Broken Arrow

I waited on that boulder in the dark greenery of the vast forest. My finger traced the edge of the arrow head. That place, where I sat, so still and dull, was sheltered. Though, why I was sheltered and kept from harm is beyond me. Why should I be given such a luxury when everyone else was… When they were all out there?

I should have been with them…


The wind howls as it rushes through the dusty land where life shouldn't exist. It screams across the plains of death and decay. Its passage takes it between the sabres and shields of the conflicting armies. Though, as the wind, it pays no heed to the mortal struggles it encases in its course. The wind only witnesses, and further in its journey, whispers of the sights, sounds and deeper meanings.

Along its journey through the rampant chaos of the battlefield, it slows as it nears one man. The warrior himself faces no great troubles. His enemies have chosen to battle those close by him. He, for the most part, watches as his enemies and allies clash. His calculating eyes flit from person to person; even as his allies fall.

In his grip is a fierce sabre, but it stays still by his side. He frowns, displeasure clearly showing on his face. His eyes narrow, but he stays in his place. Not even the growing river of crimson shakes whatever resolve holds him where he is. Or, perhaps resolve is what forces him into battle every now and then.

His mind is his own, and his thoughts are of the utmost secrecy.



The rain has misted the mountain. The greenery has shifted now, it's become a darker hue. It feels like tears on the land. I won't listen to it though, and neither will I hear that bird in the skies above. These unnecessary sounds are such a distraction. I don't even belong here. My place is far away. My time calls for me on a distant horizon that exists far beyond my sight.

It exists on a barren land where life cannot exist…


The fierce wind whips around, slicing through the battlefield. It slips over corpses, and through open wounds. Faster and faster, it races to where that lone warrior had been. As it encroaches upon that area once more it becomes apparent that the warrior has gone. The wind slows, beginning to swirl wildly. The battle field shifts, spreading away from the beginnings of a tornado.

He's gone, running and escaping the carnage of the battle. Cowardice cannot touch him, and it does not drive him onwards. He flees for reasons that make sense to him. The entirety of the idea creates a glint in his eyes. It speaks of darkness, schemes, malevolence and blood. He's pleased, and not afraid to show it in his own ways. He runs faster, towards a great canyon.

He runs towards the terrible end to his means.


"Watch the world turn, and as the skies darker find another way to make something happen,"

The mist has shifted. It comes for me now. I will escape its clutches, and I will face my time. I cannot watch as it slips away from me. I will not wait for everyone to perish as I hide. I have no cowardice in my life.

Watch the world twist, before I break it down

Part One.

Author's Note: I'm sorry, my computer broke. It will be fixed soon. Until then, I hope this will do. It shouldn't last too long.