Teacher Onja was sitting in the training ground when the messenger came in. He opened one eye and asked the messenger
"What news do you bring? Is it ill or is it good?" The messenger shivered in the prescence of such greatness and stuttered
"B, b, both oh Great T Teacher. Which would you like t, to hear first?" The messenger bowed. Teacher Onja thought for a minute or two and said
"The good." he waited for the reply.
"Zoe, the student you sent out two months ago, went into a battle against fifty thousand men with no fear or cowardice what so ever." He said
"She's dead Teacher Onja." The messenger declared flatly. "She took down five hundred and forty three and then was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." Teacher Onja was stunned. She went into a battle against fifty thousand men alone?! That was madness! Anyone sane would have run away. Even if it did mean losing honour. For what is a dead person with great honour to a living one with little or none? At least the latter would still be alive!
"I suppose that we must churn out another great warrior to try and defeat the evil of this land then?" Teacher Onja asked sharply. The messenger, unsure of what to do or say just nodded. "You are dismissed" Teacher Onja said with a wave of his hand. "Go back to your master." The messenger bowed and ran off. Onja sat down and put his head in his hands. He liked the girl Zoe. She had a strong spirit. One of the only chances of defeating the corrupt leader he had, was gone!
Gone! Gone forever!
Teacher Onja then just cried.
All that effort.
Gone to waste.