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Beneath unforgiving twilight,

I sing alone

 

A golden light once offered,

But just out of reach

 

Life and destiny,

Once side by side,

One must take precedence,

And the other-

 

Beneath unforgiving twilight,

I sing alone,

A song of hopeless causes,

Telling the tale of fate

 

The golden light now gone,

Refused once again

 

Every sleepless evening,

I sing alone

 

The golden light I once glimpsed,

Just out of reach

 

The tale unfolds,

But the end is decided

 

Beneath the weight of knowledge,

I sing alone

Fate is heavy

And truth the more so

 

Life is shunted to the side,

What must be done will be,

And is remembered with longing.

 

But what must be done, will be

And so I sing alone,

Beneath the golden twilight

 

 

Kerassin watched.  Merely watched, and did nothing, not even at the sight of the horrors currently unfolding before her.  She didn’t even turn a gold-red hair as her mother was decapitated.  Only duty remained within the husk that was Kerassin.  She thought, distantly, that perhaps a different path could have changed this, but nothing else followed that thought.

 

What will be, must be

 

The black robed murderers departed, leaving behind scores of dead.  No one came for many a time afterwards; any who would have been nearby to help or see also attacked.  The black men, and women, were ruthless, and nearly as fanatic to what they saw as their duty as Kerassin.

 

Life shunted to the side,

 

The horrified reactions of returning family, days after the event, were sickening her mind.  But still Kerassin watched, waiting for Him to appear.  She only knew, now that her teacher -for lack of a better word- was gone, that for her purpose to be filled, she had to find Him.

 

Fate is heavy,

 

He had no name, merely a feeling, a presence, one that she’d assumed she know when confronted with it.  She knew little more, only that He would save and destroy, and that her purpose was to aid Him.  And in order for her to do that, she’d have to find Him first.

 

And the truth more so

 

Suddenly, He was there.  Not like He came from a distance, or even just Appeared.  He was just there.  She started in surprise, the first thing closest to human behavior in so long... and left her vantage point.  He was watching the people take care of the dead with the sadness she thought she would have had if she still had even some semblance of emotions.

 

The tale unfolds,

 

He started at her appearance, as startled as she at His.  But He merely watched her, and said nothing.  She also said nothing, but offered her sword, as much a part of her as her arm.  He watched her warily, but took the sword, and, somehow knowing the correct ritual, cut His palm with the point.  Blood welled up in the cut, falling and staining the shining blade.  Then healed, simple as that.  There was no cut, nothing to evidence the existence of any wound whatsoever.  Except the red on the blade.

 

Just out of reach

 

He handed her the sword back, with the proper care one would give to such a powerful weapon.  Kerassin took it, and cut her own palm, letting her blood fall on the redness already on the steel.  She watched with dull silver eyes, and He watched with His bright bleu ones.

 

A golden light once offered,

 

A bright spark flashed on the tip of the blade, and then all was normal.  No blood on the sword, nothing to mark either of them.  Only knowledge.  Knowledge of prophesy; that she would always be there behind Him.

 

Telling the tale of fate

 

Since that day, He indeed fulfilled prophesies, led peoples, destroyed nations.  He also had a Shadow, always close behind Him, and always ready to die for Him.  But the day for His Shadow to die would not come, not until His own death.

 

I sing alone

 

He never questioned her, never seemed interested in her past, or her choice to follow Him.  Kerassin accepted this, with the disinterest she seemed to give everything not directly concerning Him.  Occasionally, one of the high ranking men who also followed Him would ask Him about her, to see what her position was, to see if she could be used.  And every single time they met with a glance, not even a glare or threat filled stare, and they would forget their question.  It was accepted, aside from these few, that she was part of Him.

 

But the end is decided

 

The day came when, like all true legends, He was forced to face the Darkest of All Evils, a sorcerer of untold Dark powers.  He came armed with His own magics, an army, and Kerassin.  The prophesies foretold this, but not the ending.  Few knew how this Great Battle would end.  Very few.

 

Beneath unforgiving twilight,

 

Finally, at sun-set of the third day of all-out battle, the two leaders of the massed armies met.  A great circle widened around them, for this was the true battle foretold in any prophesy.  Many of both sides lay slain, but even the souls of the dead gathered to watch this ending of all that had been coming to a head for thousands of years.

 

Once side by side,

 

Light and Dark.  Good and Evil.  The two sides faced each other, the pawns to higher powers.  Warring higher powers.  With a shock, He recognized His opponent, if only in a vague, undefined way.  The features of  His enemy’s face were so startlingly familiar...  He focused on His battle.  This would decide the fate of the world.  Those were the only words Kerassin had ever spoken, aside from her name, and only once.  He felt her behind Him, soothing in that He would never be alone.

 

A song of hopeless causes,

 

The dance of death began, with these two pawns at the centre.  Light and Dark flowed, attacking, defending, in a battle of wills beyond that of mortal men.  The armies massed ceased to exist.  This was the titanic conclusion to thousands of years of strife, controversy, and endless war.  This would decide the way fate turned.  And no matter what the conclusion, a lesson would be learned.

 

But the end is decided

 

The Light lay slain, or the embodiment, at least.  The shock of the masses was great.  After all the preparation of those striving for a positive future, all would come to naught.  All who fought for the light were paralyzed with their shock.

 

Life is shunted to the side,

 

A very good reason Kerassin felt no shock, felt no pain.  She moved smoothly in front of the Dark leader, who stood staring at he body of the Light with a grim smirk on his face.  He wasn’t watching anything but the corpse.  She raised her sword in one last salute, as the Dark leader looked up and saw her.  He readied a ball of magical energy, but even as he caught her with the brown-red orb, she impaled him with her beautiful physical weapon.

 

What must be done will be,

 

His gaze of shock fell on her still indifferent face.  She gazed steadily at him with dull silver eyes.  His fading curses fell on deaf ears.  She’d finally seen what she was meant to do, what she was meant to be.  And she opened her mouth one last time, as she lost strength,
“Fool.”  And fell forward, falling onto the former Dark leader, whose identical features to the shadow were in an identical death position.  Dull, disinterested.  Dead.

 

And the other-

 

 

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Okay... anyways, that was short story written on little inspiration but the poem at the top.  It’s a short story because it is short, less then three pages long, and has lots of little plot holes, that are meant to be there.  What wasn’t written wasn’t supposed to be.  If it confuses you, don’t worry: you’re not alone.  Just use your imagination, and enjoy (hopefully).  Any references of ‘He’, ‘Him’, and so on mean Kerrasin’s master/leader/ the Light leader.  Such is how she thinks of him, anyways.  Please R/R?