I drop to one knee and prop myself up with my sword. I wipe my brow with a look of utter bewilderment. This fight has taken more of a toll on me than any previous, all because I wanted something so stupid and trivial as immortality.
The cold has made my breath visible. The ice has weighed down what otherwise would be very light and effective armor. My shield is several feet away, leaving me completely open to attack I'm burning on the inside of my skin, while the outside is frost bitten. My mouth is dry from the obscenities that I've screamed at my enemy... pure futile frustration. The ice and snow under my feet have hindered my movement to the point that my practiced dexterity is of no use now.
In other words, I'm completely fucked.
In short range is my enemy.
Cold.
Unfeeling.
Honestly, not giving a damn whither I live or die.
She stands unhindered, completely at home in the bitter cold. Her hair gently touches her shoulders, jet black and shimmering in what light creeps into this dark situation. Her eyes are fixed on my wounded body, a breezy smile graces her lips as she admires her handy work. Her head is cocked slightly to the side as to welcome my next move. Her dress is long and flowing like a star-shaded night gown, form fitting, yet allowing ease of movement. Her blade is long and stained with the blood of countless rivals, now dropping with my crimson fluid freshly withdrawn from my chest plate.
Of all that describes her, I'm most intrigued by her smile, for I know that pure pleasure is take in the fact that this struggle is almost over, I know that she actually longs for a challenger that has the ability to best her. This to me is the greatest insult, for the fact that I'm not even considered a worthy opponent, though we've been blade to blade for longer than my hazy mind can comprehend.
Our objectives lay past both of us.
She looks past me to her sweet exit. A world where she can be free from her charge of protection. She chained to the one prize that I seek, however she isn't mindful that the outside is warm and free of the snow she has grown accustomed to. She will perish, which is something I've worked all my life to achieve; but in her demise also is the demise of the one thing in this world I long for.
She protects the flame of everlasting, the warmth of eternal peace and knowlege, my final reward for my constant struggles, the payment for my endless years of training. I've sworn that this prize would be mine, and I've bleed gold to try to achieve it. My heart tells my to keep fighting, but as I mentioned earlier, my heart has been ripped apart by her wicked blade.
All that's left of me is my mind, swimming away from my control due to lack of blood and oxygen, and my master telling me to swing my sword to my dying breath, though we both know that isn't the soulition.
At this point I want her to taste her first warm breath of the outside world. Become justified in her fatal decision and melt away like a bad dream,
But it's RIGHT THERE!
mabie I should of pivitoted on the left insted of the right, mabie I should of closed my eyes and listed to her footsteps in the snow to plan my next attack. Mabie, JUST mabie I shouldn't have taken this fool heartey quest in the first place, sheathed my sword and taken up cooking or bull fighting, but no.... this is what I've always wanted, and I took the risk on something that I've had improper weapons, armor, and intel on.
But, I'm here now.... and it's almost over.
I wish that the notion of the fact that I tried gave me comfort, or the fact that despite the fact that I've lost years over a failed attempt, that I got this close.. a feat I thought I'd never achieve. However, it's to cold for comfort, and she's already a few steps out the passage way.
She's already won. She knows it, I know it, the eternal flame is sputtering out, and I won't even get the consolation of being ended honorably.
I won't die here however, even with the cave in and the loss of the flame, I will still roam the earth. My wounds will heal and I may even become better at my sword craft from experiencing such a terrible defeat... but the flame is lost forever, and the frost that weighs down my armor will never melt.
Lord... I've failed, and I'm truly sorry. I swear I've done my best, and my only regret is the fact that in the confidence of my own abilites, I've lacked the wisdom to surpass this foe.
Now all I can do is watch as my dream walks slowly away and prey to myself that I can one day walk again, and that my shattered heart will one day pump new blood and new hope.
But for now..... I'm done.
I truly am sorry.................................................
