The Hunt: Bloodlines

Chapter 1

Falling

          It was in the waning hours of the day that spelt an end to a battle that had raged on for days on end. He staggered up a small hill, as the sounds of brutalised men sounded behind his back, and looked over the Kingdom of Shigu Siuna. For days, he had led his men against the plucky little villagers of the Tamers in a fierce confrontation against those numerous, unskilled but incredibly spirited warriors and was losing his legions, and indeed himself, to their unyielding endurance. His men had been reduced to a handful of soldiers cowering behind rocks and and on trees, spears sticking out of them like a malicious growth, arrows tearing through their hearts like love gone sour. It was not a lost battle of course, but it looked no closer to victory, and with the spear burning a hole through his heart and throwing out blood in violent fits and jets, defeat needed not to be the death of those Tamers.
          Now, as the sun set, Kemaa stood against a tree and watched the furious red sunset blaze on his Kingdom. His face, streaked with sweat and blood, soiled with the dirt of battle, glowed along with the fire of the setting sun. A sad smile crawled on his dry, pale lips. Defeat shone from his dying eyes. Something then burst from his eyes. Tears. Plenty of them. In the fading light of daylight, he saw it. Just as The Hunters had tamed, subdued and conquered others, so would they be conquered. It was a cycle, and their time was coming. The mighty felled. But when their time came, they fell too. It was the inevitable truth. Not matter how mighty one was, no community and its structures was immortal.
         With that, he closed his eyes and slid down the tree to the ground with a hard thump. Dead.

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