He no longer felt prepared. Upon hearing of its return to his realm all the training and preparation he had undergone had vanished; he was reduced to a quivering mass curled in fetal position under his covers. Pain; he felt pain from the anxiety alone, a stinging sensation in his chest as his heart beat in excess, delivering drugs to every part of his body, drugs that would act solely to rob him of his sleep.
Weaponless and powerless he stood, moments away from confrontation. He knew not what to do; the enemy was greater and far more powerful than him. He seemed without hope, lost and helpless in the dark, he wanted to give up and run away. His mind screamed for more time, his body screamed for more training but his heart, it screamed a scream that silenced them all; it screamed that they press on, through the darkness and war surrounding him he would press on as planned. Reaching down he grabbed the last fragment of courage to light his path. It shined dimly, showing but a foot in front of him, but it was enough, he could move forward as planned. Soon he would be able to tell if he had been successful.