The sky was covered in ash. The ground with blood.
He was walking bare feet amidst the corpses, some were still twitching, some had their eyes open, some closed.
Everything felt like a nightmare.
Except. He was the monster in it.
The castle walls rose high before him. As he craned his neck to look up, he noticed the archers running around. Not to prepare an attack. But to escape.
He didn't blame them. After he had cut down the fiftieth horsemen with just a single strike, the entire enemy army had given up on any attempt to stop him. Every man out there was now on his own.
Still. He raised his blade.
"People of Benevia!"
His voice sounded different, as if it wasn't his own. The people running up and down the walls like frantic ants froze for a second. Even hundreds of yards away, they were still afraid of him.
"Give me back the Saintess and your life will be spared!"
Did you hear that?...
Is the Saintess really worth keeping if we die because of her?..
There it was. The thing about humans that he hate so much. The fickle mindedness. The little selfish hearts that wouldn't mind bleeding out others if that's what they needed to sustain themselves.
He stabbed his sword onto the blood soaked soil. It didn't stand straight. It tilted to a side a little- just like his sanity which kept tilting little by little every passing moment.
"I am not known to be a patient man!" He said, hands cupping his mouth, "I will take the Saintess today with or without Benevia surviving the day!"
"Rudra?"
There she was.
Looking at him from top of the wall, her braids had come undone, her clothes askew. She was panting, her forehead and neck gleaming with sweat.
She looked scared.
And he had never felt so much sure that he wanted her by his side.
"Saintess of Benevia!" Rudra called her, not by her name, but by the status she now held, "Marry me and I'll stop the war! Deny. And I'll make sure to wipe out your entire nation from the face of earth!"
The Saintess paled, "Rudra...," her voice shook, "What have you become!" The words stung Rudra worse than he could have predicted but his face remained stoic, expressionless.
"Do you or do you not accept my offer?"
He remained stood on his ground, on his promise of violence and destruction, of amity and mercy.
Even from afar, Rudra could see her shaking, her fingers curling upon the crumbling wall, eyes bright with horror and rage.
"Choose me!"
Rudra took another step. She flinched. He froze.
Tish..
He prayed silently in his mind, desparate, not to any God or Devil but to the woman cowering about hundred yards away from him.
Tish, for once, choose me...
"I...," Tish swallowed, she was wincing as if she had a thorn stuck in her throat, "I...ch-choose..."
Suddenly an arrow flew in out of nowhere cutting through the wind shrieking like a hunter bird. Rudra's body moved before he could realise what was happening.
But ofcourse he wasn't that fast.
Rudra liked to tell himself that he was exhausted. That taking down the wave after wave of Benevian army had finally tired his muscles. But deep in his heart he knew it wasn't true.
Deep in his heart, he knew it was because of the Saintess. Tish.
Because he had been so focused on the woman before him, he had commited an amateur mistake, a deadly one at that. But it didn't surprise Rudra. For he had always known, one way or other Tish would be death of him.
With a sick wet sound, the arrow embedded itself to the soft muscle between Rudra's neck and shoulder, the impact made him topple back a few seconds. His vision went blurry.
"YOU MMMONSSTERRRR !"
Rudra shook his head, gasping with pain as he tried to understand which brave stupid stupid soul had dared to shoot an arrow at Prince of Partha.
"YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING -"
Rudra touched the shaft of the arrow. A groan rose from the back of his throat which he couldn't really hold back. He could feel the arrow in his flesh. A foreign object notched near his heart. But it's not fatal. Not now atleast.
Yet he didn't dare to pull out the arrow, partly because he dreaded bleeding out there when the Saintess was so close and partly because he just couldn't. The pain was too much.
The crowd atop the tower stirred nervously. They didn't look relieved at all now that Rudra had been wounded. It just made them shiver more
Rudra squinted his eyes, glaring against the sun to spot the shooter. It was a man. Black haired. Golden earring. Eyes large like a deer. He stood behind Tish, looking like her rightful protector.
Rudra scoffed.
He picked up his sword with his good hand. He holds it by the hilt, as if he is holding a javelin. Feet planted afar. His eyes fixed upon the head of the man...
"No!"
It was Tish. It had always been her to stand in his path.
"You cannot kill him!"
And Rudra knew with utmost certainty she would indeed be death of him.
"For I chose him!"
Rudra hand shook. His vision blurred. From exhaustion? From the arrow which might have been poisoned? He didn't care.
He kept staring at the Saintess, even when his knees went weak, as he fell on the ground unceremoniously. Even when he heard cheers of Benevian soldiers that the hero had finally taken down the villain.
He kept staring at Tish.
Even when the world went pitch black.