C O N F I D E N C E

The sun was already low when the two met. Each of them dug the other's grave/ The experienced killer dug his deep as the other realizes how shallow his grave was. They were going to fight on a hill with a pear tree. The men dug in silence. When they were done, both of them stood in between the graves marking the arena they would fight in.

"What's your name, kid?" The experienced one asked.

"John." He said.

"John? Your father named you after himself. Interesting. You don't look like a John. Are you sure you still want to do this?"

John nodded without looking at him.

"Very well. John, what do you want on your grave?

John remained silent.

"You didn't think about this in case you die? Unless you fully intend to win. But come on, let's be realistic."

John still remained silent.

"Well, for me, if I die, I want something along the lines of, Sir Donald the greatest of all time. Sir Donald, the GOAT. Yes, excellent! Sir Donald, the GOAT! That phrase will go down in history."

"Let's just get this over with," John said, pulling out his knife.

Sir Donald's tone turned serious as he took out his much larger dagger. "Sure. Move that branch so none of us trip."

John turned around to look. With his focus fixed behind him, Sir Donald rushed up, stabbing him in the stomach. There was no branch. John fell to the ground throwing his knife in the air. He crawled away to the pear tree and leaned up against it. He realized how stupid he was tossing his knife like that to have a free hand. Blood trickled down his armor in a steady drip on the grass/ John gripped his wound, knowing the end was near. He cursed under his breath and let out a sigh of disappointment.

Sir Donald sat next to him. John looked down at the ground and felt nauseous.

"I never really stood a chance, did I?" John asked

"The funny part is you probably did. You're younger, stronger, and I'm old and getting weaker. Though I am more experienced and clearly smarter." Sir Donald stood up and picked a pear from the tree. Then sat back down. He took several bites before offering John a bit. "Hungry?"

John shook his head.

"You're right. I wouldn't be either, and I wouldn't want my last supper to be a pear." Sir Donald chuckled to himself. There was a short period of silence as he got himself together. "It's funny the things you remember watching someone die.

John winced and looked over at Sir Donald.

"I have a wife and two daughters, John. I love them so much. They are my world. Watching someone die floods my mind with memories of when they were born. I prayed for a son both times, and each time they were born, I was sent off to war. In the heat of battle, I was thankful that I had daughters. I wouldn't want my son or sons to do this or witness this. I cherished life after all that. I was careful, and I wasn't the reckless war brute I was known to be. That's why I had to kill you like how I did. Sorry. I have more of a life to get back to than you. I want to die at home, not decapitated or an arrow to my chest or a knife in my throat, you know?"

John growled at him and rolled his eyes. The sun was getting lower, and John wasn't dead yet. Sir Donald would let him bleed out. A pear fell from the tree, landing next to John. Both heard the thud, but John looked over in curiosity and saw his knife.

"Did a pear fall next to you?" Sir Donald asked. He didn't wait for an answer before continued with war stories and late nights at brothels. John assumed Sir Donald didn't see the knife and reached for it with the other hand. It took too much strength, but he gripped it tightly. Then he swung it over at Sir Donald. Sir Donald caught it with his hand. The blade went straight through. John used the last of his strength to push pin Sir Donald's hand to his throat. The edge going through his hand and his neck. Sir Donald spat out blood and slid away from John. John leaned away in fear of retaliation from Sir Donald, but he just looked at him with watery eyes trying to fight back the tears and coughing up blood. John knew Sir Donald would die first, but he would be right behind him.

Seconds later, Sir Donald stopped moving. His lifeless body laid in the grass. It was over. John's heart stopped shortly after. Their blood soaked in the dirt and stained the grass. A young man and woman rode by in a carriage. They stopped just off to the side of the road and walked up the hill. The woman was shocked to see the sight and covered herself behind her husband. He moved the bodies to the graves. Sir Donald in the deep grave and John in the shallow grave. Before pushing them in, he stripped them of their armor, weapons, and valuables. After he buried them, his wife made crosses out of branches from the pear tree. She placed one on each grave before walking back down to the carriage. The husband picked a few pears and carried them down with one in his mouth. Once they were all set, they shared a pear on the way home.