It was before the thousand begun.
There had been an effort.
Barbarity thought it had no limits.
But indeed these limits were set.
The decision had been made.
No one would pass.
The rivers would remain still.
Whatever the momentum of the enemy was.
They would all remain still.
Not a step back.
And so it was.
But who could believe it?
No one of course.
Except for those who had lived it.
And had not died during the battle.
The pounding was impetuous.
Because there was no other choice.
The Master had seen those people
that had been sacrificed up to the last one
so that barbarity wouldn’t pass.
And they had won.