The enemy

He had to stay strong. A few punches, more slaps should not had been enough to send him to such doom. He had to live on, there were too many waiting for his return.

"General," his eyes had already been swollen from the amount of punches his eyes especially had to take.

"I guess I should say your high reputation wasn't grasped from dry waters." Amongst his swollen eyes, he could slightly make out a figure of a tall dark lad. He didn't seem older than twenty. By his use of tongue and attitude, it seemed everything had been fed to him with a golden spoon.

He was only trying to stand his ground and show his hold on his territory.

"I wish I would say the same about you," the general had finally spat, only to taste the size of a heavy metal on the side of his cheek.

"You will tell us of where the Great Spirit remains," the tall lad spat after tasting the bitter insults of the general.

"Just so you can let him rule the lands of our people? Keep dreaming!" His shoulder locks had been grasped by the young boy. With too much disrespect and venom.

"You should know," he snickered.

"Even if you die on our hands today, we can still invade you kingdom and awake him," he explained thoroughly and politely, with too much amusement lasing his voice.

"However, you, showing the remains doesn't only save your clan from utter annihilation. But your whole kingdom as well."

The general only laughed as his locks dropped in front of his face, hiding his damaged face full of bruises.

"You are a child bore from the origins of our ancestors. We, are the Bantu people. We swore to be buried along the bones of the Great Spirit," he grinded his teeth as he showed his determination to go against death and fight until his very last breath.

"Many more have the same veins as I carry. We speak the same breath and beat with the same heart."

He had already seen his fate laid infront of him. Life and death were both destined, and destiny he would never run away from. And so with his last breath, taking all of his will, he stood by his stance, "we will fight, until you kill the very last one of us, we will fight."

"Kill him, kill him now young lord," with a very angry gaze, the Lord had taken the nearest blade, and had the generals head rolling off the floor.

"Send the General's head to the Queen's Kraal. If it is war they seek, then war they will receive." The young Lord roared as he threw the blade away only to be quick on his feet to take out his anger some where else.

Upon his tiny dark bundle, a young lad slept helplessly on his bed. The sun had been set to it's highest during the day. Sending the harshest rays to earth. it was extremely hot.

Lazily, without a shirt on top, his mind kept racing back to the incident of the day. Until his mind was disrupted by a thundering voice that sent waves over his head.

"Great uncle," he quickly sat up from shock. How had his uncle got in the room without him noticing?

"How long have you been inside?" the young lad asked pure confusion and admiration lacing his eyes.

"long enough to know something is troubling you," the uncle told him, with a slight sympathetic smile on his face.

He thought twice if he should tell his uncle about his troubles. He did not wish to trouble him any further. He was already busy enough with the worldly affairs and the war on coming.

However, when he found the kind gaze of his uncle lay on his cold gaze. He shuddered under his warmth and found himself crying out all his worries to him.

"I'm failing uncle. the general-"

his uncle cut him off before he could say another word. "Lwazi, the general was a man in his fifty's, he has seen, learnt and hold on to too many things dear to him, to be scared off by death. You were bound to fail," he explained to him sympathetically. Lwazi had always hated to fail, especially under his strict grandfather's gaze.

He was on told to hate the Crystal Kingdom. From the day he had learnt to understand a few words and say a few back. He had to hate them. However, he couldn't bring himself to, something about them was special, maybe because of his background that had a slight connection with them, or because of the love they had for each other.

"There's something I noticed about the Great General, uncle," he suddenly said, curiosity lacing his eyes. "you call him the great General, yet you killed him without respect for his body," his uncle thought out loud.

"I do not only respect him. I admire him. I feel that there would have been a lot to learn from the old men," he said truthfully and sympathetically.

"but uncle, The general had hope in his people. It was as if going after his kingdom was child's play for me. What if I fail" The Great Uncle was the only person Lwazi could be most vulnerable with. Saying these doubts racing in his mind did not quite make the big feel as though he was weak, or would be questioned. He felt safe.

"In that very impossible scenario, if you do happen to fail, I'll stand by you along the way. I promised your-"

The man in his middle age, who'd lived half of his lifetime was cut mid sentence by the twenty three year old.

"uncle, please don't." he sighed as if he was so drained, and maybe sad. His breath was filled with coldness, emptiness and lacked life that carried his spirit.

"stop blinding my grey sight with illusions of the rainbow. If she had truly loved me, she would never have gone," he explained tiredly.

How many in such a huge world had such a fate as sad and lone as his. In this world, was his only mission to cause disruption and kill? What more was there to him other than his royal title of the only grandchild of the imperial family. The cold and dark lone wolf that was feared and respected by many. What more there was?