Moments of Passing

II.

His was flora, forest and field. The keeper of rolling hills and sunlit vales.

The sun was rising, harsh and fierce in the smoke filled sky. Their city lay in ruins behind them as the treacherous path twisted and turned underfoot, spiralling ever upwards. The child in his arms was heavy, his armour bloodied.

The child handed away, he pushed past his lord as the towering black figure of flame faced them. He waved the others back, standing tall and resplendent in the sun.

Shale scattered, feet danced nimble and quick on crumbling ledges, hearts thudded as sword leapt and flew.

The mountains echoed with his final defiant cry even as he fell. He glimpsed them safe, then closed his eyes.