It was a furious battle being fought between the Huns and Metzian soldier. Razell was commanding the Huns.His fierce warriors were throwing heavy blows on the enemies. But fighting and defending from the enemy coming from the top of the mountain was tough.
A heavy club injured his shoulder and knee from the back and he fell unconscious, the battle continued.When he regained his consciousness, he saw himself lying on the dirt path, and battle was still in full swing. Horses were galloping forward like lightning. He tried rolling off the path but his body was paralyzed because of the impact of heavy blows.He helplessly looked around, everyone around was busy hitting , slashing and killing each other.He lay there helplessly waiting to be crushed under running horses.
He saw a warrior on a horse racing towards him, he thought the enemy has recognized him. He shut his eyes waiting to be killed.Instead he heard the horse halting next to him, the rider got off and moved closer to him. He opened his eyes and saw the deepest grey-green eyes looking into his very soul.The rider's face was covered, but he knew its a woman, she wore the Metzian grey and black uniform. She looked at him again and dragged his body and left it hidden behind a tree trunk, safe. The Huns won the battle Razell was rescued and healed.
Something inside him changed after the incident, he no longer enjoyed the struggle and violence for power and control. The idea of killing another human for more land and wealth started to repulse him.
One day he gave up his generalship and left in search of the girl who saved him.
He traveled length and width of the Metzian territory, he inquired at all army posts but no one ever saw a girl in the army. Months had passed by, his search bore no results. He lived on the leftovers of the inns and slept under the sky on cold rocks. His body had lost its strength and vigour. He was living only to meet his savior one more time and thank her. He found her no where, one evening, tired he climbed the sacred plateau of the pilgrims in search of her elusive saviour. He sat on the edge admiring the sun setting across the mountainous expanse.
His heart was sad and heavy, his journey felt incomplete. His life lost its meaning. A drop of tear fell from his tired eyes.He wiped his tears with his sleeve.He looked to his right and saw a stone statue of the goddess of the peace. He stood up stunned, It was the same pair of eyes he was looking for, all this time.It was the statue of the goddess of peace. For several minutes he stared at it in disbelieve, he ran to the monastry uphill to confirm.He found several paintings of her, same eyes, same look, same remembrance.He cried like a child.
He was overwhelmed at the thought that a goddess came to save the life of a brutal killer like himself. He vowed to spread the message of peace and undo hatred and violence from his being all together. He prayed to her for several years. The goddess guided him and revealed the universal knowledge to him. In a decade he was known all over the region and people came to him to absolve themselves of violence and rage from their being.
At last he understood why the goddess chose to save him. Only the one who had gone deep into violence would know how to be peaceful again. One has to be rich to be generous, hungry enough to eat, sad enough to cry, ruthless enough to learn the beauty of compassion. The question is only of recognizing that in oneself.
A heavy club injured his shoulder and knee from the back and he fell unconscious, the battle continued.When he regained his consciousness, he saw himself lying on the dirt path, and battle was still in full swing. Horses were galloping forward like lightning. He tried rolling off the path but his body was paralyzed because of the impact of heavy blows.He helplessly looked around, everyone around was busy hitting , slashing and killing each other.He lay there helplessly waiting to be crushed under running horses.
He saw a warrior on a horse racing towards him, he thought the enemy has recognized him. He shut his eyes waiting to be killed.Instead he heard the horse halting next to him, the rider got off and moved closer to him. He opened his eyes and saw the deepest grey-green eyes looking into his very soul.The rider's face was covered, but he knew its a woman, she wore the Metzian grey and black uniform. She looked at him again and dragged his body and left it hidden behind a tree trunk, safe. The Huns won the battle Razell was rescued and healed.
Something inside him changed after the incident, he no longer enjoyed the struggle and violence for power and control. The idea of killing another human for more land and wealth started to repulse him.
One day he gave up his generalship and left in search of the girl who saved him.
He traveled length and width of the Metzian territory, he inquired at all army posts but no one ever saw a girl in the army. Months had passed by, his search bore no results. He lived on the leftovers of the inns and slept under the sky on cold rocks. His body had lost its strength and vigour. He was living only to meet his savior one more time and thank her. He found her no where, one evening, tired he climbed the sacred plateau of the pilgrims in search of her elusive saviour. He sat on the edge admiring the sun setting across the mountainous expanse.
His heart was sad and heavy, his journey felt incomplete. His life lost its meaning. A drop of tear fell from his tired eyes.He wiped his tears with his sleeve.He looked to his right and saw a stone statue of the goddess of the peace. He stood up stunned, It was the same pair of eyes he was looking for, all this time.It was the statue of the goddess of peace. For several minutes he stared at it in disbelieve, he ran to the monastry uphill to confirm.He found several paintings of her, same eyes, same look, same remembrance.He cried like a child.
He was overwhelmed at the thought that a goddess came to save the life of a brutal killer like himself. He vowed to spread the message of peace and undo hatred and violence from his being all together. He prayed to her for several years. The goddess guided him and revealed the universal knowledge to him. In a decade he was known all over the region and people came to him to absolve themselves of violence and rage from their being.
At last he understood why the goddess chose to save him. Only the one who had gone deep into violence would know how to be peaceful again. One has to be rich to be generous, hungry enough to eat, sad enough to cry, ruthless enough to learn the beauty of compassion. The question is only of recognizing that in oneself.
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