Swordfall

One

The dark grey sky lay an ominous blanket over the dull city. The grass on the hillside, just adjacent to the town, was drained of life and craved colour. The trees and plants drooped, no longer standing tall and proud. The crisp air was filled with shouts of anger and screams of agony. The sound of horses galloping and racing was drowned out by the ear-piercing, heart-breaking, gut-wrenching battlecries.

One by one, soldiers were knocked off their steed and sent tumbling down to the hard, cold ground. Each brave fighter was motivated by the flame roaring inside of them, brighter than the sun, louder than a lion, stronger than a bull. They were all driven by the passionate desire to prove themselves. To make others see. To make them understand. To make them pay.

The stars in their eyes were replaced with aggressive flares. Sweat from nerves began breaking out on the soldiers' foreheads, but they refused to show any form of fear. Enyo's father had taught her from a young age that when fighting, she should never show weakness; she should be strong, because even when it's dark, the stars still shine. "Look for the stars, my love." he used to tell her. Her father must have known that she would grow to be such a courageous warrior. Or perhaps he raised her to be this way, since he never had a son that wasn't stillborn. Her name represents Enyo, the goddess of war that was constantly covered in blood, holding weapons, and known as the "waster of cities".

Enyo's resolute gaze met Ares' deep, blue eyes. The pair were destined to be mortal enemies, born just a few months apart, each a descendant of the two initial feuding families. Although, it's ironic, really. Similar to Enyo, Ares' name represents the God of War. Each of them was just as strong as the other, no matter how hard they would quarrel over who's more brave and bold. They grew up hating each other for reasons beyond their knowledge, but that doesn't mean they despised each other any less. In fact, for all one knows, it could be more of a reason to be rivals.

They stood still and silent amongst the chaos, waiting for their opponent to give in, to turn back, to retreat. They were statues in a bustling street, if the street were a gory battlefield, and the music you normally hear was replaced with soul-crushing shrieks of pain. Suddenly, before anyone could process what was happening, Enyo and Ares were charging towards each other, everyone surrounding them becoming nothing but a colourful blur. Enyo masked her fear the way she always does; with a fierce yell in an attempt to intimidate the opposition. This works, of course, but Ares is very much like Enyo in the sense that he's stubborn and will not show when he is afraid. So, he retaliated with a cry, just as menacing. Enyo's long, brown, wavy hair blew like a flag in the wind as her horse glided across the battlefield. Ares' fluffy hair bounced up and down like a child on a trampoline.

The pair were just a few inches away from each other, their swords even closer. As Ares went to impale Enyo with his sword, thirsty for victory, her horse raised to tower over the world on its hind legs at the ringing of a deafening siren, leaving Enyo with a deep, rose-red wound trailing down her arm.