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The smoke's tendrils curled in never ending spirals toward the wide expanse of polluted sky. The town was burning. It crumbled to the earth creating a ruin of brick, wood, and stone. Yasir stood his ground, for it was too late to turn back. The infantry advanced. Hundreds of armor-clad warriors tested in battle, and ready to bring down this famous bastard. With every step came a resounding sound of thunder, and the ground shook as if there were an earthquake. This was the time. This was the hour when Yasir would fight to the death while defending those whom he loved. He had disregarded his responsibilities in the past. Now was his time to make up for the false promises and scathing lies. Yasir began to run, unsheathing his saber as he charged at the fray of soldiers. They were close now. He could almost smell their foul breath and the unwashed leather and fur draped over their backs. The test had come.

Yasir could not feel his feet. They were numb. His legs. They were numb. His arms. They were numb. His chest. It was numb. All he could feel was his head and his heart, the last and first drum everyone hears. So it was not with guilt, but with pride and love that Yasir rejoiced for his last battle. He now had a chance to redeem himself. As he came upon the army he realized that he was now a man. He realized that being a man came not from one's physical strength, but from one's mental strength and resilience. For a woman it was probably the same, but he would never know, for he had set aside the women in his life, thinking that they were inferior. What a fool he had been. Only on this day, on the verge of death, could he recognize his folly. What a waste of life. But then again, maybe life only existed so that one could find out what he had just discovered. Maybe he was meant to die so that he would not live in ignorance, but so he could die with wisdom.

The men were upon him now. Yasir swung his saber through the neck of a man and then kicked another in the groin. He could smell it as he wreaked havoc upon this horrific enemy. He could smell the blood, the sweat, the pain, the suffering, and the stench of life. He could smell defeat while at the same time smelling victory. Yasir sliced through the bodies of these reckless men in their leather armor and fur clothing. He would not let them win if they thought that he would be easy to conquer. How could a man like him, whose parents he did not know, whose life was full of heartache, not try to bring the

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