I'm still standing...

[The Great Kanohi Kraahkan]

I'm still standing...

The sky flashed bright white, revealing hundreds of warriors, he guessed over six hundred, clad mostly in blank armor, he saw spots of red from wear he was perched, among them were about one hundred or so mounted troops, most of them riding Rock steeds and they were all marching towards him. The rain poured down upon his body, feeling as if it was soaking his scarlet armor, rain drops rolled off his crimson helmet into his eyes, he looked towards his right, towards the other twin mountain, he saw a few of his troops, the rest of his battalian were well hidden. It was time, he moved swiftly down the mountain side, the rain weakened as he reached the base of the mountain, the clouds moved and dissapated, streaks of sunlight shone threw the mass of thunder clouds, bathing the mountain side in light, the warrior cursed under his breath, his troops were to take the opposing army down in the cover of the rain but now if they attacked them they would be fighting a losing battle. He had two choices : Number one, pull back and return to the village in defeat or Number two, push foward and cut through opposing ranks with battle cries on their lips. It didn't take long for him to decide, he singled to Praxa to advance, the battalian charged from the twin mountins, as the two sides clashed all hell broke loose. He hacked though the opposing ranks with his crude sword, he dispatched a mounted Skrall, he grabed a spear from the dead soldier's hands, he thrusted it into the side of a Rock steed as he snatched a long sword from the ground, two Skrall attacked from ether side of him, he blocked the right one with his crude sword and the left with the long sword he picked up, he struggled to hold of there combined strenght, he withdrew both swords and spun slashing at both the Skrall's stomaches. In all the chaos something flew past his head just missing him by a inch, he was knocked of his feet by a brute carring a broadsword. He found himself being pulled back, he looked up to see Perditus, Perditus stoped draging him and moved around him blocking a blow from a Skrall but was knocked a side by who he thought to be Stronius, he tried to get up but intead he howled out in pain as a Rock steed broke his arm, he tried to get up again but everything went black.

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He awoke in a dimly lit cave. He layed on a slabe of stone, facing upward, he felt a throbbing pain, and remembered what happened. He knew he shouldn’t be alive...but somehow, there he was. Felling a sharp sting in his left arm he let loose a slight cry. Looking to his left he saw Praxa mashing some herbs in a small bowl, the warrior looked over,"Oh...your awake!" Said Praxa with a hint of exciment in his voice.

"Yea" he said weakly.

"The entire battalion was wiped out..." he said with sarrow as he handed his commander a cup of water,"Your the one who sent each and every one of them to their deaths, when you could have given the retreat...so they could pull back and see their loved ones once more...you and you alone had the power to save each and every one of their lives but you didn't...because of your own personal pride"

Xiar recoiled, the words wern't spoken with hate or anger, but sadness, even though he wasn't dead, he felt empty. Empty and dead inside, he was their death, he sent them to thier deaths while he lived. He seemed to have no purpose or goal in life, happiness turned to nothing, what once had been a heart full of pride and joy was replaced with hate and thoughts of revenge. "I have to go" he said as he stood up.

"But your wounds aren't healed yet" Praxa said in protest.

"I don't care!" Xiar said emoitionless.

"Really?" Praxa asked, "You don't care about the ones who have just lost their lives? You may have gaven the order that sent them to their doom but they did it because they respected you they would follow you to your grave, I would follow you to the ends of the universe, we might have not tasted victory that battle but we took down five hundred of their troops considing there was only one hundred of us...if I were you I would be proud..."

Xiar stoped, a weak smile spread across his face,"Mabey I'm to proud...to proud to let them go..." he said in sorrow,"Just to proud..."

He walked outside, and looked at the looked at the carnage of dead soldiers, Stronis's army didn't even bury their own troops, he swiftly moved down the mountian, without his armor he was more swift and fluid, as he reached the bottom, he saw two his close friends, Travana and Craxia, he took a flat stone and started digging, he kept digging into the night, at first day break, he finished the grave and placed Travana in it, he pushed the dirt over his dead friend, after that he took two pieces of wood and made a crude makeshift sign, he carved the name Travana, after that he kept on digging with the help of Praxa, he dug graves for each of his fallen comrades, he dug graves for each enemy soldier and dug graves for each Rock steed to have fallen in the battle.

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Once he was done the desert was a graveyard, about six hundred graves littered the ground. "Praxa..." he asked,"Do you think we did a good enough job?"

"A good enough job" Praxa asked in desbelief,"We spent six months digging these graves...yes we did do a good job..."

He payed one final respect to his falled comrades with a staff in hand and a broken arm by his side, he limped off towards the horizon. Praxa caught up with him and walked along side his commander, the Legendary Xiar.