Humanity's Plight

I stand at the edge of humanity, faced with the most terrifying of enemies. My heart pounds, hand confidently laid upon the blade I forged as my own. Its weight comforts me. This war has been raging for so long, and the destruction of it is vast. Lands bathed in a fire that will never stop burning, and a sky that has turned green from poison and smoke. All is dead. I breathe in deeply, tasting the air that is rotten and try not to choke.

I want this war over.

A leap from my vantage point brings me closer to victory I know I can gain, and everything blurs as I run. Powerful. I am powerful. This time I will win.

A screech overhead chills my spine, and I duck, because the Maw flies low and if I am caught in bloodied claws, then I am done for. Surely, a death that would be for the history books if there were anyone left to write my story.

But there is no one. I am all that remains.

Fire leaps from the ground in thin, greedy tendrils to grab at my ankles. My boots are designed to withstand such things, made from the finest of dragon skin but still, I roll to avoid damage. Distantly, a large, ominous figure rises from the twisting chaos it has created and my eyes narrow. Because that monster is the reason for all of this.

That monster took everything from me, even my beloved. It reaches for me with a huge, clawed hand that shadows the earth beneath. Laughter booms across the sky, clouds gathering and darkening overhead. The Maw has fallen behind, I have avoided its perilous wings and beak, but now the true enemy looms.

I am the champion of the realm; I must succeed.

With a great leap, I clear the final barrier of broken bodies and fallen stone, warriors who have beaten themselves upon the shores of death itself.

My hope is they know peace now they are done with their fight.

Humanity’s light is fading, but I will reignite it. I never much liked the darkness.

Our battle will be one of legends, the shadowed figure is powerful, but my blade is made of the finest dwarven steel. I have spent most of my life perfecting everything for this day and as my hands tremble on the pommel of my sword, the shadow laughs, the sound cruel and twisted.

“You, fair human, are not worthy of my defeat. All my plans have come to fruition and a single little speck upon the world such as you will not stop me. Fall to your knees, beg my mercy, and I may yet forgive this foolishness.”

I hold my blade high in front of me, the point directed at the shadow’s face, and his blood-red eyes narrow as if he already knows how I will respond.

“You have taken everything from me. My home, my life, my family, even my love and yet you offer forgiveness for crimes that I have not committed! It is you, Lucivius, who should be asking I for forgiveness, and I will make you spit the words on your dying breath; I will make you beg for the taste of my steel so the last, miserable moments of your pathetic existence can end.”

Lucivius laughs again, in that sick and twisted way, carried on the winds born of the fire that has spread across the land. It circles us, watching, an audience to an inevitable defeat. Whose defeat is yet to be decided.

There are no more words for us to speak, there is nothing left to be said. Only the clash of steel against black armour, shadowed as it is, and the sparks of battle that heat the air around us. The fire is closing in, drawing closer and I am acutely aware of the danger I am in.

If I die, then all is lost. I will not let this be the end!

Strength fills me; light touches my heart, and I push back against this monster. This filth that has corrupted my home. It cringes, and yowls, unprepared for the onslaught that is my anger.

My blade raises up high, Lucivius grows weaker, their movements sloppy and desperate, and I advance. This is it. Adrenaline surges as Lucivius falls, his back hitting the ashen ground and a hand thrust out as if to make me wait, but there has already been enough time for this beast of the underworld to make amends and he has chosen death.

The arc of my blade is a shimmer of silver and orange, the flames reflected against the steel, and I yell, I scream. All my anger, my desperation, my hurt and satisfaction in one, long, echoing sound as the blade plunges downward to victory-

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The words float before me as if mocking my very existence, and I tap furiously at the keyboard as if that will make it disappear.

“No no no,” I repeat under my breath. My victory, I can see it, right there in the background behind the little black box with those cruel letters written upon it. The point of my sword is against Lucivius’s chest!

“Hey kiddo, time for school,” Dad says, poking his head in the door and I stare at him as if he were the horror Lucivius himself. A slow smirk spreads across his face and he raises his phone. He knows exactly what he’s just done.

“Dad!”

“School! Now!”

I groan and stare at the mocking little letters on the screen. For now, my defence of humanity will have to wait until after Math class.