All or Nothing

FIGHT

Whenever I feel the scratchy wood of my sword's hilt rest upon my palm, my heart begins to pump ferociously.

My maroon eyes seem brighter in the reflection upon the blade.

The ruby jewel in my sword's pommel burns with a passion mirroring my own soul.

The fight is what I live for. It's the only reason I'm still around, and so I will push forward and coat this beacon of steel in fresh blood.

FLIGHT

My sword clatters to the ground, blood still dripping from its cracked blade.

The setting sun rests behind the enemy. The grass is tinted red by the guts of my allies. My heart slows to a crawl.

They hadn't seen me yet. I could still strike. I could still fight. I could still avenge them. It would only be right. Right?

I left. I ran.

They all shamed me when I returned. The wives slapped me. The children were hurried away when I walked past. The men reopened my stitched wounds. None showed favour to me, and neither did I to myself.

It was all or nothing, and I chose nothing...

FREEZE

"Why are you living?"

The cold water ripples down the river bank.

"What a disgrace..."

My feet teeter over the stone bricks of the bridge.

"How could you abandon them?"

My hands are strangely still in the freezing cold.

"You must join them".

My sullen eyes rest behind shut eyelids.

"You can't quit here."

"Their deaths are on your hands."

"You can't quit here."

"And you must wash them clean in turn."

"You can't quit here."

"You have no right to leave!"

I freeze. I step back from the ledge. Tears pool in my eyes.

"Forgive me."

And so, again, I pick up my sword, for the fight never ends.