Aszador and his band of twenty one zealots rested in the forest, wounded.
The night was already fading, a pale strand of light looming over the horizon.
Aszador looked around, completely at lost. He and his warriors stood between the Zerg and the light. He knew that it was already over. There was no way they could come out of this alive.
He placed a hand on the great tree beneath which they were resting. It was one of the few things left on Aiur that was untouched by the Zerg.
"Aszador, there is no way we could defeat them," said Phalanx, his closest friend.
"I know," answered the protoss warrior.
"Then we should retreat back to our hideout," said one of his warriors.
Aszador shook his head.
"If we all go, the Zerg will follow and massacre all those within," he said.
Phalanx's golden orbs narrowed. "What are you proposing?"
Aszador's eyes glowed bright and he stood up tall.
"You all shall go," he declared. "I will stay here and divert them elsewhere."
"No!" said Phalanx. "You will be dying for nothing!"
"Nothing?" repeated Aszador. "You're wrong, I will by dying for something. Look around us, you say Aiur is lost. I say it is not. Look at this forest; it is still untouched by the blight of the Zerg. It is still Aiur. I will defend this forest, because it represents something that we are all losing."
"What might that be?" asked Phalanx.
"Hope. If this forest is still untouched, there must be hope left out there for us. Of course, there many young protoss back at the hideout. They are our hope. I will stand and die to protect that hope. The Zerg may rip me apart, but they will not tear apart our hope to save Aiur!"
Aszador turned and faced the darkness of the forest from which he could hear the Zerg coming.
"Go, I will not blame you," he said as his psi-blades flared to life.
Phalanx walked forward and stood beside him, activating his own psi-blades.
"En Taro Adun!" cried Phalanx. "I will stand by you, mighty Aszador, and defend that hope with you my brother!"
One by one, the other wounded twenty one zealots stood up and ignited their psi-blades, each one determined to fight to the end now that they knew what they were going to die for.
There would be no witnesses to this battle.
There would be no epic song to remember them.
But honour and glory were only a trivial matter in this battle. What mattered was that with this battle, they would buy their brethren a few more days.
Aszador turned to one of his warriors, a young protoss.
"Young one, go back and warn them of the Zerg's coming," he ordered. "Get them out of there."
"But elder!" protested the young warrior. "I want to fight!"
"There will be other battles," said Aszador. "But this battle is not yours! If you don't go, many of our people will die!"
The young zealot lowered his eyes. "I understand, elder."
He looked up at the old protoss warrior with blazing eyes.
"I will tell them of your sacrifice!" he declared. "I will make sure they never forget what you all died for!"
Aszador turned away. "Go now."
The young protoss warrior ran through the forest.
Soon, the darkness was filled by the hellish creatures known as the Zerg.
But as these creatures stepped forth from the darkness, the sun rose with a blaze of glory that blinded the foul beasts.
The glow made the band of protoss warriors look like the glorious ancient warriors of old.
"My brothers!" roared Aszador. "What shall we die for?"
"Hope!" roared his brothers.
As one, they charged into the ranks of the Zerg.
For glory.
For honour.
For death.
For hope.
It was said that on that day, so many Zerg were killed in that forest that the Cerebrates did not send anymore of their minions there.
As mindless as they were, the Zerg felt fear every time they came within sight of that forest.
Thus, many protoss survivors on Aiur sought refuge in that forest. There, they trained and grew stronger for the day that Aiur would be free from the Zerg.
A young protoss warrior returned there to lead those who came for refuge.
He made sure that the people knew who made it possible for them to survive there.
Aszador and his twenty warriors.
What they had died for, would never be forgotten.
Hope.