The battle cries; The swinging swords; Cleaving halberds; Even death's opening doors.
It all came to a complete stop.
Enemies from both sides, frozen in time. All looking towards him. The man shining brightest with hate and honor. No, not the hero. Instead the mighty warrior, With an ode to a king to claim the sacred lands.
Arrows arching, painting the sky black. Red rivers running, beneath the bodies of the fallen. Burning; burning; burning smoke, filling the air. The smell of death hanging near.
He changed that day. The day he turned on his rage.
Legend insists to say. He was the reason they won the war that day.