Mornings were spent on horseback and days had no distinction from one another. He saw people killed, joy in the murderer's eyes. He saw blood water the earth, choking flowers. Soon all he could smell and feel were the heat, smoke, and iron from the fires and blood left behind. He was in Hell, and he had done nothing wrong. So distracted was the boy's mind that he could only stare at the warrior who looked at his lifeless eyes with compassion and pity. The Turkish soldiers were being slaughtered outside the tent, and the man's blood was soaking into his rugged floor. A spear stabbed into the body, spraying droplets of blood about the room, as disgust heated the crusader's heart. The man of God picked up the child and then a few clothes that were strewn across the floor, blood speckled.

A day later, on the horse, seated before the crusader, the boy finally took notice of his life and he turned his head to look at his savior. "You…"

The man started at the unsuspected voice and he looked down at the eyes that peered up at him.

"It's alright, boy. We have killed those monsters in the name of God."

"God…" the boy repeated. "Why didn't He save me when I asked Him to? Why did you have to save me instead?"

Pity took the man's heart. "No, God did save you, my child. He sent us. He saved you through us." He patted the small head. "He never abandoned you, remember that. This is but suffering that you must overcome without losing your faith, doing this will secure your soul in heaven as our Lord knows of the extent of your faith in Him."

The boy's eyes lingered but went to the land before him and he recognized it. "I know this place." He said, awed. The warrior smiled, his own faith rejoicing.

"It is God's doing."

"God's doing…" his eyes couldn't leave the path before them and dust billowed behind their wake as hundreds of horses trampled the earth and vegetation in the name of the God who had created them. Mother…

The boy convinced the man to leave him in the small village. When he had arrived at the place he had once called his home, he gasped. There were screams coming from within the structure and the guards were not at their posts. Dashing through the open entrance, he almost slipped on the immediate coating of blood on the floor. He overlooked it and ran through the corridor on his left. Blood and gore painted the walls, still dripping, and a few scattered screams and the breaking of doors or of glass could be heard. The boy turned sharply into another passage, but he slipped on a rug and rocketed into the wall. Panting, he threw himself forward and lunged for the door in front of him. It was locked, and he sighed with relief when he heard a muffled scream from inside.

"Mother!"

There was silence and then the scraping of an object moving and the door shifted as pressure was relieved from it. The door cracked open and the boy saw his mother's face for a moment before she cried out and slammed the door, frantically moving the object to block it again.

He shivered, his mouth open with dread and disbelief. "Mother! Its me! Please, let's leave!"

"Get away from me! Monster! You're dead! My son is dead!"

"I didn't die, Moth…!"

"Get away!" she screeched. "If you didn't die, then I would have been killed!"

"Mother." He rested his trembling hand on the door. "Don't…don't say that." He smiled weakly, his face was pale. "Tell me…tell me you love me. Please Mother. That's all I've ever wanted!" his voice cracked. "I can't remember the last time you said that! Its haunted me! Please…please." His voice fell and he hit the door and lent his head on its cold surface. "Please Mother. Tell me I'm loved. I never cared that Father hated me because I had you. Let's leave together. I saw the bodies…everyone is being killed. I don't know who or why but…"

A hand grasped his shoulder and he turned around with a gasp and his eyes locked on a familiar green pair that didn't belong to his father.

"Vladimir?" the eyes were wide and men behind him were also surprised. "I thought you were dead."

"B..brother!" he grabbed his brother's robes. "Please tell me! What's going on? Why is everyone…?" the man interrupted him by smiling wickedly.

"Break down the door." He ordered, pulling the child away. The guards kicked the door twiced before it gave way and they rushed into the room. The boy heard a scream.

"Mother!" he ran into the room as his brother let him go. A man was advancing on her and she was running from him to the window. A sword sliced through her back and she cried out, collapsing to the ground. Slowly she crawled to the wall, shielding herself with her arms.

"NO! NO, DON'T KILL ME!" she screamed, and the boy heard laughter from the doorway. He ran to her, but the guard's sword fell. The boy stumbled and knelt by the body as the blood still had yet to land as the head fell with a loud thud. His hands shook as they hovered over the face that stared lifelessly up at him. The hand hit the ground, losing the strength to stay suspended, and the small fingers streaked the collecting blood on the floor.

The boy roared and sprung at the guard who easily caught him and held him still.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" a sob broke his screams and the hands that held him back felt his trembling. "I'll kill you! Damn you!" he tried to glare at the smiling face before him, the tears made it only into a blur. The figure grew larger and darker and the boy recoiled into the body holding him as a hand wiped away the tears so that his anger would renew with the sight. "I'll kill you! Kill you! "I'll kill you!" the boy screamed and lunged at the man, but the grip on his shoulders and around his neck was like an iron clasp. He continued to scream obscenities and kick and struggle. The arms wrapped around him and stopped his movement completely. The screaming stopped and only eyes glared over the hand that covered half of his face.

"Dear little brother? Why are you so angry." The man walked around the boy, a smile on his lips and in his eyes. "They condemned you to die, to a Hell at the hands of the enemy. That whore gave you up to save herself. Yet why do I hear muffled screams of rage when I mention her?" he laughed but his eyes sparked with interest. "How can you still love her? Did you not feel the thrill of justice when she was impaled in your arms? When the blood was still warm? The very blood that still coats your own body?" he laughed and bent to level his face with the child's. "Eh? Vladimir?"

The boy's mouth dripped with blood and the man holding him yelled from the shooting pain from the mutilated finger. He spat out the chunk of flesh into his brother's face. "She was my mother!" he panted. "You killed them all! Why did you kill them all?" pain in his lungs made him cough, and after the fit ended he flinched as the voice spoke.

"They deserved to die just as I deserved to live and rule in my father's place." Black eyes froze the grey one's of the child. The boy laughed hysterically, startling the men.

"Who do you think you are? Brother?" his laugh cracked. "What do you suppose you are? To decide such things as power, death, and fate? Do you fancy yourself a God? Eh? A God?" his grin twisted with madness. "Are you a God Brother? Tell me! I have many things I'd let to tell the damned God of this pitiful beast called Man. He has taken all he gives and gives, in exchange, pain and the thoughts that you, your own existence is the fault, the cause of the pain!" his laugh continued and the man was frowning. A hand slapped the child and the room was silent. Then a smile returned to the man's face.

"Is that how you see it? You are twisted for such a young mind, little Brother." He chuckled. "I always saw your…potential." His fingers ran over the skin of the boy's face, but the boy didn't betray any movement. The face of the man lent to the child's ear and he whispered. "Your potential to be as mad as me. To perhaps kill them all, just as I have done. To take life in general. I can feel a beast residing within your soul, child." He laughed as he drew away. The he paused. "That is precisely why you must die." He drew out a sword and pointed it to the base of the child's neck. "Should I pray for you, Brother? You seem to hate God." He smiled.

"I'll reserve you a place in Hell, Brother." The boy returned the smile and the man's eyes flashed with a mad glee.

"Perfect." His body tensed to force the sword into the small body, but a sound resembling an explosion stopped him. He whipped around and scowled at the men who had broken down the door and now surrounded them. No words were said as the crusaders looked at the blood and bodies, then they advanced and few rings of metal against metal were heard as they cut down those standing. The man looked down at the child and smiled savagely.

"I'll be the one reserving you a place, then. Brother." His head flew from his body with a trail of blood that spattered the boy's dull eyes. The recognized crusader stood as the body crumpled. He started when he recognized the boy.

"You…" he whispered.

"Is it God's will, once again?"

The quiet voice sent a shiver down the warrior's spine but his eyes were locked with the boy's. "Of course."

He watched the structure burn in silence.

"It's necessary to purge the evil." The crusader said emotionlessly.

"The wonders of fire. Eh? It can erase such things?" the boy smiled cruelly, disturbing the man.

"You will come to learn many things."

"More than this? More than war, fire, death, pain, and abandonment? What else exists?" the child laughed and the man cringed.

He draped his arm around the small shoulder. "I will save your soul. I will take you to learn of God, so one day you will fight for him."

"Is that so?" the boy whispered and there was silence once more.