The two archers stood facing each other in a field of flowers. The field was encircled by a horizon of tight nit trees.

The archers stood in silence. Their fight ends now, neither planned to run.

Their waiting bore fruit, the night had ended, and the sun was shy from peeking.

The archers pulled out their bows from their back. Knocking the arrows in position.

The sunshine blasted its light onto the flower field. The sun lit up the flowers. The flower’s color glowed red, the field of flowers become a massive pool of blood. The archers seemingly fountains of blood. The fight was a blood debt.

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The archers pulled their bows to the sky, together the archers released the arrows.

Now they waited.

The arrows flew up, and up and up, and then loosing all strength. The arrows flopped down. They picked-up speed like vultures in the sky, sky nosing down. The arrows were for blood.

The archers waited standing still. Their bodies planted into the ground, they only swayed to the wind like the scarlet flowers that surrounded them.

The arrows swooshing down, their prey were the largest two flowers. Their tips struck target.

The archers’ heads bloomed and together the field of flowers bloomed . The archers fingers bloomed loosened and theirs bows plotted down onto the earth.

The eyes lost light and the bodies stood unmoving. A strong current blew, and the giant flowers were stomped.

The blood pool waves stopped. The fountains were no more, the waves were no more.

Only now is the red field of flowers and the trees surrounded it.