Aerie InternationaL - Missoula County Public Schools

There were few options available to them though – defying Jinba’s
orders was instant death for the dissidents, no matter how many there
were. So they did the only thing they knew: they kept marching on,
looking at their friends die beside them, and awaiting death themselves.
Blood gushed everywhere; the field had turned red. The army protocol
was still followed.
Nimbuk had just about had it. He lost his parents, he was forced
into training, and now this. He wanted something to be done. He
turned around in a semi-circle from the marching warriors, something
that soldiers were taught not to do in any situation, and he located the
dictator, sitting in his plush tent. He ran against the flow, hidden in his
chosen path, and reached the army’s base line again. Jinba had built an
impressive army – it easily spanned a few leagues. He shuffled through
the crowd like a lion running through the forest, skillfully dodging all
the armed battlements, until he reached the spot where the dictator
should have been. The tent had no one inside now; the surrounding
people had no information about his location. He decided to wait in the
tent with his weapon ready. A few hours passed, and each minute, he felt
the pain his friends experienced on the field. Yet, he could do nothing
about it…yet.
Jinba arrived. He along with three guards, armed to the teeth, walked
into the tent. Nimbuk realized that these might be the last moments of
his own life. I’ll take one for the team, he decided. He leaped out from
underneath the table, simultaneously driving his knife into Jimba’s heart.
Yet, they both felt the pain. Nimbuk’s grip on the knife slipped, and he
let the light enclose him and carry him to his parents.
You have made us proud.
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