At the end of the battle, At the end of the storm (Pt. 1)

This was not written by me. This was written by The Magician, chronicling what he witnessed. He saw a man falling.

Here we sit, busying ourselves in these cubicles as the world passes us by from our windows. But suddenly one day, we barely catch the fleeting glimpse of a person falling outside the thin plane of glass. What are we to think of him, this man who so quickly both entered and left our lives?

This is not my story, nor is this my chronicle. This is a testament to what I observe of him. He stands alone now, before this trial that is his and no one else's. This is how he shall fall, if he holds the strength to do so.

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I saw this man stagger towards the abyss. This tired and strained soul made his way through the uncaring dust and dirt, dragging a nicked and bloodied sword by the hilt in his hand, letting the blade trail behind him and part the dirt into a single carved line. This man, clad in dull plated armor pulled himself to the edge of the chasm, high above whatever lay below. A narrow strip protruded from the end of the cliff, a lone oasis of solidity amidst a bottomless and empty trench of air.

This man trudged onto the weak bridge of stone and stood, letting the vicious winds buffet him without end. The breeze shrieked between the layers of his armor; pushing and swaying him side to side, trying to hurl him off into the gaping maw below. But still he stood, unable to even raise his sword or even a hand. The blows came without end, sapping his already depleted strength. All until the last one came, the final strike. With seamless motion his lean became unfooted and he tipped off the narrow strip of land. The armored figure tumbled off, now rushing towards the great end. He was falling.

I stepped forward, my foot landing on empty space. Yet I remained upright, even as I brought my other foot forward and likewise atop the void. Unbound by the rules of gravity, I hovered, and only at my own volition did I unhurriedly float down to the plummeting figure.

"Why?" the man croaked, "Why is it you fly? Why can I not?"

I stared with no other answer to give him. The question was a pointless one, he knew the reply before he had asked; he had always known. "Because, I am not mortal."

The fallen warrior plunged deeper into the abyss. I hovered in place, seeing no need to follow him down. He rolled within the air, rushing past his body as that pierced into its cushion-less embrace. He fumbled for his sword, clumsily clasping it in both hands. I stared on.

He screamed, but this was no scream of fright. This was not a resigned yell. Nay, this was the shout one cries before charging the dragon, the war-cry that releases the excess might overflowing in your veins as you stand firm and strike the enemy. He turned himself over so as to face the sheer rock face and jammed the blade in. An explosion of sparks and the cacophonous agony of metal and stone shrieked through the air. Yet he pushed inwards, trying to cut the stone asunder hopelessly with his shaken weapon. He slowed, but his descent continued; the fall went on.

The blade could take no more and snapped in two, and he ricocheted away from the side of the rapidly passing cliff. The half within his hands was snatched away, and he again fell freely towards the cold ground below. He urged his plummeting body face down and glared right back at the mud-brown fate awaiting him.

"Come!" he yelled at it, "Come on!" he dared.

He roared again, that same bellow that challenges the giant's thunder. "Bring it on!" he urged so brazenly, and released all the feeling in his body in a single, unending cry of defiance. As that ran out, he emptied his soul into the challenging scream. He brought his right elbow forward, bracing it with his other palm, readying himself for one final strike against that which he could not fight against. Gravity may be pulling him down into oblivion's bosom, like the raging current of a river that cannot be overcome. Yet he was choosing where, and how, to swim.

I watched him go down.

Author's Note

I usually proofread my works, however as always I'm sure there are typos and syntax errors. I appreciate any and all notices of that, and will work to correct those. If I haven't do know that I did acknowledge your notice and try implementing it, but found that it detracted from the effect I wanted and so omitted it.