End times mood

The two warriors faced each other in silence.
One had short, black hair and was wearing a white shirt that he had tucked carelessly into his white trousers. He wore a kind of scarf that covered his face up to his nose and which was supposed to protect him from the sand blowing around in the increasing breeze. The scarf was also white.
His counterpart was the exact opposite. He had a little more than shoulder-length white hair and was wrapped in a black coat. He had pulled his hood low over his forehead so that half of his face was in shadow. Still, you couldn't miss his piercing, blood-red eyes - the only thing he had in common with the black-haired one. A slight smile played on his lips. This young man's name - or should he be called a boy? He looked barely older than 19 - was Kostya. The black-haired one opposite him was called Zebulun.The wind got stronger. Heavy, dark clouds gathered on the horizon. Which was quite unusual in this area, because the two were in the middle of a huge desert.
It would rain soon. Or, more likely, a thunderstorm. Already there was a palpable tension in the air.
Or did this tension originate from the two warriors? They were still staring at each other motionless, the white-haired Kostja with a mocking and expectant smile on his lips, the tall Sebulon with a serious, almost threatening, but also very watchful look. Up close, the two looked as if they were good and bad, or light and dark, the two sides of a single coin - one dressed entirely in white, the other in black.
But no, these terms were probably alien to both of them. They were neither good nor bad. Two timeless beings who could not exist without, not together. How long had their struggle been going on?Sure, they weren't fighting right now. But why not? Was it a temporary truce - or the calm before the next storm?
More likely the latter.
Clouds moved in front of the sun, leaving behind an ominous twilight. The temperature suddenly dropped several degrees. In the distance the first bluish lightning flashed.
Kostja's smile grew wider, more greedy. He had waited a long time. But on what? Zebulun tensed too, recognized the moment for who he was: a new beginning. The beginning of a new battle, the beginning of a new battle, the end uncertain but longed for. An endless battle, solely between these two timeless beings.
Both Kostya and Zebulun hated bloodshed, but they lived to fight. That made them what they were: opponents ... mortal enemies ... soul mates. Two beings of the same kind, caught in the eternal struggle against and with one another.
The gusts of wind whirled up the sand, and the harbinger of the approaching storm soon took on the dimensions of a small sandstorm.But that didn't bother the two competitors. Yes, they didn't even seem to really notice.
Kostya reached into his cloak, felt on his left side for the wooden scabbard and came out again with a thin blade that was sharpened on both sides. The handle of this Damascus sword was jet black. At the end of it was a blood-red ruby, in which an untamed power slept. Zebulun made no move to move and also to draw a weapon, but the white-haired man knew that the person opposite was already hiding a dagger-like, small, single-sided blade in his left palm.
As always.
Yes ... the fight would be like everyone else before, and yet different. Two equal opponents who took advantage of each other's mistakes to their own advantage and still couldn't win.
Perhaps they should put an end to this pointless and incessant argument. But how? Perhaps these two warriors should not fight on two different sides in the future, but rather combine their skills.But what for?
They always fought against each other. It always has been and always will be. That's what they were born for. It was her destiny.
But is there such a thing as determination at all?
The first raindrops fell here and there. Both fighters tensed, but nothing happened yet.
Then, when the next, branched lightning bolt, followed by an unmistakable rumble of thunder, enveloped the surroundings in a distorting, bluish light for a few seconds, Kostya and Zebulon jumped forward in a single, synchronous movement and met each other. For a moment they seemed to hang motionless in the air as their blades clashed - Kostja's Damascus was not even blocked by a hand-sized weapon. Then the two backed away at the same time, but only to bump into each other again shortly afterwards and with even more force. Their dissimilar blades crossed each other, sparkling.
Why did they fight? Who knew ...Again the two opponents diverged. Kostya casually held his sword in his right hand, ready to attack at any time. Zebulun, on the other hand, had his left arm slightly bent and stretched out in front of him in a defensive position. The warriors circled each other lightly.
Scarcely five seconds later they sped forward again, met in the middle, dealt a few punches and stabs, and sprang apart again, circling each other like two hungry hunters.
Observe, rush forward, attack, draw back. Again and again.
No one hit the other, was able to inflict even the smallest wound on his opponent. How long would this fight go on?

So ... how do you like it? I thought I'd just put it in as Ff. I figured it out when I heard Within Temptation.
But it's actually not finished yet. If anyone thinks of how things could go on, always come up with the ideas!
Please leave me some clerks ...