You Called It Glory. It Was Just Death.

The earth screeched upwards into the sky- broken by the weight of war and fury. The thundering clash of bronze and iron momentarily masking the tortured lament of death and injury. The trees quivered as arrows shot through their leaves culling birds and squirrels — innocent bystanders in a needless thirst for blood.

Above the celestial guardians congregated. They could do no more. The thunder had tried, along with the lightning and the rain — shooting shards of electricity and fear into the phalanxes of the men. They would retreat for a time, only to return, re-armed and more determined to bring the blood of darkness upon themselves and all that stood in their path.

The sun had seared into them, causing the forest to ignite — but instead of cowering from the heat, they had used the flames to strengthen their weaponry. Spears, red and charged with the sap of dead trees, were thrown in every direction — burning the ravaged earth. Despite what they may have thought, the only martyrs in their cause were the land and the animals they carelessly destroyed. Innocent and devoid of defenses- caught in the arrogance of war. The strength of man once again, not in his own hands but in minds poisoned with hatred and resentment.

They had tried. And they had failed.

“Helios, my dear brother, we cannot let this continue.”

“It is the way of man Selene, what can we do?”

“But we must do something brother- for they will desecrate all that mother has created”

“Alas, they are determined to wreck the darkness of the world upon us all”

“Then. let us show them their own consequence.”

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It is only six years, six years since I have become lucky, lucky to fight in honor and I have done so. Watched brothers literal and figurative fall next to me, unlucky or cursed by the celestials. For those of us who still live are those upon whom the gods smile. Yes, bloodshed is a part of this, but I am warm with blood both my own and my enemies. The sun comes up to heat our backs as we fight. For battle is what I know.

It is what he knows. The man across from me, he even looks like me.

I have been pulled into this violence by family honor and need. I wonder often how the gods feel about the slaughter. I believe they have been clear, throwing down white fire with ear splitting clatter following. The sun is so hot in the day that we must cover ourselves in the mud of the Halys river to prevent our skin from blistering. Fire has come through the sparse trees as it is, though the battle only became more because of it. My blood is hot with fire and war, but it yearns to be cooled. I am not made for this fighting, and I am sure the beings of the sky feel differently.

I am sure the man across from me knows only the same. He even resembles me.

The fire, the fire was sent down by the gods to help us in our quest against our enemies. It burned hot and bright as my blood for a moment and left us with ways to do more damage to our enemies. It must be the celestial way of telling us we are on a righteous path.

Righteous path, those are the thoughts of those who think this war is going to give success to the victor. After so many years can we call anything but a complete end successful? I am tired. I know my brothers in arms are tired. No matter how bloodthirsty I think we all may be just looking for permission to stop. It is odd today, for the sky looks different, and the animals are not acting as they should.

It is odd though, I have fought without stopping for uncountable days for the glory. There is something different today: the sky is changing, the animals are becoming quiet. In the morning before we take to the battlefield we can usually hear the birds. We cannot today.

It is getting dark, maybe we have angered the gods enough that this is the end. Yes, I think I would be okay with that.

But the darkness- maybe I have misread the signs from the celestials. The silence is deafening. We have all dropped our weapons. The sun is being consumed.

I am standing next to a man from the other side. One that looks like some of the battle mad soldiers that either died fast or worked their way through my people with ease. His face is softening though.

I am next to a man from the other side. One that looks haggard and tired. Weak. His pallor only distracts me for a moment as the sun is consumed. A bright light off the side and then darkness.

The field is silent. Our arms are laid down. This is an incontrovertible piece of proof that the gods are unhappy.

I turn to the battle mad man next to me, we look each other in the eyes. It is as if it were night.

I turn to the exhausted man and see him for the first time. It is as if it were night.

Seconds feel like hours and then the light starts coming back, slowly then all at once.

I throw my sword down, we all throw our swords down and walk back to our respective camps. Barely a word is uttered, there will be so many words later, but we are cowed by the celestials.

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