THE BATTLE

 

 

The castle was known to be the most beautiful and intricate in the town. It was located deep in southern France atop a high rocky mountain, with seas stretching out from castle walls; the castle was our world. When I would walk up to one of the many lookout towers, I could watch the sun rise and as it did so, I would remember how everything came to life as the light spread its golden rays throughout the land. It seemed as if this light was perpetual; I soon learned I was wrong.
 The battle began when I was very young, as the armies were approaching, the sunlight faded, and a dark cloud of hate stained the sky. At first, all I could remember were the constant yells, and the confusion that left me breathless. My mother, the queen of the castle, led me to the inner ward, where I was able to find a small window in the corner that enabled me to observe the battle. The army slowly but steadily advanced up the mountain, a sense of fear and panic was apparent throughout the castle. As the soldiers reached the moats surrounding the castle’s defensive walls, I was hoping that somehow they would be lost in the deep ditch, but they easily made their way across the moats, and were soon at the base of the outer curtain, our first line of defensive walls. Suddenly, a sea of flaming arrows came shooting out from the arrow-loops, and the lookout towers, which were once a place of such serenity for me. The defenders who were hiding themselves under battlements, emerged as if from nowhere, and commenced mercilessly heaving missiles at the soldiers. I helplessly watched the army return fire by hurling flaming projectiles directly at our defensive wall, by using the Mangonel, one of the most sophisticated catapults in our time. The outer curtain, despite the efforts of our tireless soldiers, began to slowly crumble, and now the only structure left to prevent our castle form invasion was our inner curtain, the second ring of defensive walls, which led directly to the entrance of the castle. The men inside the large gatehouse that obstructed the opening of the castle was constantly shooting missiles at the army, and I watched in horror as countless men lost their lives in the process of defending our castle.
 It was then that I first saw my mother cry, and lose the control that had made her seem so calm and dignified. As her panic-stricken face became wet with tears I rushed to comfort her, and although I tried my best to try to refrain from sobbing as well, I also began to weep. I was so confused; all I wanted was for this battlefield to be restored to the castle that I once knew to be home. I returned to the window, and noticed that the army had begun to use a battering ram against the drawbridge, which was gradually collapsing. I wondered why our defenders were doing nothing to stop this invasion and I was shocked to see the drawbridge dismember and the attackers able to advance into the castle. Abruptly our defenders, hiding in the hoarding atop the castle, surfaced and began to rupture the bridge that would allow the attackers to vacate the castle. At that time, I couldn’t possibly comprehend why this would be done, but I soon realized; it was a trap. The oblivious army continued to progress into the castle, but they never anticipated the portcullis that lowered ahead of them, which confined them between the portcullis gate, and the moat. Once they were trapped, defenders began to shoot arrows at them through the murder holes, and rapidly killed most of the army.
 The official silently came into our area, and told us that we had defeated the army, the battle was finally over. After we rejoiced that this nightmare was finally over, my mother led me to the top lookout tower, where we were able to see all the soldiers that lost their lives to protect us; it was a pyhric victory. I grew quiet as I experienced a feeling of depression that was unfamiliar.  My mother then gently whispered, " It’s coming…", I looked up, and saw the light emanate from the sky once again.