22 years ago


"Father ...", whispered a little boy, barely audible, and looked at the battlefield in front of him. Everywhere ... there was blood ... the blood in which corpses lay ...

The blood - which was still fresh - flowed through the thin gullies that had formed in the dry ground. Nobody alive could be seen on the whole battlefield, only one ...

The person stood in front of one of the many corpses and slowly lowered his sword towards the ground. He stared at the boy kneeling before a corpse. Nothing could be seen, except the light wind that broke through the dry plain.

A cold smile crept onto the person's lips. How much he had enjoyed showing his powers, which, as you could see, he had also made use of.

He walked slowly towards the boy, his sword still pointed at the ground. The slow steps of the person could be clearly perceived as he stepped into the not yet dry blood.

"Father ..." the little boy whispered again.His eyes were blank and just stared at the corpse in front of him. When he heard steps, he looked up ...

Neither of the two survivors spoke a word. But in the eyes of the taller of the two you could see joy ... joy and pride.

The little boy's face twisted into an angry one. The eyes narrowed with anger and looked at the person with full anger.

The one who owned the rage put his sword in the sheath he wore on the right side. His gaze turned from the boy and glided across the battlefield.

He began to move slowly and strutted across the plain. He paid no more attention to the boy, his attention was only focused on the plain.

The boy looked furiously after the person who disappeared in the fog of the plain. His hands clenched into fists. He looked at the corpse one more time. He got up slowly, his gaze still fixed on the place where the person disappeared.At some point his revenge came ...
He would avenge everyone ... his friends ... his village ... his father ...