leaps backwards into the sky and the boy pursues with his incredulous speed. After sheathing his sword, he draws a bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver, and as he runs through the field dodging the dead bodies, he fires arrow after arrow at their fleeting target. They miss by inches and milimeters and return to the earth, waiting to be reused just seconds later as the boy runs past and draws them from the ground. The sun watches fearfully with wide eyes.

The knight lands atop the body of a dead horse and several arrows fly toward him. He ducks, avoiding the first arrow, leaps over the second arrow, and shields against the third and fourth. When he emerges from behind his shield, a blade soars toward his head and he dodges it just so. He catches the prince by his leg, but the boy spins back and lunges at the knight's neck. The knight spins around to successfully guard with his shield and the boy sneaks onto his shoulder. Confused, the knight turns this way and that, until boy leaps off and throws his blade upside-down at the knight. It pierces through and the behemoth staggers back.

The prince rolls to his feet and faces his giant adversary, struggling with the blade in his neck. The knight pulls his helmet off and the face of a demented human is revealed to the world. It is covered in scars, eyes popping out of their sockets as tears of blood trickle down. The boy wastes no time and draws his bow and arrow and takes aim at those tears.

"Farewell," he says, and his arrow pierces through the knight's head and renders him dead.

The sun disappears, its heart full of woe, and the clouds begin to weep.

The End

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