The First Engagement
In the months following Mark's introduction to Etrurian music, Nergal took the Morph on many similar 'expeditions'. Mark enjoyed the travels very much, and over time he grew gradually less afraid of stepping foot off of Valor. In fact, sometimes he wished he could go on the journeys without his master. Nergal's presence was as restrictive as that of a stern parent. He constantly pointed out things in the places they visited that he wanted Mark to make note of. This 'tour' sort of ruined the magic of seeing and hearing great things for the first time.
Nergal also began introdicing Mark to humans. The Morph was stupified by the odd creatures once he saw them in action in some place other than a historical record or fiction.
"They are a strange people."
"A weak people," Nergal said. He was disgusted by them. He was also disgusted by the fact he had once thought they could be a great species. "They are a race fashioned from mud and grime."
It didn't surprise Mark that Nergal spoke of humans as if he weren't one. In fact, Mark had never thought of Nergal in terms of humanity. He seemed so unlike the creatures he held in such contempt, so it never dawned on the Morph to do so.
In truth, and Nergal would have been pleased to hear this, Mark thought of the Dark Druid as if he were a god.
The thing which most troubled Mark about humans was their tendencies toward chaos. The Morph could tell that many tried to do otherwise, but ultimately their species was one which could never maintain true order or consistantly live up to the principles required of them. It went against their nature – they were very self orientated, narrow minded beings.
"What a flawed species the gods hath wrought," Mark said, quoting a line from one of his favorite poems. It was a tragedy in which the poet described the death of humanity by their own hands. The murder weapon? Apathy. The one whom had forged it? Ignorance.
"I can't imagine these people surviving long in this universe." Mark's words alluded to both how ancient the universe was and how recent an addition to it humanity was. Mark had studied many books – some of which had not been written by a people born on Elibe – and he knew the human species had just recently been born.
"No," Nergal said, in full agreement. "And this world is much too soft and delicate for their rough hands. Once their level of power progresses to a breaking point, they will expend all the resources this planet has to offer. Then they shall wither way with Elibe."
"Unless," Nergal said. "I stop them."
"How so?" Mark asked. He thought in somewhat unbecoming for a god to interfere with the motion of the world, even if it was moving toward a tragic end. One of Mark's favorite philosophers, an Etrurian priest, had said part of living in a world the god's had designed was being responsible for your own actions (no matter how painful). Humans were flawed, to be sure, but they had strength enough to get by passably if they were willing to face the darkness in themselves.
People have choices. Some people make mistakes, and they pay for them. Being able to do so without divine reprisal is what makes them free. It was at this time, bit by bit, that Mark began to understand part of the relevance of free will.
I suppose without it things would be more efficient, but that would make what is efficient less meaningful. When Mark thought of how joyful he felt when things were running smoothly, he realized an inability for things to be otherwise would render that joy void.
Maybe there is enough room in the world for variation ... even if one of the variables is chaos.
Nergal was unaware of this growing change in Mark.
"I want you to help me in this task."
"Master?"
"I want you to be my new lieutenant."
Mark's mouth fell agape. That was a position held by Ephidel, Limstella, and, quite arguably, Sonia. None of these three would welcome a new addition, or worse yet, a replacement to their ranks.
And what could I do? I have none of their magic. Mark said this out loud.
Nergal pointed a finger at Mark's brain. "No, but you have this – five times as much thinking power as any of them could ever hope to achieve."
Mark was silent for awhile. "What good is that when I can be reduced to ash in an instant?"
"You will be my commander in the field. The grand marshall of my armies."
Nergal's eyes were lit with an intense joy as he said this. Here before him stood a Morph of Free Will – a creature whom had (almost) always obeyed him with near perfect compliance. And, like any god should, Nergal would reward such loyalty with a grand place in the scheme of things. It seemed very proper to the Dark Druid.
Mark was, among other things ('shocked' came to mind), skeptical. All the many generals he had read about had been great mages or warriors before they had become military commanders.
Humans only follow people they know are already great. Expertise in combat matters, they believe, implies greatness in military studies as well.
Most of the 'pure' tacticians and strategists of the world were mere 'advisors' to such men and women. Those who received all of the credit and glory were generals, paladins, sages, and other great figures. "The egg heads" were there for, in the eyes of most Elibeans, decoration. They existed to make the "real" commanders look as though they were surrounded by "needlessly" clever people. False perceptions, but ones deeply entrenched in the mind's of Elibe's peoples and tribes.
Mark said this aloud.
"You needn't worry," Nergal said. "For with the exception of a little practice, I intend for you to command only your fellow Morphs, and they will follow you if I tell them to."
"A little practice?"
"Have you, Mark, ever read of the Black Fang?"
"A little. I believe they are an assassin's guild stationed in Bern? Led by a Brendan Reed, with chapters scattered throughout all the other regions of Elibe?"
"Yes, and, as far as humans go, they are one of the most proficient military organizations in existence."
Mark was skeptical. "And you want me to infriltrate theirs ranks in order to become one of their war leaders?" The Morph considered his sickly (if handsome) body as he said this.
"No need. I have already secured a place for you. Brendan Reed happens to be a servant of mine ... or will be when the time comes."
To say Mark was surprised would have been the understatement to end all others.
A/N: You know what I think is tragic? People who wake up fine and then start getting pissed off because there are gay people in the world. Really, think about it:
Some Person: Ah, bright sun ... nice temperature ... pleasant breeze ... green trees ... birds are singing ...deep blue pond ... it's the weekend ... what the hell? Somewhere out there there are people being gay?! Arrrgh! My day is ruined. The natural order is gone forever. Shut up birds. There is nothing to sing about. Somewhere out there there are gay people.
I mean, call me liberal, but who cares?
Anyway, I've got a lot of work to this week. Like, six tests (at the least – there are probably some I don't know about) and a bunch of Physics assignments. I might not be able to update for awhile. The fact I'm writing this fanfic instead of my own novel says something about how much fun I'm having at it though.
I'm reading two books right now. One is a history book about the Crusades. The second is The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger.
Nightmare – the chapter should answer your question.
IVIaedhros – I would like to match your great review, but I'm pressed for time. Those seven (or is it right?) physics assignments aren't going to do themselves. And I've just about given up on Algebra II (I'll retake it next year).
SandyCaesar – I hope you don't think your words are what made this chapter slow in the coming (you know, that one thing where you say something out loud and then the opposite of what you say happens?), because it wasn't. I've just been busy.