It's Dangerous
A cough echoed out through the cold, hard stone of the cave. Then another, and another, followed by a heavy sigh. Not just heavy... painful. Filled with sorrow and regret. A sigh that, while weak, carried such meaning, so much emotion. Another cough. Another aching, wretched, agonizing cough. How much longer would the coughing continue? The man, well-aged, with dying gray eyes and even grayer hair, propped himself up against the back wall of the cave, his withered face revealed only by the faint glow of the torches around him. Looking down, the man felt his battered scarlet robe, which had long since lost its vibrant hue. No longer did it command the attention from onlookers. No longer did it mark him as the wealthy. No longer did it have meaning, now that he was dying. Now that the world was dying. The world had gone dark. Not literally, but figuratively. Its desolation had no hope; it seemed that evil was destined to rule the land after all.
The sword hooked to his waist clanked against the stone as he shifted his weight against the wall. Looking down at it, the man sobbed inwardly. Why had he not fought? Why had he been such a coward, pretending for so long in his life that he could do nothing? Who knows, maybe his sword would have been the one to change the fate of the world. Maybe this was all his fault. Maybe. He lifted the blade and rested it on his lap, but he could not do much more. He was weak, and his life was nearing its end; even such a small task caused great fatigue in his arms. Regardless, he stood and lifted the blade to an imaginary enemy, his wrinkled visage as cold and hard as the rocks around him. Maybe he still could change the world! He was not dead yet, he told himself! But with another fit of coughing, the man was once again defeated. He cried silently. He may as well be dead.
Several hours later, what little light the sun brought in was suddenly blocked by a figure in the cave's mouth. The man turned to see what intruder had found his hole this time; he knew he could not fight off yet another monster. This would be his lonely end. Fate, however, had a different idea, for this was no monster... but a young boy. A very peculiar boy, one dressed in an all-green tunic. A cap covered most of his shaggy blonde hair, and a brown belt adorned his waist. This face, though surprised at finding an inhabitant to the cave, was firm. The man knew that look all too well: it was the look his friend had, all those years ago, when he went off to wage war against the forces of evil. That was the last look he'd ever seen on his friend. But now he was seeing it again, here, on the face of someone so young, yet so courageous. He knew exactly what this boy was thinking, without even saying a word. Heaving another sigh, the grayed man slowly approached the lad, and put one hand on his shoulder. The two locked in a stare for several seconds, before the elder finally pulled away, a tear falling from one eye. Unhooking the blade from his side, he handed it to the boy.
"It's dangerous to go alone. Take this."
Without making a sound, the boy nodded, then disappeared back into the outer world. With tears flowing from his eyes, the man slumped to the ground in an uncontrollable display of emotions that he hadn't experienced in years. It was some strange concoction of happiness and fear, and remorse with extreme sorrow. The man coughed again, and looked up.
"For me, this is the end. But for you, boy... this is only the beginning!"
He could see that light from the entrance a little clearer now. And he smiled, face still wet from stinging tears. He saw it: that boy would do it. He would save the world from this evil! This world encompassed by darkness would last not much longer, for this boy was giving off a light. And lights are always brightest in the dark.