The battle raged on below, in fearsome and bloody horror. The charge of the cavalry had seemed succesful. Then came the Karaphin, on their elephants. The sound of their horns had broken even the noise of the battle field. For a brief moment, everyone was silent, distracted by the noise and the sight of the terrible beasts. The trained wolves were no match for the killer tigers. The horses could not stand against the elephant. They were outnumbered and had no advantage whatsoever. Then the soldiers charged back into battle with as much ferocity as before, and the chaos broke out again.

Up in the balcony stood the girl, in the highest floor of the castle. She was far out of range of any arrows or catapults. So silent and still that she seemed but a statue, she watched. The only sign of life was the blowing of her dress and the tears that stained her once rosy cheeks. The blood had gone out of those cheeks and she could only weep for the horror that was below her.

Why?

That is a question only He can answer.

But for you, gentle and fair one, this:

Cry, fair maiden, and hope for better days. There seems to be no hope, but you always believe in hope. Cry for the nightmare of a war that goes on below you. Cry for the loss of your dear subjects, countrymen, and friends. Cry for what must be. It must be.

It Must Be…