---------------------------ACT 1----------------------------
THE WARRIOR
There are some people in this world, who are born to weigh others expectations. They live up to the words "The strong is born to protect weak."
In The lands filled with greenery, the chirps of birds singing a melody. The heaven's nectar flowed down to the land. Illuminated by a star in sky.
The sun was bright.
The clouds were mesmerizing like cotton balls.
The field of corn were shining bright, the sunflower were dancing in the fields. The farmers were sharing ears to each other. Playing cards, and living.
Living, a simple term yet unfound meaning. What is living? What is purpose? Does living means to live for yourself? Or others?
That is what always stirred up in a knight's mind. A royal knight who was always patrolling in the city.
His day started with wearing a heavy rusty but loyal metal armour. He grabbed the hilt of his sword, and walked out.
As the sun starts to rise, it's sunlight illuminating on the knight's armour. Everyone in the first district considered him their sun.
The moment his armour use to shine, everyone wakes up.
Starting with an old man in his bread shop, giving the knight a warm bread in the cold of the early dawn.
His armour echoed in the erie of the morning.
He walked near a window hearing some hisses and voices.
"It's time to wake up. Get up or your children will see you like this." With this call. He walked.
The window opened, as inside were two flowers tangled together. Germinating a new seed.
The knight reached open market. The circle where transports and trades happen. In this early, only few were setting their shops.
The knight stood in the center, unsheathing his sword. The tip of the sword shone brightly.
He tightened his grip on the sword and swung it. Once, a slash in middle slicing through air.
Second, horizontally forcing his arms to stretch and warm up. Then a stance with sword facing the heaven. A leg in front, body leaned.
Then one step forward and a slash. He practiced continuously until the sun rose high. The crowd thickened and he walked in different districts patrolling.
He was waving his hand at everyone who smiled at him, he let a child touch his sword, a child tied a balloon to his sword's hilt.
As he was in the market, a tap on shoulder faster than anything came. He quickly grabbed his sword's hilt and moved back as if unsheathing it. Then he stopped, he was calm because the one who tapped on his back was a friend.
But he wasn't stopped because of that. The eyes which seemed happy, joyful and familiar. Felt different.
The mother of the children who were playing with the knight seemed the kindest person yet her eyes were sharper than anything else at that time.
One, five, ten, eighteen, fifty.. Eyes from every direction looked at him with an uneasiness as if waiting for..him to do a single bad.
He knew. People are good with him as long as he is perfect and protecting. The moment the slightest mistake happens even the most friendly person could stab him.
There were eyes like strings restricted his slightest movement. He was tied as a puppet than a guardian.
As for his friend. "How many times do I have to repeat for you that never come for me by the back." The knight looked at him through the helmet's designed cuts.
"Hey Rasalas! Forgive me this time.." He joined his hands above his head.
"Why don't you apply for a week's off? You've been working since nearly a year everyday!" He grabbed Rasalas's shoulder's and shook him a bit.
"No! They believe in me. I can't abandon them. If you want. I am not forcing you, you should apply for a leave. Fluthael." Fluthael smirked and bumped his fist on Rasalas's armour.
"That's why everyone trusts you big man! Keep it up, I know you can do it."
With those words left lingering in Rasalas's mind. Fluthael left.
Rasalas turned back and walked for the next district.
His armour clanked in the streets, the birds chirped up high.
As he was present physically among others, but his mind was with us.
Thinking about his past he thought something. Memories were floating in his head, scrambled like threads. If I had to summarise, he thought.
A child walking in a rainstorm,
Hid under the shade of two petals.
As the sun rose, he tried to reach the horizon.
The two petals dried, just in 7 minutes of life.