The Blaze of Glory
It was a duel that cowered under ominous omens. A duel whose winner would win the hand of the girl who had entranced them both, the challenger and his opponent, with her serene beauty, graceful disposition and her golden heart.
The former was an uncommonly strong and bulky young prince who saw only her dowry and her body. From the day he had been born, he had had everything he ever wanted. Whatever he sought, he attained it. No one dared to challenge him for they feared his power and his blatant cruelty. He wanted the girl, and therefore, he would not rest till he had her, even if it meant challenging a mere commoner.
The latter was of a noble character and he loved the girl for her altruistic heart and not her dowry. He had not led the sheltered life of his challenger, but had studied the art of the blade all his life under the harsh tutelage of his father, a master swordsman. He knew he would never let his love marry the pompous oaf who called himself a prince. Never, for as long as he had blood in his veins, would he allow the brutal prince near his beloved.
The young man's lady love wept tears of sorrow and anger, for she truly loved him. He, who would fight to the death for her. She wept and cursed at the wicked prince who sought to keep them apart, all the while praying that her love would survive the duel.
The young man drew his sword from its scabbard and faced his opponent. He would not lose and he would not fail. He would not abandon his beloved to the prince. He would not let down his father, who had taught him everything he knew of the blade.
The intricate dance of offense and defense.
The perfect harmony between the sword and the one who commanded it.
The young man focused. He knew he had to defeat the prince, who was using a broadsword, a much larger weapon then his own slim blade. Thrust and parry, again and again as the young man assessed his opponent's skill and tried to find an opening in his defense. A weakness. A small one would do. And then it would be over.
Yet, he could find none as the prince guarded himself with brute force, using his massive strength as a weapon. Again and again, the prince used his big, heavy weapon against the young man, pushing him back, forcing him to retreat.
Horrified, the young man's beloved watched, imploring the gods above for his survival. The young man knew he would lose if he continued to fight as he did now. The prince's size and strength played the attack, forcing the young man into falling back to gather his defenses. The young man reassessed the prince's stance and saw a chink in his armour of unrelenting strength.
He manipulated that weakness, viciously staking it out, knowing that his beloved would suffer, should he die in this duel. When he finally had his sword against the prince's neck, the prince spat in his face but finally conceded. The young man paused, knowing his father would have wanted him to behead his opponent, having lost. But he knew that it was enough to have won the duel and his lady love.
And so he sheathed his sword, turned and walked towards his beloved, wreathed in the blaze of glory, burning around him like a thousand haloes.
The prince, his pride deeply wounded, his duel lost, his prize gone, drew out a dagger from his boot and threw it at his opponent.
The warning that his lady love shouted out was a second too late, and in that second, the prince's dagger buried itself in the young man's back. The young man never saw it coming. He had expected the prince to walk away from the fight dignified in his loss, with his honor intact. He had not anticipated a dagger to slice through his chest.
Horror-struck, his beloved ran forward to catch him as he fell. She shed tears of pain at seeing him suffering, tears of anguish that they were going to be separated just after he had won her. Lying in her arms, the young man told her of the contents of his heart and with his last breathe, he kissed her.
The prince watched with satisfaction, not understanding the pain of losing one so beloved, confident that he could claim his woman now that his rival was dead. The blazing light that surrounded the young man at his victory faded away as his soul left his body.
His crying beloved, the beautiful girl, slid the dagger out of his chest and plunged it into her own heart.
This is the first story I've uploaded here, so I would appreciate if you could review and tell me what you thought of this short piece! I hope you enjoyed reading this :)