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Open your eyes unto the blinding sunlight let you eyes burn with the white filling them. Lights danced across your plain of vision as the battlefield firmed from the white. Your hand refused to let go of the blade. Perhaps you held it so long perhaps your hand has simply grown around it? Look around at the corpses of the fallen. Your whole body aches as you walked on. You have to keep walking. Nothing can stop you. An arrow flies over your shoulder, and you begin to run. Run, dodge, and hold your blade. Strike down another foe. And run. Cry in agony. And run. Don’t stop for Abigail.
Climb the hill as you can. Pushing your tired feet up every step. Into the forest, across a river, hold your arms above your head so your weapons don’t rust. Run for hours, run for days. It hardly matters anymore. Nothing matters anymore. Except for Abigail.
Ran across a desert. Feel the sun burning your white arms black. Brush your brown hair out of your brown eyes and run. Watch the foes pull the bowstrings back, fall to the sand and run again. Run again, for Abigail.
Strike another man down, ignore his screams, you cannot stop for Abigail. Climb atop a horse and ride it into the dusk. Ride to the mountain. Say a few spattered words as the foe rides towards you. Parry a blow and strike him down. Cross unto the gate. All for Abigail.
See the mage atop his thrown. Run across his cold stone floor. Slay his mighty dragon. Break his staff of power. Climb the tallest steps in the tallest tower and break down the door.
Lay down your sword and shield; tear the helmet from your head. Lie down and begin to weep, at the feet of Abigail.
- by DreamWarden |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 03/12/2010 |
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- Title: Abigail
- Artist: DreamWarden
- Description: I suppose maybe this should be in the poetry section, it was meant to be a poem when I first wrote it, just a very short story now.
- Date: 03/12/2010
- Tags: abigail
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