August 20, 1997

The certain knowledge of immediate death inspires a song celebrating the warrior's own deeds and exploits. Time only remains to sing the deathsong, turn, and confront the enemy. The song is sung that its hearers might know what sort of a man they are about to kill. The man who will kill you is of no consequence, since the real destroyer is Death, and that man is merely Death's agent. What lucky few are allowed this chance, to make a catalogue of their life's mountain peaks that their slayer might increase his own glory by killing such a one? Thus is the store of honor and valor increased, as the killing transfers the death-struck man's warrior-essence to his killer. His life's blood may spill out on the black earth but even as the blade strikes his vitals, even as he groans and his eyes fill with a vision of eternity, his true self is snatched up and carried forward like a standard before an army. If nothing breaks the chain of glorious warriors, his spirit could live forever.


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