Asoka’s Secret

Ash King

Notion Press

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  As far as the gaze could travel, there were piles and piles of corpses. The battle field was strewn with limbs and carcasses of men, horses and elephants. The stench was unbearable and overpowering. The Daya River had turned crimson red from the blood of fallen soldiers and beasts of war. In this silent and completely devastated landscape, Asoka was taken over by a deep sense of grief, guilt and sadness.

“What have I done?” he cried, with hands outstretched towards the heavens, begging for mercy…

 John woke up with a start. Cold beads of sweat trickled down his face and a shiver ran up his spine. It was the same vivid dream. It was so real that he could hear the dying moans of fallen soldiers and smell the putrid stench of death. Come to me. The words rang in his ears. The sixteen year old boy was about to make the most momentous decision in his life. One, that would bring him face to face with his worst fears, and change his life forever…

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 Ash King