TITLE: LIGHT OF DUSK
The night broke like a curse, smoke still lingered from the dead.
Even the sun, once a guardian, dared not rise.
And in the hollow silence of that failing light,
a scream tore through the wind—
"He is coming,BRUSURKER is coming!! Screams started to break the stilt of wind.
He stood still.
Upon a hill of broken bodies,
a spear lodged deep in his chest,
and yet—he did not fall.
His breath was shallow, but his gaze unshaken.
As if death were an old friend
he simply had no time to greet.
"Bring the water!"
"Now! The child is coming!"
The maid's hands trembled,
her voice cracking under the weight of fear and hope.
"It's a boy," she whispered.
But the woman on the bed—his mother—
was already gone,
eyes open, smiling at nothing... the way dreamers smile when they're too far to return.
"Run! All of you—RUN!"
Voices shattered in panic, but he did not move.
He had no mercy left to give.
No fear left to feel.
Only blood dripping down his chest like a vow.
"I was born for this," he muttered.
"To bleed... so others won't."
At the castle gate, a lone scout collapsed, gasping.
His eyes met the noblewoman's.
"My lady... not a single soul remains."
She stared into the burning horizon.
"Then may the gods pity the boy...
who entered this world as its last light faded."
And far above the silence,
the boy—grown into a beast of war—
closed his eyes.
He stood still among thousands of dead,
a bitter smile on his lips—
But not for long.
Not anymore.