2Pride
.
.
.
He was never one to rely on others.
He'd never give them the satisfaction, albeit to contrary belief.
He was too proud,
Too capable.
He is the strongest,
The best.
Superior to everyone,
And in a league of his own.
No-one could match him,
For he had no equal.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Still a long ways to go,
And yet he had accomplished a lot for someone so young.
More so than what most were ever capable of achieving themselves so early on in life.
He attained the highest rank reachable to what was considered very early in someone's career.
He had reached a level of power that others could only dream of having themselves at such an age.
And,
A reputation that pillared higher than even that of his peers,
And many others.
. . .
But . . .
One must ask,
Are such feats a good thing?
Especially for someone of his calibre.
For surely . . .
It would corrupt.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Through time,
He became a symbol of Power.
To him power is everything.
It is not only what sets people apart from one another,
But all living things;
From the strong,
To the weak.
. . .
With Power . . .
You can claim anything you so desire.
With Power . . .
You can make change.
With Power . . .
You could rise, and stand at the very top;
Above all others,
Becoming a Ruler,
An Almighty.
Anything
. . . . . .
Weakness
However is a sin.
Something he would not accept.
He would sully those for being weak and would not tolerate any association with those who he considered of lesser worth.
Only the strong may address him,
May acknowledge him,
May be within his presence and be worthy of his praise.
. . .
He had no time for the weak as they were the inferior.
They were an unnecessary weight,
A burden.
In his belief,
As so the laws of nature prescribed,
It is survival of the fittest.
The Strong will prey on the Weak.
The Strong survive,
And the Weak perish.
That,
Is how the world works.
"If Thy does not wield the Power of Triumph,
Then Thy Life, is Fruitless"
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At times we'll wonder just how much can change over any period of time.
It all depends . . .
But as for himself,
He went through a big change altogether.
Far more than what people would've liked to believe.
He now possessed a winner's mentality;
Viewing that winners are gifted all and losers are denied all.
He became equipped with a massive ego to boot,
One that became detrimental to the well-being of those around him.
Endowed with a new sense of bravado;
Feeling no shame in his manner of tongue or action.
Plus adorned with a vexing vanity,
That made him even more . . .
Distasteful
. . .
Regal,
Snide,
Arrogant,
And Overbearing.
Taunting his, comrades,
And lowering self-esteem.
Berating them for their pitifulness.
Looking down on them from a pedestal to show just how different they were to him in stature,
How they could never compare to him.
His Might
. . .
There even came occasions where he would become violent towards the people who rebuked him for his... 'Wrong doings', and would strike those who opposed him.
How foolish.
Who did they think they were?
"Trash!"
He would disallow them to oppose him not the other way around.
It was he who would disallow them from looking and speaking down upon him.
"Vermin!"
It would be made clear that only those who serve him, and him alone, may look him in the eye,
And have the right to speak to him.
Any who refused would be forced to submit.
He was the one with true success.
He was always in the right.
He had every fairness,
To be Proud.
. . .
His power,
Is Absolute.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Power tends to corrupt,
And absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Great men are almost always bad men"
. . .
Make no mistake.
He is a great man without a doubt.
. . .
But he is also misguided.
. . .
Was it from the power he possessed?
The Ideals he believed?
Perhaps the ambitions he sought?
Either way it did not matter.
He had chosen his path, and would follow it to the very end,
Regardless of the outcome.
No turning back,
And living with no regrets.
He had shown
. . .
His Resolve
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"What did you say?"
"I said you're pathetic!"
No-one dared to speak or even make a move.
They were all fixated on the scene before them as two of their most skilled comrades were engaged in a fearsome duel of rigorous and violent clashes that seemed almost unthinkable to the eye.
Callous was the raw display as sparks discharged across the earth and through the heavens,
And devastating swings of an edge that tore the Sky asunder.
The power . . .
Could only be marvelled at.
"Honestly it never ceases to amaze me just how oblivious you can be at times"
Another strike coursed its way towards him in a vertical arc.
"You think of yourself as someone with high intelligence, when really, it's nothing to be proud over"
His opponent lunged at him with tremendous speed, and aimed to pierce him with greater force.
They fought at high intensity,
And the atmosphere became heated with the immense pressure both combatants released.
. . . . . .
But why?
. . .
Why were they fighting to begin with?
What had caused such an engagement between two allies?
"Just give up"
Full confrontation between the two of them was nigh certain.
It was something that could only be imagined and further questioned over.
But as it seems that imagination,
Had become a reality.
. . .
Both fighters landed on solid ground, standing at a distance away from each other.
. . .
He stood there,
Calm,
Focused,
Relaxed,
Steadily alert,
And apparent boredom displayed over his face.
. . .
Before him was his opponent.
Tyrant
Is what best described his foe.
Clad in black,
Armour with many spiked protrusions that layered all over.
A matching weapon was equipped in the person's right hand;
A large, black mace, much taller than it's wielder, which had six spikes that grew progressively larger as they ran along the edge of the blade.
. . .
The most attractive feature though that stood out above all the rest,
Was the scarlet red of hair;
Spiked tendrils that matched the theme of the tyrant's armour flared outward, lashing through the air as if the individual strands were independent.
. . .
He focused on the person's eyes . . .
They were blinded,
By fury.
"Hm-hm, to think... you of all people, would succumb to your own darkness" he spoke as he watched the scarlet-haired warrior place her second gloved hand over the hilt of her mace, and snarled at him, like a feral.
"You're a joke"
His words had pulled a chord, for the woman charged at him relentlessly.
Leaping off the ground and lifting the hefty weapon over her head she followed through as the mace was swung with abnormal strength diagonally down towards, her enemy.
"WATCH OUT!"
"GET OUT OF THERE!"
But he did not budge, even as the obsidian spikes of the large weapon sickeningly descended upon him, he did not waver.
"Tch!"
Instead of running, and trying to avoid it, he stood and took the full brunt of the assault, as the spiked-mace, had cleaved him . . .
In two.
". . . No . . ."
. . .
. .
.
"Oh I'm sorry, did you think it was over"
All horror ceased as the voice of the 'slayed' man came from the two halves.
Where he was 'split' a surgical discharge erupted from the two pieces and pulled both parts back into one whole being.
He listened as a chorus of sighs of relief washed over as at one second they all had thought the worst.
. . .
He looked down at the scarlet warrior with disinterest.
Her form was rigid and she kept a very tight hold of her weapon.
The weapon itself was lodged into the ground at the angle from which it had been swung.
. . .
And the eyes that were moments earlier full of fury . . .
Were filled . . .
With Fear.
. . .
Fear... for she might, have taken a life.
. . .
Nevertheless
"You hesitated"
. . .
"You really are weak after all" he added, turning his back towards her.
". . . I'm not weak" she whispered.
"I beg to differ,
You allowed yourself to be controlled by your own anger and power. Only a weakling would fall so low"
"STOP IT!"
. . .
"How can you be so cruel?
Why is it you feel the need to undermine everyone. Your own comrades. Just because they're not as strong as yourself, or anyone like you for that matter" She argued staring at the back of his form waiting for him to answer.
"Those who lack power, are certain to fail" he answered.
"Power is not what makes us strong" she bit back seething with frustration at his belief.
"Power is everything"
"You're wrong!"
"Then let me ask you this,
You talk about friendship, bonds, and by putting your trust in others you can face and overcome many challenges that life throws your way . . .
But what good is that if those factors are non-existent,
What then,
What could you hope to accomplish, if you can't rely in your own power?"
. . .
"It doesn't have to be like that" she said in neglect, not wanting to believe that his words could indeed be true.
He shook his head due to her refusal to answer directly.
"That's the difference between you and I, you have so little confidence in your own strength that you would solely rely on others for support" he stated in clarity.
"I do not have little confidence, and there is nothing wrong with relying on others" she shot back.
"Perhaps... But it doesn't always mean a sure guarantee that the person will be consistently reliable, no matter how close you may be to the individual. There will come a time that they will fail you" his words had an effect as her head lowered and she became filled with more uncertainty in her beliefs.
"I however, have every confidence in my abilities and should someone fail me, not that I would need to rely on anyone, I know that I can make it on my own" he said stepping away from her. Yet his words held a bit of, displeasure, to them, but were not noticed.
"Arrogant is what you are" she barked at him which he stopped in his tracks.
"And you're in denial" he replied, walking away from the scarlet-haired woman once again.
She stayed there, his words replaying in her head, sending her in turmoil.
He was wrong . . .
He was wrong . . .
He was... wrong . . .
. . .
". . . You're wrong . . ."
Even at the distance her final words reached him, and in return sent back finals words of his own.
"I always win, therefore, I'm always right"
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With his power alone,
He would continue to prosper.
He'd remain in the right,
He'd continue to win,
Prevail.
. . .
That's not to say,
That it wouldn't be fun,
To have a worthy adversary appear and confront him.
Challenge their ideals against his own.
Match their power to his.
And succeed in becoming the victor,
If they could.
. . .
Yes
Fun indeed.
For now though he'd continue as he saw fit.
But he'd look forward to the day,
That someone,
Would come and try to cut down
. . .
His Pride