“When there’s a lot of light, you don’t notice the dark. When there’s a lot of dark, you always notice the light.” These words, echoing in my head, always seemed to hold a power of their own. I can still remember the first time I heard them, oh so many years ago. How long has it been?
The training ground had been eerily empty on that day, and I thought I was alone while I practiced. My sword swung through the air, graceful and deadly as always, as I continued to train. A sound behind me alerted me that I wasn’t alone, and I turned to find a figure standing not too far away, his cloak flapping in the wind.
“Graceful, but lacking.” He had said. His voice startled me as much as his peculiar look: cold and harsh. “If only you knew the true power you wield in your hand, boy.” The figure said, a wicked smile creeping across face.
“What do you mean!” I shouted back at him, so foolishly. “How about I show you what I can do.” With that challenge, I had unwittingly sealed my own fate. The battle was short. My blade swung through air, straight and true, headed for this man’s heart as I charged forward like an idiot. Suddenly my body couldn’t move, and blood splatters across the ground, as I looked and saw the man’s own blade plunged deep into my chest.
“So weak.” He had said, a look of disgust and contempt contorting his face. In the next instant I was thrown and cast off his blade only to land in the grass, unable to move. It was then that the man had stooped down next to me and began to whisper.
“Your power is weak and pathetic,” he told me, “and that is why you fail. You think you are strong, you think that your anger and your hatred give you strength. If only you knew.” Then this strange man, this man who had defeated me with a single move of his sword, stood and walked away. I lay there, watching as his figure vanished like smoke in the wind. But I could still hear him talking in my head.
“Anger and hatred are nothing but shadows in your heart, and you think that these shadows give you strength. The darkness of your heart is not a strength, it is a weakness. This is true of all things. When there’s a lot of light, you don’t notice the dark. When there’s a lot of dark, you always notice the light. Find your light, and then come and find me.” With those last words echoing in my head, I faded into unconsciousness.
Now I find myself in this cave, searching for the man who so easily defeated me. This time will be different. This time I won’t fall so easily. This time… I’ll kill him.
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