Playing Football With A Head
"Kill that swine."
Its astonishing that creatures as vile as mud are given the mane of us salvatores, and yet, we found them towering over us, and I watched, screaming in my silence, as they beheaded my companion.
Timere and I had infiltrated Terra Mortis, the land where I screamed my lungs out as his head fell at my feet. It is a land where the air smells of death and the trees whisper fear into the travellers. The men are nefarious, and the women are treated as slaves. Terra Mortis has reigned terror over the other six territories in our world. Our land, Bellatoria, suffered worse than cattle. We had enough.
We wanted war, but settled for mutiny. But we believe in wise ,moves, not reckless sword clashes. So, Timere and I were sent to scout the land.
Our capture meant an alert for war.
Our country doesn't believe in cowardice, but we are weak from our sufferings. A war with the weak isn't a war , it is play. But if the move hits, we shall rise to the occasion.
Our land believes in honour. We do not stand our people kneeling before the enemy.
Timere didn't. He let himself get beheaded, but not lose his honour.
He was dead due to his rashness with our captors. But his recklessness had brought us war. Stealth isn't something you sacrifice during scouting.
The man held the blade against my neck, tainted with Timere's blood.
"You...." Spoke the other man,the king, who had ordered to kill Timere, "Which country do you serve?"
"I serve all the countries if I am against you." I spat.
He kicked Timere's head towards me. It landed at my feet, colliding with my boot with a metallic clunk. I watched disdainfully at my armoured wrists, tied up by chains.
The beheader slashed my cheek. It bled sluggishly.
"Then it shall be okay is we wage a war against every single country of yours?"
"Waging a war with several at once is a notice for losing."
" We don't care. All countries already are at our feet."
"We are rising."
Another slash at my other cheek.
"Occisor, " He called out to the beheader, " Execute the six kings. Threaten to burn their lands if they don't comply. We need not to know who dared to raise the cry of mutiny."
He looked at me, "Unless, we have a name, we might give you a chance to fight."
I looked at Timere, and then at Occisor.
"The king Pruden XI, of Bellatoria."
I looked at the king.
"Throw this garbage in the dungeons. And sent the notice for war to Bellatoria."
