This is my first short story. Please criticise it, I want to learn from it :D (excuse my English, I'm not a native English speaker)
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"You killed them"
Bored he looked at the boy, then he stared at the ground. Panting he stuck his bloodied sword in the ground. "You think the world is only black and white". He breathed heavely through his nose and wiped his hands on his surcoat. "We are all killers"
He spit on the ground. "If you want to go through with this, you will become a killer", he said when he pointed at the boy. "It's not about that we kill, it's about why we kill."
The boy became more relaxed. The man looked at his gambeson that was colored in black and white. "That's something we have to live with. We don't kill because we're evil, we kill because we have to. It doesn't feel nice, and it shouldn't". He looked at the ground and rolled his eyes. "If you want to become like me or any of the men you admire, you'll have to accept that"
The boy seemed to understand.
The blood mixed with the soft, clean soil.
It hurt to say that. To corrupt something so innocent and pure. But it wasn't his choice.
That's how the world worked.