It was known as the most terrible of all wars. Not because of the mass destruction and shear violence. No, it was because of the pain and suffering... Friend fought friend. Everyone was enemy. No one was trusted. Auror against Auror, Death eater against death Eater. Mother against father, brother against sister. But the most infamous battle was the sad war that was waged within the war. The war of two brothers who picked opposite sides.
Lightning streaked across the skies; lighting up the dark gloomy day; silhouetting bodies strewn on the hillside. Corpses dotted the field. Those with eyes stared blankly ahead.
They were the lucky ones.
The others were mostly rotted away, complements to the rotting curse, thrown relentlessly around by some insane dark wizard. He to, lay here.
Dead. He was missing both legs.
Blasted away by an angry auror.
Some of the bodies that lay on this battle field did not die today. No, they were killed many weeks ago but a necromancer took sick pleasure in raising them up to fight again. Zombies, dead clawing hands, still twitched as their animation spells failed.
The crack of thunder echoed across the skies, bringing with it the cold sleet and rain that announces the approaching winter months louder than any news reporter. The great grey black clouds poured out their tears over the fields of green grass; the hard incessant deluge forcing the blades to bow their heads in defeat to the ground. Like so many wizards had under some or other control spell. Dark curses taking control of unwilling souls. Grinding out all resistance; snuffing out dreams of happiness. Hope of a bright future gone, until… until only shame and defeat rules.
A lone barely live centaur moaned in agony, his body quivering in the cold; he opened his mouth to try and quench his parched throat. Diluted blood ran down his side, forming red rivulets round his well formed muscles. His deep wound opened up by the rain. Deaths cold fingers caressed his rough face. The only love in his last hour.
You ask where the medics are. Why has the battlefield not been cleared and the few scattered survivors helped.
It is because the battle is not over. The war is not won. No one ever wins.
Another lightning strike shone its brilliant flash light. It was not welcomed.
All it did was be reflected malevolently back by two bright green eyes. The eyes filled with death intensity. Anger mingled with sorrowful sadness.
It was not the only pair of eyes on the field. The other pair stared right back at the first. Also green, but these were streaked with blood red lines. Testimony of dark rituals. Testimony of cruel death and torture. Once the two were brothers. Still they are by blood but not by heart. Not anymore. Too much pain. Too much war, shame and sadness.
The air sizzled with electricity and the sharp smell of ozone did not clean the air of the stench of burning flesh. It only sharpened the resolve in the two combatants.
"So this is what it has come to brother?"
Red stained eyes stared defiantly back. "You think you are so right by staying on the so called side of light. I tell you now, even if you win, what have you accomplished? What are you fighting for? You fight for peace and happiness. But your government that controls you is corrupt. It is beyond repair. But still you fight. You call me evil for turning to the so called dark side. But I am the only one seeking to better the world. I fight against all odds. Have to resort to rituals to have a chance to change the world. All this time, what have you done brother of mine, but sit in you cosy world, seeking to save the wealthy. What do you fight for?"
Hard green eyes gazed back coolly. "You have deluded yourself, brother. Making yourself believe you are fighting for a better world. Look around you. The death and carnage. Mindless slaughter. Is this what you fought to accomplish? What have you gained? What have you to show for your work but dead corpses? We used to be friends. We played by the riverside. Climbed trees, and made kites. We went to school together. Learned together. All of it has only produced this. What was it all for? I want to know why you left!"
"You want answers. I will tell you. The life you just described was all a lie. Yes we were happy. Yes we lived in a paradise. A heaven built on the backs of slaves. Werewolves, centaurs and vampires; Veela and house elves reduced to animals; looked down upon by fat ministry employees. Lords in manors sneering at the poor. I sought to change it. I tried. But no one listened. They were too set in their bigotry to notice the struggling peasant. And because they did not listen I tried force. But they painted my name as mud, cast me from society and killed my reputation. So I turned to more powerful sources namely the dark arts because the only thing that the power listens to is more power. And so I am here."
"And what have you accomplished? Where are those poor that you fought for? Where are the werewolves, vampire and veela? Where are the centaurs and house elves that you sought to free? They lie dead. Those that live have their families shattered; lives destroyed until those that you sought to help curse your very name."
Red eyes bowed in sorrow. "Yes you are right in a way, but so wrong in another. You strived to stop me. In doing so you made my goal an impossible one. In resisting your own brother you caused the war to escalate, drawing in allies. You drew in people that should never have been brought into it. I was then forced to build an army. But enough words. Let us end this now."
And so they duelled. Spells flew. Lights flashed across the sky mingling in the rain and lightning.
Until…
Until one lucky shot caught the dark wizard in the chest sending him to the ground. Green eyes stared in shock. His brother lying still on the ground. Slowly he approached, tears filled his eyes at the deed he had committed.
"What have I done?"
He knelt down and cradled his brother's head. Tears leaked down his face. Red stained eyes met green. "I am sorry brother. So sorry."
A racking blood filled cough sounded through the air only to be drowned out by the rain.
It was over but nothing had been won. One man bowed pathetically over his dying brother. "I am sorry" he whispered to the air.
Suddenly a jagged knife burst from the fallen wizard's robes and plunged swiftly into soft flesh. Red stained eyes flashed completely red and a triumphant sad smirk spilled over the man's features.
Pain of betrayal and pain of agony spread across the green eyes. His mouth open in a silent scream. His hand clutched desperately at the knife jutting from under his rib cage.
His life, his blood leaked over around his fingers.
Slowly he accepted his death and keeled over onto his fallen brother. Yes it was over. The two wizards lay in silence.
The rain continued to pour. It covered their forms like any other corpse. It soaked through their robes like any other man's.
And they lay dead... Just like any other man.
The lightning streaked across the sky once more, silhouetting two more corpses in the vast expanse of the battle field.