Go Back   WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Fiction

Fiction Novel excerpts, short stories, etc.

Dying Breath

Thread Tools
Old 07-13-2012, 11:52 AM
Marshin's Avatar
Marshin (Offline)
The Next Bard
Official Member
Join Date: Jul 2012
Location: Michigan
Posts: 362
Thanks: 22
Thanks 34
Default Dying Breath

Hey peeps. This is a short piece of writing I did in...7th grade? So back in '07...I think I was, like, 12. We had to write something and underline a certain amount of certain words, although I don't remember what kind.

I'm not looking for critique on this piece, I have no plans of expanding on the story or trying to improve it. I just thought I'd post it for your guys' entertainment, and to see if anyone actually likes it :P.

I also plan on posting a few poems I wrote for English in 8th grade...if I can locate them.

So, without further ado, I present to you....

Dying Breath

The young soldier, Marcus, looked up to the horizon. He could just barely see a small ray of light peeping over the edge. Then he looked back down the hill he was standing on. In the small valley below, lay an army 150,000 Narlandir , a race of fierce Viking warriors who had tried to invade Alandra, the land in which Marcus lived. But the Alandrians had found out about this plot and had raised an army, although it was not as big and strong as the Narlandirs. The Alandrians army was made up of a meager 25,000 strong, not including the 2,000 archers that had come to help from the east to aid them and the Alandrians own 2,500 archers.

Hundreds of thousands of torches burned in the Narlandirs camp, and every once in awhile, you could see one of the hulking figure roaming around the camp.

“It’s almost time,” whispered Hakim, Marcus’ best (and only) friend, who was standing to the right of him

Marcus took a glance at his friend. Hakim was donned in the armor that all Alandrians wore when they went to war. It was a iron breastplate with leather shoulders and a leather kilt like thing that went down to his knees and was cut up the middle so that you could see the chain mail that covered his legs, iron greaves on his arms, and leather boots on his feet. He was armed with a 7 foot long spear, a huge rectangular shield that was 4 feet tall and 2 feet wide, and around his waist was a belt, and hanging from that belt was a scabbard which held a 3 foot long sword. Marcus was dressed similarly, as was all the other Alandrians.

Seeing the sight of his friend, Marcus began to think of back when he and Hakim had been young and dreamed of going to war and defeating evil tyrants. Well, here they were. But that was years ago, now they were 16,now they were men.

But I don’t think that we’re ready to die. To leave this world, thought Marcus.

There was a soft shout from somewhere among the ranks of men and a man on horseback galloped past Marcus’ battalion yelling, “Get up men! It is time!”
Marcus and Hakim picked up their helmets from the ground and put them back on their heads.

The sun had almost risen over the horizon, but the Narlandir still hadn’t noticed them.

“Come Alandrians, let us sink our swords into our enemies! Fight! Fight for me! Your families and your friends! FIGHT!” shouted the Alandrian king, Thordal, who was riding atop his horse about 30 feet away from where Marcus stood.

“What say you Alandrians?”

Every soldier banger their weapons against their shields and shouted the Alandrian war cry.


The Narlandir were now aware that they were under attack, and were scrambling to get to their weapons their massive wars machines, hundreds of ballista and catapults.

“Charge!” bellowed Thordal, and the Alandrians thundered down the hill they had been resting on .


The archers and rangers released arrows just before the cavalry took the Narlandirs by surprise by their left flank.

The two armies clashed with a roar while the battalions at the front thrust their spears into the nearest Narlandir while the battalion behind them threw their spears into the enemy ranks, were rewarded with agonized shrieks, drew their swords, and rushed into the crowds.

As Marcus drew his sword, he look up to the sky. The sun had risen completely now and he could see hundreds of flaming javelins and huge boulders flying into the ranks of soldiers behind him.

It was only when a sword clanged against his shield that Marcus was brought back to earth. He let out a roar as he cut down the huge man who stood before him and raced to the next one while Hakim finished of the three that were standing around him.

“Ahhh!” yelled Marcus as he reached the Narlandir axman he had been rushing at and bashed him with his shield, ran past the man, and sliced down his back with his sword.

But, then he heard a bellow from behind him, and then, an agonized scream. Marcus to see Hakim standing over a, surprisingly, small Narlandir.

“Thanks a lot Hakim, I owe you one!” yelled Marcus so that he could be heard over all the clamors and chaos of battle.

“You’re welcome,” answered Hakim breathlessly while wiping the sweat from his brow.

The two friends ran back into battle and continued fight as they were for 3 long, harsh, hours. The Alandrians army had been reduced from an already small 25,000 men, to an even smaller 15,000 soldiers. But the ones who died took plenty of Narlandir with them. The Narlandir had lost over 50,000 men!

Marcus and Hakim had slowly made their way back to the army’s rear flank to take a breather and regain some of their lost strength.

“Are you ready?” gasped Hakim.

“Yes,” answered Marcus as he pick up his sword.

Hakim smiled, “Then let’s go friend!”

So the friends took up their swords and ran back to the front. For one more hour, they fought side by side. The two eventually came to a huge ballista that was being loaded by 5 small Narlandir. So, naturally, they charged at it screaming their war cry. When they reached it, one of the men loading the machine creamed and ran away while the other four were rendered senseless just long enough so that Marcus and Hakim could take them out and destroy the giant machine of war. But then an arrow whizzed through the air, just barely missing Marcus, but only to bury itself into the chest of Hakim.

“HAKIM!” screamed Marcus.

Hakim just looked down at his chest, and then, amazingly, when he looked back up, he was smiling.


And then Hakim fell backwards onto his back.

“NO!” screamed Marcus as he ran to his friend. When he reached his friend, he dropped his sword, his shield, and ripped off his helmet and took Hakims body in his arms and allowed a tear to roll down his face. Hakims eyes were still open. Marcus closed them and said a silent prayer. If the Alandrians were to fall that day, and Marcus to die, he would not go without having Hakims death being avenged.

* * *


The shout came clearly to Marcus’ ears and he could hear numerous horns blaring. He turned around to see what was happening.

A rather tall, slim man, who happened to be a general was standing just 10 feet away from Marcus, was the one who was calling the retreat. It was obvious that they were to retreat. Their army had been reduced to about 9,500 soldiers. Naturally they would retreat back to their camp so that the archers and rangers could have their turn at some action.

The man called out again only to be pierced in the back by an arrow that killed him instantly. The army was already backing up to the hill.

While Marcus was running to the hill on which they were encamped upon, he saw the biggest Narlandir he had ever seen. It was a huge brute of a man. He was six feet tall and very broad across the chest. His arms were bulging with muscles as were his legs. He was wearing iron scale mail that went down to his knees and a huge belt across his waist, and iron greaves. And in his hands, was a magnificent, 6 foot long iron sword, but the man had no shield. The several Narlandir standing around him acted as his shield.

Marcus figured that this must be the leader of the Narlandir army. If this man was killed, the whole Narlandir army would fall. That was their weakness. If the Narlandir were left with no one to give them orders, no one to lead them, they would fall.

Marcus rounded up battalion of soldiers and together, they rushed the group of Narlandir. Marcus bashed the one closest to him with his shield and quickly did away with him while the soldiers around him did the same with their opponents.

The Narlandir commander was only surprised for a moment, but quickly regained his senses and slaughtered the soldiers, Marcus had recruited shortly before.

Now they were alone, just the two of them circling each other and the Alandrians around them who were running to their camp.

Marcus knew it was up to him to do away with this man or else Alandra would fall.

Marcus rushed the mighty warrior and darted around. But this move was expected and the commander turned and stabbed Marcus in the chest.


The Narlandir smiled a wicked smile, turned, and walked away, slaughtering a dozen Alandrians along the way in less than 10 seconds.

But Marcus was not dead yet. Gasping for breath, he took up his sword one last time and flung it at the Narlandir commander, using up his last bit of strength.

The sword whirled and hissed through the air like a peregrine hawk and flew into the back of the Narlandir who fell to the ground dead.

And then Marcus lay down fell the ground, and there, lying on his back in the midst of battle, he took his last dying breath, closed his eyes, and slept the eternal sleep.

Marcus, Hakim, and thousands of others, gave their last dying breath that day to defend their country.

Dying Breath.

The End

So, that's it! Hope you enjoyed!!

Last edited by Marshin; 07-13-2012 at 12:00 PM..
Reply With Quote

  WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Fiction

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
Dragon Breath River skyraftwanderer Poetry 1 03-12-2012 03:49 AM
And thus with his dying breath... Mortimer Writers' Cafe 8 03-26-2009 11:46 AM
Breath & Shadow Jay Writing Markets 0 05-31-2006 06:22 PM
Breath & Shadow: A Journal of Disability Culture and Literature Jay Writing Markets 0 05-18-2006 06:48 PM
The Breath of Life starrwriter Non-Fiction 2 03-29-2006 08:21 AM

All times are GMT -8. The time now is 01:33 AM.

vBulletin, Copyright © 2000-2006, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.