The Warrior

The warrior lives and breathes chaos.

It is what drives her on.

And it is what gives her great and terrible purpose.

She searches for fierce battles with a disgusting blood lust.

And during her many abhorrent fights, she merely wears a grin that would make even the Cheshire cat shy away in fear.

The warrior seems to become one with the discord that she lives for.

Her appearance changes drastically.

Her hands are rough with callouses, her clothing is ripped and torn in multiple places, her body is battered and bruised, her eyes have dark circles, and her hair is a birds nest.

Anyone that takes in the mere sight of the warrior is struck with a maddening fear.

The townspeople band together because of the dire fear they share for the beast like warrior.

She charges into battle with a frightful war cry as she brings the very land and the people in it to their knees.

The land becomes scarred with past tussles; trees get knocked down to mere splinters, and mountains crumble like sand.

As the warrior battles on, her power grows, as does her obsession for a lack of order.

The warrior longs to bring the world into her oh so glorious chaos.

So she travels from country to country destroying everything and everyone.

The world truly has a taste of her beloved discord.

As the warrior destroys the world, she destroys herself, and who she once was.

But finally, a brave hero faces her.

The hero sees the warriors ragged form; her wild eyes, and as always, that wry smile playing on her lips.

The hero charges at her, a hardy sword in hand, full of determination to end the turmoil that the insane warrior has caused.

The brawl goes on for almost a whole day, neither one giving an inch.

The warrior has met her great match.

The hero observes this and mocks her terribly, causing the warrior to lose her confidence.

Sweat beads down her face with worry.

For once, her confident grin is nowhere to be seen.

Her movements become desperate and extremely sloppy.

By now both have become completely and utterly exhausted.

They are battered and bloody, and very nearly ready to drop.

But the hero sees an opening, and takes it.

The hero plunges their sword deep into the warrior.

Blood spills out of the wound, and on to the hero’s hands.

They stare into each other’s eyes for what seemed forever, until the warrior closes her eyes, all of the madness and longing for chaos finally gone.

The hero lays her down, and looks upon her with an array of emotions.

Triumph because of the peace her demise will bring, but also a strong sorrow for how her life had ended, and the hero’s murderous part in it.

 The hero did not enjoy taking someone’s life.

The hero truly wished that there could have been any other way.

But the warrior’s end had been a chaotic one.

And the hero wonders darkly, if it has pleased her.