The gallop of horses shook the woods, while deer and rabbits scurried off into hiding. The dragons hovered above the clouds, like always, with disdain seared into their gaze. The clouds traveled onward, leaving the sky a perpetual white, never leaving room for blue to appear too long. The denizens of this world loved the color blue. After all, they didn't get enough from the sky. Their clothes were blue. Their eyes were blue. Their hair was blue. Their skin was a dark green, and their blood was blue, much like the blood that the pursuing horses trampled.

The gallop of horses shook the woods. The bandits were out for blood--blue, precious blood. The young man they were chasing wore black pants and a black jacket, with a black sword at his waste. His clothes weren't blue... The bandits wore blue clothes, but his weren't blue. They were black.

One burly bandit, wearing a silver gun at his waste fired at the young man; he said, "Surrender your horse quick, and we'll show mercy to you, Black-cloth."

The young man clutched his arm that dripped blue blood and looked behind. The horses behind trampled his horse's tracks, and his dripping blood from his makeshift bandage didn't help help. The bandage was clumsily made. He felt pain course through his arm. He was scared. This was his first time away from the city, and it wasn't going well. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he bit his cherry red lips until blue blood dripped from them too. He urged his horse to go faster. He saw an opening in the forest. He would make a break for it once the forest ended. He saw a bright light. He barely managed to make it to the top of his horse when the chase started. Now, he barely had enough strength to stay atop it. He didn't know what he would do next, but he decided to go for it. Light blinded him as he exited the darkness of the forest.

A cliff awaited him. A large cliff rewarded his efforts. A river that floated in the sky flowed beneath the cliff, and clouds stretched on into the distance. He saw the whole world before his tired eyes. He saw a choice before him.

The bandits caught up to him. The lead bandit shot at the young man, but a branch caught his hand right as he fired the shot. The bullet hit the horse, and the bandit's face turned red. He spewed profanity.

The young man made his way to the top of the cliff. His back faced the bandits, and the bandits faced his back.

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The head bandit said, "Look. Let's make a deal. Come quietly, and I'll sell you to a nice owner in need of a good Black-cloth slave."

The young man said nothing.

The head bandit spoke again, "Get over here, if you're smart!"

The young man, again, said nothing.

"Look boss," a lanky bandit said, "He ain't coming."

Before the head bandit could do anything, the young man spoke: he said, "What is there for a fallen noble like me to live for? I'll be nothing but a dog if I serve someone else!"

The young man once more lamented: he said, "Watch the dying embers of nobility!"

The bandits gasped, while the saw the figure clothed in black leap over the edge into the raging river beneath them. The head bandit shook his head. He motioned for the other bandits to follow him. They left the edge of the cliff, where the world seemed to expand forever, challenging all who claimed to be great with its presence.

The river swept his body away...