Come and read! Come and read Marcheroi's short story!
shouts a street child with a stack of newspapers.
An elderly woman arrives and buys one, wearing a courteous smile.
It was early,
She sits down on a bench with pretty ornaments.
The leaves fall like the days.
‘Habib and Laetitia Monomon are fighting in Zone 1 and Artannes' troops
Have unified the last peasant town.
All are under the banner of The Walkers, led by Habib.’
In just one month, this young man has shown us many miracles.
And to think that my daughter follows him closely.
She hasn't let it get her down and is even scarlet.
I wonder when she'll be back to tell me all those stories where courage is the key to safety.
The rain comes down like arrows.
‘Hurry, Ruh says the battle must be over in less than ten minutes, hurry!
As the two armies clashed, two horsemen
rode around everyone,
Hidden by the waves,
They were Laëtitia and Habib.
‘Another 100 metres ‘bib!
Habib nodded and continued running.
‘Right, we'll split up now that we've gone round.
I'm off to deal with the general, mow down their army in the back.
- I'm going to kill them!’
Monomon charges from his side.
His was a long spear with a golden triangular emblem
On the silver blade that would pierce
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Flesh and blood in its wake.
Movements of great fluidity,
You'd think you were watching a martial arts master.
But all of a sudden, just as she had taken down
The entire defence line of the First Zone, humiliated
A man with a huge shield leapt up and slaughtered Laëtitia's horse.
He was able to leap to another horse before glancing at it.
He had long white hair. His body was scarred as if he had spent 7 winters in combat. His blue eyes plunged into those of the general of the Walkers.
‘I wasn't supposed to leave my quarters,
But if I had, you would have won.
Your strategy is interesting, but it...’
Despite the thunder of the clashes,
the stranger hears Habib return,
then disappears into the rain.
The Walker returns with the general's body at arm's length.
‘It's done. Good work, Laetita.
We can switch on the signal.
- I'll take the brightest one, so that it's visible despite the lack of light.’
The woman lights a bamboo, protecting it as best she can.
A grey smoke gradually rises into the sky.
And Habib sets off to finish off the remnants of the opposing army.
. . . . .
The Walkers had set up camp.
The rain had stopped,
The fire had risen
And the feast pronounced.
Glory to Habib and Laetitia, our benefactors!
Archal down!
Laetitia hugged the founder.
It had become clear that their relationship was not just military.
‘What if we married Archal after our victory, my dear?
- Oh, I see you're very enterprising, my goodness!’
Dance, voluptuousness and lightness after such a bloody battle!
In a way, it was surprising,
that the Walkers had ascended in just
30 days.
And yet, far away and alone.
Ruh was in his tent, watching with one eye.
His weak, pathetic body could barely stand.
He had the pitiful appearance of a nobody.
His body was atrophied and so hideous that he had to hide it.
Ruh wore a mask and bandages all over his body.
He could feel the weight of his bones cracking with every movement he made.
His greying skin made him cry out in agony,
If only he had the strength to scream.
From his far-flung tent,
he was witnessing the success of his gifted little brother.
He wished he wasn't on the sidelines so much.
But Lea was still his priority.
So his frail hand slid along the entrance canvas;
Accompanying a few tears.
He turns round and walks towards his bed.
Takes a match and lights it.
Stares at the bright flame.
Soft warmth caresses his moist cheeks.
Takes a few pages.
His quill.
And writes.
History.
Too weak to rage.
Is Taciturn.
In rhyme.
For its own sake.