A black knight stands in a field, his country behind him. A knight of red, stands but a stone’s throw to the black armored knight, his country behind him. The both stand and glance at each other for a few moments. The sun was warm, even warmer in a field of no shade, and men packed into suits of armor, like tuna in a can. Neither men want to be there, but their king commanded it. “After all, it’s right if the king commands it right?” they both thought silently.
The horses become restless, ready to let their strength go in all out charge of declaration of war, their pelts gleaming with a fresh brushing before the battle. The knight in all black takes a small step back, a funny little half step. The knight of red, takes the moment and draws his sword in what only seemed like a few milliseconds, yet it seemed to take so long, the double sided blade slowly unsheathing, a glisten for sun reflected off of it with a bright peach orange. The country of red starts its slow gallop to the meeting point of the two armies, a large buck from a few horses, and a low rumble start. Both the knight of red, and the knight of black are caught off guard.
The two armies clash in the sound of steel. The birds sit nearby, as if observing the stupidity of the battle. Like little laughing children making fun of the new kid, neither of them knowing anything of the intent of him. The sound is near defining, men shouting, screaming in pain from wounds they would not wish to have, nor to wish on their enemies.
The two knights are stuck in the middle, one no more or no less experienced than each other. Both have families, friends and pets who will miss, and mourn their death. Both men are fighting for the same cause. Their king commanded it, neither of them questioning his majesties order, logic or reason behind his hate for the other king.
The two knights circle each other waiting for one to slip up, to not take everything so seriously. That’s when they would attack. Their armies are ignoring the two, as if they had a rancid stench. The two men wearing down the grass. Neither of them want to parish, but neither of them want to kill, but both are dedicated to their own cause.
They may have been best friends outside of war, could be so close they could be brothers, who knows, they may be brothers separated at birth, doomed to never see each other again until now. One would triumph, the other left there, in his oven for a suit, to die. To have failed his cause, to be another statistic, toll, waste of time. If he were to die, then 18 years wasted on a man who fought for thirty seconds, too weak to think, and power thru for his cause.
Soon one would have to strike… The red knight stumbles from a small lump of grass that he thought about too hard. The black knight swings hitting the shoulder plate of the red knight. His shoulder dislocated now. He lay in pain, as the black knight stands over him. Simple waste of time the red knight thought, this war, his armor, his sword and himself. He could continue to think of the battle, but of his family, friends and others.
The black knight stood poised, ready to strike at the first sign of life. The grass has never felt so soft, he did not feel the gleaming, judgment eyes of the birds, but rather sorrow for himself. Self-pity if you will. He knows what happens now… was it worth it? He asked himself over and over. It seemed to take forever for his answer. The black knight had not budged from his spot. Finally, after some courage and will he stuck his hand in the air, feeling the breeze, up toward the black knight.
The black knight startled, he looked down, pulling his sword that he had stuck in the ground, the semi wet soil sticking to the tip of the blade, as well as pulling up a small clump of the soil up, from where the blade was, and hovered it over the red knight with slight hesitation, he thrust it into the red knights stomach area. The red knight convulsed upward in a V shape, his arm fell down to the ground. His cry could not be heard over the battle raging around. He blacked out.
When the knight awoke, the battle had ended. Spears, swords and shields riddled the ground as if it were fallen leaving during autumn. He slowly looked around the war torn field. The ground was littered with crimson. He looked to the sky, the blanket of clouds and sun matched to ground. Though, the sky was much more peaceful, he knew that the crimson on the ground was not the same as the crimson in the sky.
He looked back to the left. A smooth, rounded stone sat there. It had not been there before, a black figure sat on the rock, he looked like one of those horror movie ghosts that you would tell at a camp fire to scare people. He was spattered with crimson, like a dipped ice cream cone. The red knight knew it was not of the same as the sky’s crimson. Maybe the man sitting there was from the sky, the gods, here to rescue him and return him to his home with his loving wife and children.
The dark figure stood up, the sun light shining on the figure, the crimson grew brighter and the figure stepped forward. The red knight looked down at his stomach, it had hurt and he did not remember why. He saw a long blade with a short hilt, stuck in the middle of him. His eyes grew wide, a deer in the headlights, he placed his hands upon the sides of the sword, and with on swift force pulled it out.  The sword was very heavy, he was very tired. The sword fell to his side.
The dark figure stepped closer, leaning over the red knight’s face with his own. His helmet covered his face. A drop of crimson ran down one side of the figures helmet, and l dropped onto the red knight’s helmet. The red knight recognized the black armor now it was, indeed, the black knight. He had waited here for the red knight to wake up so he could kill the red knight. Why? Thought the red knight. Why stab me, leave me to die then come back to ensure my long death?
The black knight stood still, hovering over the red knight for a moment. The he reached for the sword that lay near the red knight. Crimson covered the blade, there was some dirt left, but it had absorbed the crimson. The red knight could not bear the thought of leaving his family, but he accepted it. He then asked
“Why do you wait for my death black knight?”
“Because, you see, I am not here to kill you, but rather ensure your destiny”
With that, the black knight grabbed the sword and walked off, leaving the red knight, laying there in the dirt confused, but he accepted it. And got up with a slight limp. He followed the black knight till he fell and could not get up.