"Is...is this the ending for me? Am I going to die just.. just like this? Is this the ending waiting for me? I don't want to die, not...not like this. My eyes... ugh.. they are hurting... too heavy for me to let them stay open I… I jus..."

...

"Kill anyone who is still breathing. No one can leave this war ground on their own feet," said a soldier in a very commanding and loud voice. "Even if the war has ended, we must not let anyone escape." He looked a little more high-ranked than the rest of the group. 

The group of five or six troops who were still searching the ground filled with crimson color blood nodded together to the command of their leader. And spoke with an incredibly energetic tone, "Yes, Sir!"

Debris of the war was terribly scattered around. Lifeless bodies hideously besmeared with blood were rolling on the ground. The tattered flags fluttered with the wind giving off the feeling of sorrow and pride. Numerous broken weapons were spread over various places. Some swords and bows pierced the bodies of many soldiers and non-soldiers, making them bleed rivers of scarlet blood. 

The few walking soldiers were searching that lifeless ground so that they would kill anyone who dared to stay alive. Those men in uniform were killing mercilessly even the dead bodies to make sure that no one would survive.

After the terrifying war, everywhere the mountains of the corpse were lying down; it looked like a place of hell on earth. No matter how far human sight could see they would only see the ocean of scarlet blood, dead bodies, or those who were still struggling because of their deep and grave wounds. Humans of all ages, all genders, and of all status were dead or miserably dying with every passing second.

The overwhelming stench of blood had been mixed in the air. No one could tell that this hell used to be a green and lively place with hundreds of humans - where these people's cheerful voices filled the whole place with buoyant happiness in the past.

And now, by the look of the land, anyone could tell that the war which happened here must have been frightening to death. The scenery could make even demons tremble like leaves in storms.

In the chaotic and dead zone, there was a land where an awkward silence had been surrounded. That silence was weird and had strong killing intent. It looked like there wouldn't be any living person left there - it was lifeless without any sign of any life.

When it seemed that everything settled with time passing, abruptly a deafening but clear sob started coming from a nearby dump of dead bodies. It was the cry of a child. He looked very young, maybe just a three or four years old kid who had never seen any war before. 

Filthy clothes and wounds were all over him, blood was rolling down from his head. He was crying while searching the dead bodies with terror in his eyes and shaking limbs; trying so insanely to find someone who he called "Baba".

"Baba...Pitaa-Shri, where are you?" In a very broken and woeful voice, he was shouting for his father. However even after so much yelling and screaming for his father no one answered him. His crying grew louder and louder with more and more tears in his small eyes. 

In his tiny heart, he knew his father was no longer here. He knew now no one would ever answer his call for help. Now his father has left him for eternity. Despite knowing this fact he was still searching that place with his soft and fragile hands as if he would surely find him. His tears were still scrolling down from his plump cheeks because maybe he was aware of the deathly situation of his.

Just some fifty or so meters away from the child a body that seemed to be dead started moving. It moved though there was no strength left in the body, however, it sluggishly tried to lift up its head, with trembling lips he said, "Wh... Who is cry...ing?"

It was the body of a man who wasn't that much of age. His eyes were closed, he looked young like eighteen or nineteen but his real age was unknown. Even so, he had a strong aura around him - it was as if this person was powerful and stubborn enough to not die that easily.

His clothes were shredded to the point that only some part of his body was covered which made his pure white-skinned body more visible to the eyes. He was lying on his stomach while his broad shoulders and back had many severe cuts and wounds.

His right side face was buried in the ground of blood. Even when only half of his face was showing, he still looked attractive, his sharp features which were covered in blood made his looks more striking. The clothes of his were soaked in vermilion blood; who knows how many people's blood was over him?

He opened his eyes slowly. The sound of a child's weep made him look around. He wanted to see who was still alive in this graveyard, hence he gathered his little remaining strength to move his head a little higher to see in the direction of the weeping child.

His long limbs were broken badly, a string of blood was leaking out of his mouth. He had blood in his eyes which made him a little scary, it made his sight a bit blurry as well. With the last strength in his broken hands, he tried to look a bit higher. Supporting his body with his hands while balancing his upper body, he glanced around.

At first, he couldn't even see the closest corpse but then after blinking his eyes two or three times his eyesight became a little better than before. It was still blurry which made him only see some silhouette of the entire place. He slowly rubbed his left eye with his left hand then right eye with the same hand for a more clear vision.

The cry of that child was still as loud and clear as before. After rubbing his eyes his sight finally became clear in some seconds. Lastly, he saw that child who was crying like there was no end to his cry.

Clang.

The man's eyes widened after hearing that sound. His heart almost stopped beating because that was the sound of unsheathing a powerful long sword.

The person who unsheathed the sword was wearing clothes of expensive silk with many beautiful embroideries all over the clothes which were made of real gold thread. That person could be described as an attractive young man, but he had a dark face like he was ready to kill anyone without even blinking an eye. He was standing behind that brittle kid. The child didn't notice him because his whole focus was on his father.

Swish.

Just like cutting the air with just one swing of his sword, he ruthlessly cut off the neck of that unfortunate child with no visible expression.

"NO!" The man stretched out his hand as he wanted to stop that swordsman but he was late. He had no power to even stand on his own legs anymore, therefore, he fell on the ground like his soul was snatched out of his body after witnessing the horrific scene. His chest tightened and his heart burned uncontrollably. 

Thud, Thud, Thud. In frustration he punched the ground until his left hand started to bleed more than ever, tears were falling from his eyes like an overflowing waterfall. His nails poked his palm with rage. He screamed and screamed until his own voice started to resonate in his head. 

Some time passed after the incident. After calming down a bit, he noticed that that vicious swordsman was gone.

He again tried to see that child's body but he could not because that child's beheaded body had fallen somewhere on the ground he did not know about. Maybe that child's body was surrounded by many adult dead bodies which were bigger than the child's body which made it impossible to find the little child ever again. He was scanning around to find that kid's head which was ripped off, however, he could not find it either.

Why...why am I even alive? To see a ...to see a scene like that like some mute onlookers? He thought. The hair on his body rose on its ends. 

Some noise entered his ears; it was the sound of birds. It was not the ears pleasing sound that small birds make, rather it was the sound of big man-eater vultures flapping their wings over some lifeless bodies. They were coming to the war zone because of the smell of blood. Those vultures were just five in counting but they could still shake anyone's heart with boundless fear. Though they were flying far away from him thus it wasn't a big threat to him or anyone around him. Moreover, those vultures became busy eating some dead bodies which were near the end of his sight.

He had no idea what he should do after watching another gruesome act right in front of him. An uneasy yet heavy feeling crawled to his stomach. He shut his eyes due that was all he could do while feeling his body going numb. 

That white-skinned man was lying prone like before, eyes sealed. He felt useless because he did not even save an innocent child from a tragic end. With a heavy and grief-filled heart he closed his mouth, his conscience screaming at him and cursing him. His tears were still streaming down from his eyes, mixed with blood, hence it looked like he was crying out tears of blood.

A drop of something fell upon his left cheek. His eyelids were still down so he thought that that was a drop of rain. He caressed it with his left hand but he felt the consistency of it was a little different than of rainwater. 

He opened his eyes to see his hand which touched that cheek of his. In a low voice, he murmured, frowning, "Blo...blood?" He wasn't shocked but surprised to see blood on his hand because it was not the blood he had on him as the result of the war - it was the drop that fell upon him from the sky. He tried to look upward in the sky to see from where this blood on him came. 

His eyes broadened like they would fall out any moment. He was so shocked looking up that he even forgot to blink his eyes. His heartbeat stopped for a moment. He forgot to breathe. His body was paralyzed seeing the hideous view. One of those vultures was carrying that child's head which was beheaded cruelly. That vulture was carrying that kid's head by his ponytail in its huge beak, the blood was dripping down from the neck of the small kid!

Time did not flow for him. A teardrop slightly streamed down from his right eye, the teardrop slowly rolled down touching his cheek, no words came out his mouth because his mind was blank. He felt an ache in his abdomen; he had never felt that impotent in his entire life.

He shrieked in his head. If only...if only I had died before witnessing such a...such a devastating scene it would have been better, a lot better. He punched the ground again, more blood flowed out of the wounds on his palm. 

After a while, the entire war ground fell silent again. Those vultures and soldiers were also gone after getting what they wanted.

It was evening, even the sky started to cover up in crimson color; the sun was setting. Now it was vermilion everywhere, no matter whether you looked up or down.

It looked beautiful, dreadfully beautiful.

"Ad... Ad... Ad...Vik..."

It seemed as if someone was calling for someone, the voice was clear yet indulged with despair and pain. That voice reached that white-skinned man, he hastily started to look for the person who was calling, "Is... ugh... is someone calling my name? Did I hear it right?" A mouthful of blood leaked out of his mouth when he spoke. 

At first, he thought that he heard it wrong and it was just his delusion but the voice came again to his ears.

"Ad… vik, Advik"

That other person kept calling for him. After hearing so many times he was sure who that person could be.

It looked like the white-skinned man identified the other person, he tried to examine the place again to see where that person might be. Brightness could be seen all over his face, it was like every time the other person called they sent some energy or hope for him.

He was happy, anxious, desperate, he was feeling so many mixed emotions together in his heart, it twinkled his whole face. He was still an attractive man even with so much blood and wounds but now he became a lot more handsome than ever because of his huge smile and tearful eyes. This time those tears were of happiness. He was happy just by hearing that voice. His smile, like the soft moonlight which could calm anyone who would glance at him for even a moment. 

With haste, he tried to get up on his feet but he had no strength left in him. The second he put his hand on the ground to support his body, his torso felt so heavy that his hands couldn't handle his own weight and he fell down. Afterward, he again came to this position and finally firmly placed his legs on the land. And with quivering limbs, he tried to rise again.

At last, when he was on his feet again, he coughed and a mouthful of blood spread in the air.

Thud.

With a loud sound, he again dropped down. It was his tenth time trying to get up, though his broken body couldn't support him any further, every time he was trying to be on his feet he was falling.

He lost his balance because of his coughing and fell on his chest again. He glanced in the direction from where the voice was coming, clenching his fist so crazily that his veins were visible he again tried to straighten up himself. Despite the melancholy soaking his heart he repeatedly tried to stand on his weak limbs. He desperately wanted to go where that person was, who was laying down ten or so meters away.

I have...I have to go where His Highness is. I can't stop right now. I don't want to stop right now. He was staring in the direction of that familiar voice while he was on the ground again, lying down on his chest. He clutched his hands, in his mind he thought, "I want to see His Highness. I want to make sure that His Highness  is alright." In frustration, his tears again started to roll down. He started hitting the ground with his head, the anger for himself clouded his whole being.

"What was the meaning of having that much power when I did not even protect His Highness?" He rested his head on the ground after some hit, tears stopped but the prints of it were gleaming in his face. His heart was thumping like a thunderstorm.

"Ad... Ad... Ad..."

He heard the voice again but had no strength to do anything anymore. His gaze fixed on his already bleeding fist. While scowling he tightened it to point to wreck the lines of his hand. Tears left his eyes silently. I deserve this… Your Highness. 

Dictionary:

1. Baba: Father (Informal) 

2. Pitaa-Shri: Father (Formal)