Adventures of John: Ravages of War

Chapter 7: Returning to Battle

A fortress was being constructed on the border separating two realms, two realms which had been at war for millennia. One was a realm of life, of plants and animals, of warmth and light. The other was a realm of death, of rock and stone, of cold and darkness. Yet both sides in this conflict believed in Order, so now for the first time, the Florans of the Everwood and the Rock-Men of the Stone Wastes worked side by side, their hatred held at bay by their obedience to Order. On one side the fortress was made of dark stone, while on the other it was formed of hardened wood, and even in this early state in its construction the fortress was a wonder to behold.

Yet at the same time, there was a dangerous edge to it. The wooden walls were covered with thorns, while stalagmites jutted out of the base of the stone walls. It was beautiful, but also deadly. There was but one reason for such a place: War.

A Floran working on the walls was hard at work doing its job. As plant people, the Florans could not be considered either male or female, as they were, in fact, both. A nearby Rock-Man was doing its job as well, and while they are called men, the Rock-Men in truth do not possess a gender, as they form from the earth itself. While the pair exchanged hateful glances, there was no conflict. Order had to be maintained at all costs.

Glancing up, the Floran saw a bright light in the sky. It shouted at the Rock-Man to look, fear evident in its tone, but the Rock-Man ignored the plant creature. The bright light in the sky was obviously the sun, which the Rock-Men despised, just as they despised all light. The earthen creature couldn't understand how the Florans could possibly enjoy having a blazing sphere in the sky. Then the Rock-Man saw out of the corner of his eye that the light was coming from the sky above the Stone Wastes. But that was impossible, there was no light in the sky in the Stone Wastes, only darkness! The creature turned to raise the alarm, but it was too late.

The light crashed down violently, creating a massive crater in the center of the unfinished fortress. A figure stepped out of the crater, a blood-red cloak billowing about his golden armor. He reached out his hand and a blazing sword appeared, flames licking the air hungrily. "I'm back! I announced to the shocked beings surrounding me. "So, who's first?"

. . . . .

After several more days of contemplating the morality my actions I decided that enough was enough. Whether what I had done was right or not, it was done, and there was nothing I could do to change that. Elsa agreed with me on that point.

"You did what you had to," she told me, "just as you did during the Siege. You can't keep dwelling on it. You have to move on. Go do something. Don't you have a war to fight?"

She was right of course. I couldn't keep dwelling on this, and I did have a war to fight. If I kept ignoring my responsibilities it wouldn't be long until they all erupted in my face. I decided I had to get back to work. So, the next day I crossed over into the magical realms, itching for a fight. I was ready for anything, though I do not think I was in the most stable state of mind. I wanted to fight something, anything to get my mind off of the man I had killed. I would gladly have faced off against a god if it could distract me from my thoughts. Like I said, I wasn't exactly in the most stable state of mind.

I fought against both the creatures of Order and Chaos, glorifying in the heat of battle. While I fought, I thought only of the battle, and guilt was barely a memory. It is a truly liberating experience to battle beings that do not possess souls. Unlike humans, the majority of magical creatures do not have free will, because they do not have souls. They simply do as their nature directs. During this war they have shown an independence that they have never shown before, yet they still seem to follow their nature, only more dangerously so, as if they have gained some sick mockery of free will. This of course only makes killing them all the more gratifying. Which, now that I've said it, sounds incredibly creepy.

. . . . .

The second camp was far less wondrous. There was no fortress, no organized building projects. Instead there was a ragged assembly of tents, huts, and half-built structures stretching for miles. The strict Order maintained in the fortress was also not present. Brawls erupted all over the place, with hardly a reason for the violence. The dead and dying were ignored, dozens of species fighting and killing each other, and yet still the camp was overcrowded with life.

One troll straggled a goblin over a piece of string. On the other side of camp, a trio of dwarves ambushed an elf, robbing him of all his possessions. A necromancer tried to make use of several of the corpses, only for an overzealous ghoul to confuse the thin, pale necromancer for a corpse, ripping into the man's neck before he could protect himself. All over the camp, Chaos reigned supreme.

The dwarves, the troll, the ghoul, and everyone else in the camp looked up as a light suddenly blazed in the sky. Fear filled their eyes as they recognized the figure hovering above them, his trademark golden armor and crimson cloak marking him unmistakably. He thrust his fists outward, a wall of flame engulfing the camp.

. . . . .

Of course, minions are not the only ones I had to face. If you eliminate enough of the pawns, the other pieces are doubtlessly going to come into play. And while it may not be enough to draw the king out, you are bound to face a couple of rooks and a knight or two.

. . . . .

"This is quite the devastation you have wrought," stated a voice from above me as I stood in a field of ash and charred corpses. Turning around, I saw a familiar face, a man floating down from the sky with wings on his feet and a toga wrapped around him.

"Hermes?" I asked in shock. He certainly looked like the Olympian, but the Hermes I knew preferred to dress like a mailman or jogger or racquetball player. He didn't dress in togas, and his presence here made me nervous. I didn't want to have to fight a friend.

"Actually no," he replied. "I'm Mercury. I believe you already experienced the duality of the Olympians when you fought alongside my brother Mars."

"I did," I responded, taking a little sigh of relief. "And I knew about that duality long before that battle. So why are you here then Roman? Are you acting as a messenger for big daddy Jupiter?"

"So much destruction," he muttered, ignoring the question. "You claim to be fighting for Balance, for the preservation of life and liberty. All very noble to be sure. Yet, at the same time, you go on these violent killing sprees. How do you justify it?"

"They didn't have souls," I replied coldly. "Like animals, you magical beings are ruled only by your nature. To kill someone who does not possess a soul is nothing. To kill someone who has a soul is murder. This is just the ravages of war." I chuckled at the inside joke.

"So you think yourself better than us," Mercury surmised. "And yet you make friendships with us. Your Pixie friend, the Wicked Witch, even my Greek duplicate. Quite a double standard you have there child."

"You know nothing," I told him, shooting a blast of force in his direction.

"Oh, but I know a lot," he replied, moving at impossible speed to dodge the attack. "We have been keeping watch over you, after all. And I possess all of Hermes's memories, including the ones of you. Such secrets."

"I don't need to justify myself to someone who sold his humanity for power!" I exclaimed, attacking him again. I struck again and again, each time my strikes were dodged or swept aside with blinding speed. "Don't think I don't know how you so called 'gods' work. You have a little bit of power, so you build cults around yourselves. You feed off of those who worship you to give yourself strength, and along the way you give up your humanity and dare to call yourselves gods. Yet for all your power, you were still controlled by your worshippers. Your abilities, your personalities, even your memories were dictated by those who once worshipped you."

"By that logic, your dear friend Hermes would also fit into that category."

"I know," I replied coldly. "In fact, he was the one who gave up his humanity. You are simply a copy, a slight alteration made when the Romans adopted the Greek religion. I know full well Hermes's past. I may count him as a friend, and I do enjoy his company, but I never forget how he became what he is, or what he is capable of. If necessary, I will take him down as well."

"This is all rather pointless," Mercury sighed. "I can kill you before you could-" the rest of his sentence went in slow motion, his lightning-fast movements slowing to the pace of molasses. I, on the other hand, moved freely and without hesitation as I cut him into pieces.

"Time manipulation," I stated. "By slowing down the time around me, I was able to make even your movements sluggish. The skill was highly effective against the Flash, and not even you are as fast as he is. He is the fastest man alive, after all." I laughed at that, looking down at the pile of body parts oozing golden ichor. "You will eventually be able to reform yourself of course," I told him, "but don't forget how easy it was for me to defeat you. The time of gods is over. Your power is fading, thanks to Christianity eliminating your religion."

I began to walk away, then turned back to say one last thing. "One of these days," I informed him, "I will find a way to kill true immortals. On that day, you better hope that Olympus is strong enough to keep me out."