The After -End 15

He perceived the boy was already dead. His anger became fully unleashed, he fought as if he was possessed with a killing demon. He slashed the man in several places and made a ghastly looking cut on the same arm that once had an ugly scar. The archer fell to the ground witting in pain and anguish. The second archer rushed down to him darting his arrows at him, one of which pierced his right thigh. He screamed in pain as he removed the arrow forcefully from his thigh. He had no time to attend to the wound as he fought off the man by firstly, breaking his wooden bow with his sword. The archer pulled out a long ridge Falcon sword from his back. It was big and the tip of the blade was pointed. The sword was magnificently brutal. The archer swung his sword at him and he docked to the side swinging his sword back at him as he moved, it pierced his right hand. The cut was deep, he was so shocked that the sword dropped from his hand. The archer held the cut with his hand groaning in pain. He brought down the swords and split his head. It fell to the ground rolling like a ball. His anger became sedated.

As he continued through the camp, gone was the fear, he once had. He continued to search for the shrouded figure and the Grand master himself. On the other side of the battleground, a shrouded figure on a black horse dressed in a large black garb stood afar off, watching on as people continued to fight. The shrouded figure laughed softly and continued through the field.

As he continued to search for the figure, he began to get a prickly feeling at the back of his neck. Suddenly, he was knocked off with a blow and he tumbled over and experiencing a little ring in his ear. The sword dropped to the floor. The sword rose up in the air and landed on the shrouded figures hand. Composing himself, he rolled over on the ground and stood on his feet setting a stance.

It's him, He thought to himself.

Gone was the surprising state he was in, his eyes blared with hate and revenge. He looked around and found another sword. They fought stroke for stroke, their swords clashed together. They pushed their weight on each other. They withdrew their swords and fought again. It's like they had mastered each other's move. They went on and on. The black habits they wore didn't help with their movement. Swiftly, he slashed the wrist of the shrouded figure through his garb and the action knocked out the sword from his hands. The sword fell dipped to the dirt. With no other weapon to fight, the shrouded figure hurled himself on him. The push knocked him off his feet and he fell to the ground, the tight hold on his sword was loosed. The shrouded figure started to hit him on the face, he guarded his face with his elbows. He pulled his strength and rolled over him instead. He gave back his own set of

punches. The hood covering the shrouded figure was pulled back revealing his face.

He became shocked, his hands held in a fist stood in mid-air. The shrouded man was his replica, he was

confused.

What's going on? His forehead folded into lines.

Out of the blue, the man with his face chuckled and laughed out loud. The laughter began to scorn him.

The shock cleared off and hatred replaced it.

"You made me kill my father, you caused everything!" He shouted at him.

Unconsciously, he became unstable, gross insanity seeped into his mind. His face changed to a fierce stare. He resumed his act and continued to punch blindly on his face and chest. The more he punched, the louder the mocked laughter became. He wasn't hearing the laughter with his ears anymore but with his mind. Feeling drained, he started to feel conscious of his surrounding. Everywhere was covered in a grey mystic fog. He noticed people falling dead to the ground as soon as the fog got to them. People were still fighting. They were oblivious to the mist that was seeping through the battlefield.

Suddenly, the noises stopped, everyone, stood transfixed. The field was silent, a feathered arrow stayed still in the air even the Hungry stiff-necked vultures that dominated the now orange sky waiting to scavenge the stiffs were static.

What's happening? He looked around him, nobody moved.

Time has stopped? Time has stopped!. He grabbed his head getting more freaked out.

"What does this mean? What should I do?" He searched frantically, he could barely see.

Then he heard footsteps, heavy ones. It felt like beating drums coming towards him. He glanced up, to see another shrouded figure approaching. He stood to his feet and stepped forward ready for another combat. The shrouded figure rode on a red-eyed dark stallion whose nose released puffy steam and a tiny-eyed crooked owl with a broad head and hairless neck covered in grey feathers, it stood on his left cloaked shoulder of the shrouded figure. The person's face was hidden behind a black polished iron mask, his head was covered with dark his hood. All of a sudden, the strange bird on his shoulder made a deep screeching sound and darted away in haste and disappeared into the rising grey mist that had covered the battlefield. Then, the black stallion stopped immediately and the shrouded figure got down from the horse. As he stood on the ground the stallion materialized into a dark mist and moved away from the shrouded figure and came towards him, the shrouded figure struck the musky air with his hands. Succinctly, the dark mist disappeared.

"Fighting the way you did now, might have made a lot of difference, but now you only ended up killing yourself". The shrouded figure said.

He glanced back to the body he had stabbed and it had vanished.

"Do you know how much faith your family placed on you?"

"You failed to guide and protect the ones you claimed to love, even those that chose to protect you"

"You never rendered help or assistance to anyone, not even your childhood friend or the baby you saw by the bush" The shrouded figure spoke in anger.

"You're one big selfish self-centered fool. Can't you do something different for once?"

"Everyone of them fought with their lives to protect those they love, you weak carnally minded fool".