And No One There Saw Him Cry

This is a prologue to my other story, "And Only A Night Saw Him Die", I hope it is as good as the sequel. My native tongue isn't English, so please help me find all of the grammatical errors, it would really help! 

Enjoy!

The streets were empty and lifeless as a man passed through. Beggars crawled forth, admiring this person who was dressed more richly than any of them had ever been, so they outstretched their hands, wordlessly asking. But the man regarded them from above with indifference and arrogance then left in a hurry, distancing himself from the filth.

He reached the execution square, where a man would have soon fallen. He saw the people dressed in rags all huddled to witness the execution for reasons he did not know, nor care to know. In the center of the ring the man was kneeling, neither crying nor pleading, his head raised high to the dark sky, his eyes shining with silent and unwavering conviction.

But the man knew this flame would soon extinguish. Such a waste, he thought, to kill a man so strong and determined, but he had chosen the light and rejected the dark, and to do so was a fool’s act, for no light would flourish under the dark dome where all stars had gone out.

The tension was thick and the silence made it all seem more eerie, as the faceless soldiers raised their weapons behind the back of the man who would fall. They positioned themselves, loaded their killing instruments, the clicking breaking the silence. Then a shout, “Fire!” Then bangs from the guns that finally shattered the stillness. And the man fell, covering his blood. The crowd stirred and shivered, but no one ran, no one closed their eyes, every gaze was fixed on the fallen man, fear and terror paralyzing them.

The crowd slowly dissipated after the soldiers’ encouragement. They would never have let them take the fallen man’s body back. No one knew what he had done, they always made sure that no one ever did, but they all knew one thing: he had done something good. And that was what anyone would ever know of him, for his name, feats and courage were lost, taken by the darkness which he had foolishly fought.

But among the crowd there was one girl, no older than thirteen, who refused to move. The soldiers shouted warnings, and yet she did not move. They readied their weapons for another kill, but the man stepped in. The strength in the fallen man’s eyes had struck him, and in this girl’s eyes he saw the same strength, and there was no doubt, so similar they had been, that she was the fallen’s daughter. It would have truly been a waste to end her as well.

He brought away from the harm, and bid her to follow him, to show her darkness and to let her embrace it for he knew that she would do well. But the rejected him as her father had rejected the rest of the darkness, and told her that to be his he would have to find her a flower. The man, so intrigued by this strength, decided to seek out the flower, and so he did, sure that in the end the girl would give up hope, and succumb to darkness before he found the plant.

But on his search the power she had and he desired, in the end, broke him first. The girl had sung songs to him, about hope, about light, things his father had taught her until his final moments, and these songs won his heart. And he remembered the people in the square, and now saw the reason as to why they had been there, the truth that had evaded him. They had been there to show the fallen man their love, to ease into death and to pick up his sword once he had gone, their gazes were fixed to prove their love, to show him his act hadn’t been for naught, and it was bravery not terror that rooted them to the spot.

So, once he had found the flower, a pretty rose, he, in the end, was hers, but she had never claimed him, and neither had she run. He had fought his darkness and won, and they both found comfort in each other, for both had nothing save for themselves, like a brother and a sister.

But the darkness would not let her be, this light, a threat to it reign, so it plagued the pretty flower with thorns, and once the girl touched it, darkness took her. The man, desperate, begged to the darkness to spare her, but he found no mercy, so he sacrificed himself, and took the girl’s darkness in him, but he could not take it all.

He was darkness again, and his light was now gone forever, but hers was not, and neither was his love for her, so he raised his head high to the sky and made a vow.