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Dharmayudh - The Holy War
Dharmayudh - The Holy War

© Aniruddh Iyer


4 Minutes   47.0K    467

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A rupture of moonstone-yellow light appeared in the carnal black sky. The sky was damnation black. Our new armours flashed like moonstone fire, our new shields gleamed like star flame and our swords glinted like diamond frost, but hearing our enemies banging and bashing was a spine chilling moment. The starless sky was casket-black and brooding. Even the clouds seemed morose. Gelid hands clasped algid steel as we gasped upon our foe. The cold, north wind keened and mewled through both the valley and the souls of our men. The clouds cleared. Their spears glimmered cruelly under the eerie opalescent moon. Its phantom flame sent ribbons of chrysalis –silver light spilling into the upraised shields of our men.

The monsters swarmed and swayed below us like corn in a field, yet it seemed there was more of them than a thousand bushels could hold. Our commander raised our proud pennant aloft in defiance. It represented our dreams, our lives and our salvation. If it was taken, it would mean we were dead.

They crashed upon the castle walls as our commander screamed "Har Har Mahadev” with him, we soldiers roared “Har Har Mahadev” in perfect synchronization. Their iron-shod feet clapped off the frozen ground like the rumbling of thunder. A tempest wicked, barbed fire arrows soared into the somber sky. They sizzled and sizzled before hitting their targets. Fountains of crimson magma- red blood sprayed into the air. It was butchery. We hoped that we survived the day.

There was blood on my knuckles and a bruise above my right eye. Blood oozed out of numerous wounds in my face and arms, a small but relentless flow of crimson but however, I felt no pain. I couldn’t think straight. I had lost my swords. My spear lay far from me embedded deep down an enemies’ torso tearing off armour ripping through bones and flesh. I was bare handed. They said we had hell to pay but I got what was our hope. Liberty and freedom could be seen somewhere close. A hope of victory rose up. Numerous arrows hurried down my limbs, swords cut me apart. But I was alive, I could still give in all I had for a few more minutes. I repaid every enemy by punching his jaw, my fist collided with all my body weight. Pain that blazed up my fist connected with the enemies’ jaws.

The sky still carrion black as poppy red blood drizzled from our wounds. The trolls were clunking axes and crashing war hammers against our shields. Arrows zipped and hissed through the air. Some of our men were snobbing and sniveling with fear. Swords ringed against each other. The septic smell of death hung over the battle field. It was a battle of head-clasping horror. The acrid taste of blood rose up in our mouths.

The clangor of the sword had died away, the shouting of the slaughter was hushed, silence lay on the red stained snow. The pale bleak sun that glittered so blindingly from the ice-fields and the snow covered plains struck sheens of silver from rent corselet and broken blade, where the dead lay in heaps. The nerveless hand yet gripped the broken hilt, helmeted hands, back drawn in the death throes, tilted red beards and golden beards grimly upward, as if in last invocation to those of the foes who were left. We had won the battle.

Searing fiery bursts pulsated around numerous wounds, intensifying with each dragging step, jarring and brutal. With each step I took, the pain amplified and the bloody muscle quivered. My pain was an ocean of unknowable depths, swift currents and lurking beasts. As my consciousness ebbed, black mists swirled at the edges of my mind drawing me into a sweet oblivion.

I opened my eyes to a room of brightly coloured liquids. Each one bore the face of my victims in this war and the wars before. Otherwise, there was nothing to see, the floor was white and there were no walls or ceiling, just brilliant white rays. Before I knew I was even dead, I sat back up. Everything was just the same as before. This was hell. Just when I thought the flames will come for me and I would feel the theatre of deadly blistering, they were all gone. There was no pain at all and I was just thirsty. I found myself on the floor and went looking for water. Finding lots of water to quench my thirst, I felt cheated. I wanted punishment and all that I got was forgiveness. After all truth was a treason in the empire of lies. I realized that there is only one God for ‘God’ is a term of deepest respect. There could be other entities, but they are not God. He is the power of love, the Creator, the Divine Spirit.

God Respect Holy war Butchery Blood Storymirror English stories

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