Part IV: The First Day



	Knightfall stares down at the grave, eyes almost full with 
tears.  How could he let them kill you, he kept thinking.  That answer 
kept plaguing his mind.  If only i had done something differently...if 
only i was the one to be killed and not him.  
	He whispers something but was so quiet it was hard to hear.  
Did he say, "I'm sorry".  How can the man wih no emotions feel sorry 
for someone else?
	"How could i have let this happen...especially to you? If only 
i had came and helped you!  Why didn' t I? Why was i so f**kin 
stupid!?!" Knightfall questioned himself, his actions, his mind.  He 
let out a sigh of frustration as he flashes back to that dreaded 
day...when everything changes.

	The sun was beating down upon all the soldiers and knights.  
It has never grown so hot in these lands before.  The knights were 
lucky enough to be riding on horses but the soldiers had to walk 
through the hot road.  You could tell it was the Winshire troops by 
the moans and groans heard from the men.  Even the king himself could 
be heard complaining under his breath.
	Just a little further, up over that hill, and they would meet 
the barbarians and defend their land with honor and loyalty.  
Anticipating the future, every soldier readied themselves, holding 
their swords, their bows and arrows, their maces, their hearts in 
their hands.  They knew that if they died, they died defending their 
land for you get no better honor than that.
	They slowly climbed the hills, their feet and knees could 
feel the incline as they got up.  When they got to the top they 
saw...absolutely nothing.  Just a few trees hear and there but 
nothing out of the ordinary.  The troops were shocked and relieved at 
the same time.  
	The troops marched down the hill when, all of a sudden, a 
rain of arrows flew through the air.  You could see one by one the 
soldiers went down, the arrows going through their hearts and through 
their back.  It was plunged deep into them, no doctor could save them. 
 So, they fell, one by one like dominoes.
	You see the enemy's heads pop up from their hiding places, an 
evil grin on their faces.  As quick as light itself, one last person 
popped up...their leader.  He was as huge as a bear and twice as 
ugly.  When he smiled, there were only ten teeth in his mouth.  
He lifted his arm and shouted, "CHARGE! KILL THEM ALL!!!" and like a 
stampeding herd, they swooped upon the troops.
	"If you die, men, you die for what's right!  CHARGE!" 
commanded the king, a command heard over and over again in 
Knightfall's head.
	Sir Vincent galloped his horse ahead of everyone else, was it 
bravery or idiocy he doesn't know or care, he just did it out of 
instinct.  Almost every barbarian he passed, his sword slit through 
their throats and blood oozing out.  When he finally stopped, you can 
see a trail of blood following him and his horse.  He stared at a 
moment at how the troops were doing then started fighting himself.
	Galloping towards a group of barbarians, he let out a war 
cried that could of been mistaken as a lion's roar.  Halfway there, 
an arrow pierced the thigh of his horse and caused him to fall off 
his horse, the horse on the other hand laid down to rest a very long 
and peaceful rest.  Quickly, the barbarians came to attack.
	The first one came and thrust his sword but Sir Vincent 
quickly move out of the way.  The first barbarian cut  through the 
horse's chest instead and its intestines started falling out.  Sir 
Vincent quickly came behind him and sliced, first his opponent's arm 
and then his head.
	The second one was the stupid one.  He went straight on with 
his sword up in the air, trying to cut Sir Vincent in half but ran 
right into his sword.  He stared at him with a blank expression as 
blood came pouring out of his mouth.  He took the sword out of his 
chest and the second barbarian fell.
	Mocking the other barbarians, he licked the blood off his 
sword with his tongue, having a grin on his face.  The barbarians 
became swallowed with anger as they all ran to attack him.
	They were fighting their very best but couldn't compare with 
the skill of Sir Vincent.  In the middle of the battle he shouted to 
Sir WIlliams, "Tis thy most exciting day is it not, old friend?" The 
old friend didn't answer.  Searching for him, he found Sir Williams 
circling around...the leader.  He knew he should of helped him, he 
KNEW it in his heart...but he didn't.
	Slowly, one by one, each of the barbarians fell dead to his 
mighty sword.  Laughing hysterically, he turned around to find another 
victim but he heard a scream so deafening, so terrifying, it would 
have made Lucifer himself shiver.  He turned around and saw Sir 
Williams...on his knees.
	"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! MY HAND!!!!" Sir Williams screeched.  
It had been chopped right off with one swift move by the leader's 
sword.  The blood poured so much that it formed a huge puddle right in 
front of him.
	The next few seconds seemed like the next few hours as slowly 
the leader lifted his sword high into the air.  Sir Vincent should of 
ran to stop him, he could of made it and stopped him, but he didn't.  
He was paralized with fear.  Sir Williams couldn't defend himself, as 
he unwillingly stared up at the huge barbarian.
	The leader let out a quick snicker as he thrust the sword 
right into Sir Williams' skull.  Sir Williams' eyes rolled up to show 
only the whiteness...the innocent whiteness.  The sword stuck onto his 
skull like the excalibur stuck onto the rock.  Letting out a huge 
cackle, he pulled out the sword.  Then, adding insult to injury, he 
sent one last swing and decapitated the head altogether.  The body 
fell down like a rag doll, blood oozing out from every hole in the 
carcass.  The barbarian slowly kneeled down and picked up the head.  
Almost every fight seemed to stop  to bear witness to this moment.  
He lifted the head high into air, the expression on the face was pure 
terror.  Laughing, he threw it to Sir Vincent and, pointing, said, 
"You're next..."
	The whole area was filled with piles of dead bodies.  Each one
brutally killed off like they were ants but that didn't matter to Sir 
Vincent, he didn't even notice.  All he thought about was the leader 
and to avenge the friend's death.
	Everything he learned about swordsmanship, every strategy he 
learned on how to win, everything he used to have a successful victory 
was wiped clean off his memory.
	"AGRHHHHHHHH!!!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!!!!" as Sir Vincent charged 
at him while the beast found it amusing.
	He didn't see nor remember what he did for every move he 
threw out, the enemy countered and slit his skin.  The huge barbarian 
just mocked his opponent's every move, taunting him, raging him on.  
The more mad Sir Vincent got, the more the beast thought how funny the 
day was.
	Getting boring of the fight, the beast went full on.  The poor 
knight couldn't stand up to it as the sword sailed through his 
defenses and sliced through his chest.  Everything he saw turned 
fuzzy...then grey...then pitch darkness as he dropped to his knees, 
then, like every second was being watched by all, his head laid down 
to rest onto the ground.....