A bright light flashed above in the sky, too bright to make out anything before it faded for a short time before once again shining! It was dimmer before becoming dim enough to see. It was a hand, a young boy’s hand, covering his face from the sunlight beaming upon him from above. The light was no longer an issue as the boy felt a pain in his chest and weakness across his body. Without needing to look too far down the young boy noticed a wooden protrusion in his chest. It was an arrow. The realization of this hit the boy as much as the pain from the wound. The young boy felt several more instances of similar pain throughout his entire body. He couldn’t quite figure out how many but it hadn’t matter. The young boy, looking up at the clear blue sky, stared at the heavens as he realized his inescapable fate.
Death. He did not know how to feel or respond to this realization for it was far worse than discovering an arrow in his torso. His body wanted to shake but it simply couldn’t, his strength and vitality were quickly fading away like the light above. Did his eyes open just to close again? Each blink felt eternal and he had idea if this one was going to be his last. Thoughts of his family filled his mind as the pain and feeling of his body was becoming numb and cold. He had a mother, a father, and a brother. A farm he loved and swore to protect, along the rest of his kingdom; for his kingdom. He hadn’t fought a single man but was slayed before he could draw his sword. Another mother lost her son to the awful hands of men. While this boy was a person, an individual, a soul, to everyone else he was just a nameless son who’s body was apart of the floor on a battlefield. Now the sky becomes dimmer, the blues fade into gray and the gray into black. Eventually the lights burn out, Death has taken another son.
While his name would not be remembered, hopefully his actions will, along with his fallen comrades beside him.