Mourn of the sword chapter 4
image created by me @fieryfootprints
Before we continue with the story I would like to ask you all. What are your favorite books?
Copyright (c) 2019 Simonas Tuinyla. All rights reserved.
This attempt could have worked against most enemies. But not against Cercor. Even after being blinded mercenary caught the hand of Minil and crushed it instantly. At the same time Cercor started attacking. Minil tried to get away but he already knew that this time his fate is sealed. Cold blade was coming closer and closer. After witnessing the upcoming death Minil still found a bit of time to remember his miserable life. As a child he lived in the streets and often fought with stray dogs for a slice of bread. Then he found his calling. Became a killer. After that never ending rivers of blood and fold flowed through Minil's hands. Women, dice and wine. Once again empty pockets. More blood. Much much more. Enough blood to flood the rest of his life.
Did any of that had any purpose? Any meaning? No. Minil wanted to live. So everyone else had to die. But now death came for him anyway. Well maybe that is fair? Dying by a sword after living by a sword seemed like a appropriate ending. And yet Minil still wanted to live. Till the very last moment when Cercor’s blade cut of his head. Even after that Minil still remained alive long enough to hear joyful screams of the crowd and heralds declaring:
-The winner is Cercor! This is the end of the first day of the tournament…
Copyright (c) 2019 Simonas Tuinyla. All rights reserved.
