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writingThe warrior of braveland

With immense pain in his eyes he looked at the strong built 7 feet giant in front of him. The bald giant was having brown beards and an ear ring pierced on his left ear. He pulled out the sword from the warrior’s belly. The warrior, although a skilled fighter was not as huge as the black giant. The warrior looked at the bald fighter while lights leaving his eyes. But, the bald fighter was still not satisfied. He stabbed him again. This time the warrior could not take the blow. His knees tilted unable to hold his body erect. His breathing rose, singing the song bidding a bye to this world. His first  drop of blood rushing out of his chest hit the ground creating an outcry as if some mountain has broken down to dust. The sand on which the blood fell jumped with joy. The sand knew that she will be worshipped by people for centuries.
The warrior looked around. Everything was getting slower & slower with time. The masked people in black armours where fighting with the orange warriors. The weapons of the black fighters where way superior then the orange warriors, but it was not enough to kill their spirits. The warrior looked around and his eyes get stuck at the people standing at the top of the fort. The people who refused to take the battle. Who preferred to stay back safe and accept what fate will bring to them.
He turned his head. He saw a guy in the orange warrior’s armour standing just outside the circle of fighting arena near the woods. Their eyes met. He could not dare to look into the eyes of his king. He lowered his eyes, put down his armour on the sand, and nude, he run away into the woods.
He then turned his eyes towards east and saw two warriors in orange armour running towards him, probably to save him. But they could not. Some arrow flying of the sky, hit the left warrior. The second warrior turned to him to help him. Unnoticed, a black armoured guy came from somewhere. With a slashing sound, blood spilled out of the warrior’s throat. The two allies fell on the ground, looked at each other, with zeal & pride.
The warrior king saw two of his allies dying. But there was no sign of pity in his eyes. He looked at their dead bodies proudly and gave a farewell smile. The huge bald fighter looked at the warrior. His shadow covered the upper half of the fallen warrior. The warrior tilted his head and looked in to the eyes of the bald giant. He was in immense pain, but there was no sign of fear. He was proud when he looked at the giant. He knew that he is going to die, but it was a feeling like no parallel. He was dying trying to do what he wanted to. He was giving a meaning to his life, and he knew that he will be worshipped for his deeds.
The black giant just could not take it anymore. He wasn’t happy. May be he wanted to see the warrior begging for his life, maybe he wanted him to be feared of death. The giant knew that the warrior will die in moments, but he could not even take those moments. He didn’t have the courage to look into his eyes. He stretched his arms, holding the sword. The reflection of sun from his sword on the face of the warrior, made the sun glow a bit more than usual. With sound creating chaos in the heart of the ocean wind, coming from the ocean of spirits next to the fort, the sword was pushed into the heart of the warrior. With a long sigh, the warrior was free from all miseries.
The time took a pause. Everything, living & dead stopped at that very moment. A single blood trail walked pass his chest, touched the ground gently. From his chest, pushed out a source of light, a ball of flames. It was so high on energy as if a thousand suns are glowing at that battle field. It hovered over his body for sometimes, bidding a tribute. It then flew up towards heaven. Slowly, the light turned to normal, things get back to motion. The warriors, all of them, both in orange and black, stood still.
The black giant could not hold the weight of that sword anymore; he let it fall on the ground. They all have witnessed the whole sequence. Maybe it was God’s will, maybe it was the effect of the warrior’s spirit.
I don’t know the exact reason, but the battle stopped. May be they all were enlightened. The black fighters sailed back to their land. They didn’t take anything from that place, except a small part of the sand, soaked in the blood of the warrior. The people who refused to fight and were ready to be slaved, were so ashamed of themselves that they left the “Braveland”.
The place where the warrior died has a huge temple, made of gold. The walls are crafted with the story of his life. At the top of the temple is a diamond they say, as huge as a full grown tiger. It was gifted by the black fighter king.
You can still visit this place. You can still meet the warriors blessed with an eternal life. You can still touch the statue of the warrior who died trying. But, there is just one condition, you need to find the “braveland”. There is no map to go there. But, there is a way to get a map. As per the legends, the map lies within your heart. All you have to do is to close your eyes, and realise what you want and then have to be brave enough to follow your heart. If you will win, you will be blessed with eternal life, and if you would die trying, you will become “The Next Warrior of Braveland”.

It is a motivational write up which describes a fantasy world which probably shall relate with you. hope it pumps your up.

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