The sword is heavy in his hand. The adrenaline rush of the battle is gone and now weariness sits on his shoulders like an overweight monkey. There are random aches all over his body. He leaves a trail of blood in the bloodied ground as he walks towards the elephant that lies groaning in the mud. The cries of the animal are shrill and ear piercing that make steel sing on the edge of his teeth.
The princess is trapped under the elephant.
There are yet few breaths in her. Her eyes, though contorted in pain, shoot glances filled with pure fucking venom at him. Her bow and arrows lie useless at a distance.
He digs the point of sword in the ground and bends at the knee to speak to her.
"Will you marry me?" he asks as he produces a bloodstained ring from his war-torn coat.
"Fuck you," she wheezes.
He sighs and gets up. The elephant still keeps on screaming.
"I asked you once, long ago. You said no."
He pulls the sword out of the ground.
"I asked you twice, before this war began. You said no."
He lifts the heavy blade over his head.
"Today, I asked you thrice. And you said no."
The blade comes down on her neck, separating her head from her body in a swift clean stroke. Blood spritzes out like a small geyser, getting into his face and his eyes. He blinks and lets it in, cherishes the warmth and laughs at the old joke of no one being able to see his tears.