In Silence We Fight

Short story that I've worked on for a while. Many drafts; this is the latest one. I need someone to be real and tell me if this is a good story, a crap story, or maybe a story with some potential

In Silence We Fight

The smell of sweat and beach beside them. Their sandals sinking in the sand. The two warriors must only be fifteen yards apart. The tides are becoming more and more treacherous Those fifteen yards have the best view for the fight of fate that brings the two warriors together. Their weapons are some of the finest in the world. Fate had decided the two could not exist while the other one was alive; there can only be one.

A modestly curved scimitar in one's sheath. A straight jian sword across the way. Both have light leather armor on them. These warriors need room to move, these warriors are too good to be bogged down with heavy armor. They can dodge a strike just as good as they can throw one.

The fight that was inevitable, they both knew this. What their bad blood was about is not even important anymore. What matters is these two, right at this very moment. Two are in the scene but only one will be left at the end. To the death. His life or yours; which one would you choose?

In one's mind:

This is it. There's no turning back now. It's him or it's me. I can't make any mistakes. Even the slightest lack of focus could be the end for me. I can't underestimate him, and the one thing to hope for is that he's underestimating me. Don't touch your sword, let him be the first. Yes I see now he's too concerned with the moves ahead that he has forgotten the present. Watch him. Even the move of his chest when he is breathing. Watch. Observe. Examine.

But on the other side of the sands

He is so foolish. He's off, but he doesn't know it. I'm sure he is thinking exactly what I am going to do. Look. He doesn't even have his sword ready. This isn't the training academy. Here you must always be prepared and always ready to stare death in it's face. And I see it too. Death is just above his left shoulder. Wait, am I only the opening act while death is headlining. If death wants to take that man that is meant to be. But I have qualms about opening for death. Death is not my friend. I wonder if he sees the same thing. Death right above my left shoulder waiting for him to do his vanishing act. I'm good, but is he better? Never be so proud that you forget that you are not perfect as well.

Facing each other so close that they can see the fine lines on skin from ones face. Lines formed from battles and wars and fights. They look older than they are. From the stress. Marks from fear of their lives are now obsolete. The warriors haven't felt fear in a long time, or maybe they are constantly in fear so much that their minds and bodies have been conditioned, so now fear is part of their baseline. At the fight the silence between them grows louder.

Now. Draw your sword now. Enough is enough. The time has come. The end has come. I draw my sword. I see it. I see it in his face his just as ready as I am. How can I win? How can he win? We both have just as much drive for the same thing. At that is to survive. That's all it really boils down is; is my life more important than his? Or is it not about importance, is it how far we are willing to go.

Finally. He has drawn his sword. This is about to begin. From here on out every second, every other passing second will be the most important second of my entire pathetic excuse for a life. But it's still my life none-the-less. Who is he to decide that he suddenly has the power to choose the fate of my life. At lass, what is this that crosses my mind. Is it a sign of confusion about why I am in this mess. For who's to say that I have the power to decide his fate.

What's this he's trying to pull. A trick. Why does he have that look on his face. A look that he's letting his guard down. Why? That's exactly what he wants me to think, he wants me to underestimate him. This is it. Be careful. Watch out for this, but this is the moment, I know it. One, two, NOW!

If you had blinked at that exact moment you would have missed it. With one swift motion the warrior drew his sword, and with as little steps as possible pounced on the other warrior just paces away.

Oh no. Here he comes. What am I going to do? I have no time to answer that. Stupid you're wasting time. S**t. Do something. Do something! What?! Alright This is what you have to do. Draw your sword. His first attack will be for my kill so this is important. Ready? Ready!

The battle finishes the overture and the real moves begins. The sound of the iron clashing harmonizes with the waves crashing besides them. Again and again. Each taking their turn on the offensive. Each being calculative on not only their move but on each other's. Warriors have no fences in their fighting; everywhere is fair game. Every tactic every trick they have learned they use. Using all their physical force as well as all their wisdom and knowledge. By the looks of the fight you could tell both of them were worthy opponents for each other. They are more inside of the others head than there are in their own.

Stay confident. You got him.

Stay with him, don't lose momentum

With a decisive act and probably with a good deal of luck on his side one of the warriors knocks the other to his feet which causes the warrior to tumble to the ground. The time has come for the kill.

This is it. It's finally over. I can live in peace. This part of my destiny will soon be over. Wait there's that feeling again.

He's got me. At least I can say I tried. At least I can say I fell fighting, with a sword in my hand, but wait there's that look again. What's he doing, why hasn't he finished me.

Is it my destiny to put another life to an end. That can be no one's destiny. That is something that only fate can decide, such a decision is not meant to be made by a human. A human is not wise enough, but what can I do, he'll kill me if I don't. It doesn't matter. A man's dignity is worth much more than the extent of his life.

With the warrior on the ground with the tip of the others blade just poking at his throat. If the blade moved not even an inch it would pierce his skin and send him into a bleed and that would make this moment in time for good. A blade; a simple blade made of metal has now partial power in deciding the warriors fate.

I can't do it. But finally the last moments of this line of fate has come with unexpected results. I now have a new option. An option that my eyes had not been open to before. The option to end this feud with peace. That is if that option is open to my fellow warrior. Put your sword down.

The waves calm.

Almost comes to a surprise to both warrior the blade that has so much power is brought away from a lethal position. The warrior with the blade raises it. The blade drops. The warrior, just dropping the blade makes no look of regret. Nods at his fellow opponent. With a sense of understanding the disabled warrior nods back not in gratitude for his life being spared, but for being the one to end the feud the way it was always meant to be ended. With peace. And with a story that could end in no other way, the two warriors walking in separate directions have only one thought in their mind-

Hope you have a good life

Author's Note

I need someone to be real and tell me if this is a good story, a crap story, or maybe a story with some potential