the inner complexity of it all, far outweighs that of the vacant exterior of his body, as he stares point blank into emptyness. souls streamed past him like a gentle breeze as he tries hard to contemplate what is to happen every second later. he stepped out into the opening, trying hard to visualize a Sun that had been hiding for weeks and months, as he pulled his cloak tighter to his body to minimize the cold, which would have killed a normal human being long ago. all but at the same time, dark clouds started to gather along with a huge bang that could be heard some distance away, sending flocks of birds away from the vicinity that the sound originated from..
he took on an alert stance, awaiting his enemy, one hand gripped tightly over the handle of his sword, the sword that his father had passed on to him as a family heirloom. struggling to remain calm in the piercing winter wind, another blast, only to have frightened animals scurrying all over the place, and this time, the source indeed sounded much nearer. nervousness started to set in, as if falling into a well of unfathomable depth, and he braced himself for an attack that would all but kill him.
after all, the thing that the enemy was looking for was this sword, he thought was he looked down at the weapon, something that was passed down from generations of heros, something that he knew held trememdous powers even the most evil of socerers would be terrified of. and suddenly the rustling of leaves behind him
it was too late, as a paralysing blow to his back forced him onto his knees, perspiration that was trickling down his face, dripping down onto the damp grass. he looked up at his enemy, whose face was obscured by a hood that was enough to cover a full-grown jackfruit.
who is this guy? without any much hesitation, he flung his sword at full strength aimlessly, only to find that his attempt was futile, as his hooded opponent seemed to have teleported ten metres away from him. all he could make out of was that the enemy appeared to be chanting something, and before he knew it, a bright blue beam flew out of his palm, hitting him straight in the chest, blasting him hard against a tree several tens of metres behind him. in his last few seconds of consciousness, a blurred vision of the enemy picking up the sword that was knocked out of his grasp moments before, and disappearing into the darkness of the woods. that was the last he could remember.
I'm sorry, dad.
