Saga of 6Nations Chapter 0

The End

Where to begin? So many burdens, so much that happened in these past months. All the tears, anger, bloodshed, hatred. The love, the indomitable spirit and courage, the undying hope. The tale of a people’s unwavering struggle against a coming darkness that threatened to engulf their land for all eternity. Where to begin? The end would be a good start.

He stood alone on the desolate battlefield, the aftermath of the final, titanic clash of the two. Two and one third sides, he amended. A dry wind blew, sending his worn, travel-stained robes flapping, and bringing with it the song of death. Bloody corpses littered the desolation, with broken, torn banners scattered among them, protruding out, spears stabbed into the weeping sores within the earth. In the distance, vultures fought over choice pieces of carrion, even as the surviving Minions, monstrous, unthinking brutes that they were, greedily pawed through the bodies, pillaging and looting the corpses of trinkets and weapons. Already, Censorship was working its inexorable way through the battlefield. Slowly but surely, the corpses of those first to fall were vanishing one by one, leaving behind naught but bloodstains and some soap suds.

All the mistakes, all the foolish decisions. Too long, too late. The lone figure drooped visibly, bent by the burdens within his mind. Stooping, he wiped the dirt off a mud-crusted shield, revealing the insignia that had previously been obscured. A beautiful, soaring phoenix with wings flared, among the clouds of the skies. The Legion of the Wing fell here. Several yards away, a bright crystal flared once, expending the last vestiges of its energies in a final burst of magic, and was dark. The Sorceresses of Ulutootkia had been routed there, cut down and slaughtered where they stood in the middle of spellcasting..

He sighed, and slowly sank down onto a nearby chariot, shoulders slumping. A raven flapped its wings and squawked indignantly, dispossessed of its perch. It fluttered down onto the ground, and fixed its eyes upon the man with a reproachful stare. Those yellow eyes stared at him, and within them, he imagined he saw depthless wisdom. Perhaps we humans are the most foolish of all animals in this accursed land, he thought bitterly. The raven turned away, distracted, and hopped onto a dead soldier who had obviously watched too much pong, proceeding to peck at his staring, sightless eyes. Ravens know these things.

Smiling cynically, he watched the raven. He was not an old man, yet streaks of white ran through his matted, dirty hair, and his face was heavily lined by worries and burdens. His mouth was permanently twisted into a cynical sneer, his eyes dim with despair. A thick, ropy scar ran down a cheek, extending down his neck and disappearing under the cover of his robes. A hand, stained with ink, slowly reached within the robes, emerging with the tools of his trade. A grubby, dirt-stained ballpoint pen, and a large piece of rolled, ancient parchment. He smiled, a grim, hard smile, and put the pen to paper. Now was as good a time as any. While the memories were still fresh. Where to begin? The End, of course. The End would be a good start.

The Beginning of the End, the days leading to the Fall. The Fall of the 6Nations and the End of the world as we have ever known it to be.

~End~
No more posts about the Saga until after A levels.
PS haha gen I pushed your vid down. =)