Chaos Writing - Two Warriors
So I’ve decided to do a bit of a difffffferent effort this time. It’s gonna be in the vein of a friend’s writing thing they’re doing called @10minutewriting And you can find that by clicking their username there (If I did the hyperlinking right). And with that shameless promotion of my friend out of the way (completely of my own volition and with no asking from him at all) , leeeet’s get writing! 10 Minutes! One story! Let’s-a go!
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As two warriors stand, swords drawn, watching each other, waiting. They knew one would die here today. They knew that this is where one path ended, and one continued. Their friendship lasted a long time, but this was an unfortunate turn.
One was built, stoic, heavily armored with a custom tailored scimitar. The other, lean and quick, wearing much lighter bamboo-type armor, wielded a katana. They stood. Stared. Watched. Waited more. Listening for the church bell nearby that would signal in the next few minutes which one would have the upper hand and which one would lay dead while the victor stood to gain the spoils of their dead friend. They knew it would not be long. they knew one good swing and someone was dead, but neither considered it to be themselves. They stood. Waiting. Watching. Listening more.
And then it happened. The bell rung. One. Two. Three. The two warriors shunted forward from around ten steps apart from each other and started closing in with ferocious and fiery energy. On-lookers saw two swordsmen that they all respected going to someone’s death. The sounds the blades made rung out like sad music as the blades clashed and held up against each other despite their differing compositions. Two clashes. Three. Four. Five. A connection gets made and the metal-armor clad warrior steps back quickly checking his arm. The bamboo-clad warrior stepped back a moment to wait. To watch. To Listen. As much as he knew this was his opponent, he also knew this was his friend. The metal-clad warrior chuckled and spoke.
“You got me.”, and then paused before continuing in awe of his friend, “Wow. I almost didn’t catch that swing.”
“I’ve had to stay on my toes since I’m not as big and tough as you are, friend.”, the bamboo-clad warrior replied.
They resumed their stance. Watching. Waiting. Listening for each others moves. They wanted to end this duel and end it cleanly. As they went to step forward again to attack, a familiar girl stepped in front of them and yelled at them to stop, pleading with them about if they saw how stupid they were being. The bamboo-clad warrior scoffed a moment. And then paused. And then thought. In the end they stopped because of this girl that was their friend, patched their friend up, and then sat for a cup of tea.¹ They learned something that day. That even in a battlefield, friends can remain, no matter what side they were on.²
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¹ = 10-minute ending point
²= When I full stopped, at 10m 36s
