One

He stared at him. His expression lost. He couldn't even focus on him, even though something deep inside of him wanted to. He didn't...

No, he couldn't.

Despite the fact that he was staring at his own certain death. He didn't move. No muscle in him wanted to. Even his brain muscles didn't want to move. Not because he was scared. He was far from that. Rather he felt more relieved to finally depart from this life. He was tired. More tired of living than of anything.

He was tired of fighting. All that he ever wanted was peace but it seems to be the one thing he couldn't get. Maybe he could get it in his death. He was even tired of his own family. His younger brother. Despite the fact that he was older than him by mere seconds, he despised him. His father did almost his level best to make his life miserable. His mother… he sobbed two or three tears and accepted his fate.

This was how he was going to join his mother. He would gladly do it without any regret from a sword rather than anything. Especially from brain tumour. Or whatever it is that he had.

Hhe stared at the sword that was held in his face. The golden sword that gleamed with his blood.

He closed his eyes.