Fighting For What I Want

By: J. Helios

 

Even from this far, I can hear the clash of blessed steel upon damned flesh and soul. The dark symbols carved into the walls of this fortress shiver and tremble. Sitting in the middle of this, on the dark throne, I can hear the whispered of tortured souls singing in what would pass as delight. A blessed warrior approaches to cleanse the castle.

 

Walking to the balcony, the sounds of battle reaches an unbearable climax but I relish the sounds of men and demon fighting. The sounds of the sword meeting sword. But even more of that of a sword meeting with human flesh.

 

Looking down, I find that my own troops have been falling back; the front of the fortress becomes a no man’s land as the warrior demons surge forth with cries from the very depths of Hell. But even as more arrivals from the dark portal come, they all seem to shy away from a brilliant light which comes swiftly from the west. The blessed warrior has come.

 

I force myself to look upon the warrior, astride a mighty black steed. The warrior carries a standard, upon it is the symbol which my demons fear and loath.

 

The cross shines brilliantly upon the dark and ruined battlefield.

 

The warrior rides forth, and ally and foe both part to let the mighty horse and rider to the gates of my fortress. The hour has come.

 

The moment I have stepped down and unto the battle field, I am arrayed in the armor of darkness, forged in the fires of sin and made of tortured souls. I carry my crown of bone, letting my long black hair fall back, and the battle field falls silent.

 

The warrior dismounts and the hush that fell with my appearance grows into a painful one as my nemesis sheds the helm.

 

And locks of red-gold fall around the blessed armor.

 

She stands there, her deep green eyes like polished emerald, gazing at me as if asking. Indeed she is asking.

 

“Well met Warrior of heaven” I greet her most cordially, not only is she my equal in rank and power, she is, or rather was, my friend.

 

“The Fortress is claimed by me” she answers, refusing to follow my lead. “Surrender.”

 

I laugh and the laugh echoes on across the battle field and the fortress behind me. “Surrender to what old friend? We have nothing to surrender to. A final banishing is all that is left of us, whether we lost through battle or surrender to you.” I smile though it began to hurt. “You were always so idealistic”

 

“Enough!” Her hand cuts through the air in a rough motion, she was shaking although no one could see. But I knew, because of the soft quivering in her emerald eyes. I know, because I have known her. We are…or rather were, friends.

 

I look upon her as a proud mother would. Gone was the frail maiden that had been thrust headfirst into a war we didn’t understand. She had grown strong and hard, but not so hard that she was not beautiful anymore. There she stands, in the midst of confusion, pain, betrayal and anger, in her shining white armor, holding on to the blessed standard. The sick wind somehow picks up strands of her loose red-gold hair and they fly about her like a magic cloak. And her eyes, sharp as knives that send fear and pride down my dark and tortured soul. She is that, a blade. A blade hidden in a sheath of perfect silk and emerald gems.

 

A blade that was forged by me. A blade fated to destroy me.

 

“Benzoia” her voice, again steel laced with silk, “Why?”

 

“I must fight for what I want Narya” I respond almost cheerily. “This is what I want.”

 

“You want death and destruction?” came the incredulous response.

 

Somehow I am stung by the fact that despite all the things that we have gone through, she has never known what I had truly wanted in the entire universe. Perhaps…she will remember.

 

“Enough!” I say, mimicking her. Whether she noticed or not, I could not see, for I had drawn my sword and nodded to her. “Hesitate, old friend, and I WILL kill you”

 

“What makes you believe that I will hesitate?” she said, drawing her sword.

 

I laugh, “Because you always did whenever we practice.” And with that, our swords spoke afterwards.

 

She was small, smaller than me but her strength of heart and belief that yes, she was right was far stronger than mine. But I believe that she can see that I fight not to win. I fight to prove that I will do anything to get what I want. One does not deal with demons with a wish to live beyond the battle. I face her now with the same state of mind that I have in all my battles.

 

I fight because I seek not victory, but death.

 

She had grown better than when I last left her for it has become harder and harder to read her next move. But in her eyes, I can see that she is desperate to find a way to incapacitate me, not kill me. I sigh inwardly and wonder why she doesn’t understand. I am simply fighting for what I want.

 

“Narya!” I break off and settle a few paces away. She does likewise and we circle each other for a while. “Narya!” I call again.

 

She nods slowly, the only indication that she is listening to me, not trying to read what I am doing.

 

“Narya, you asked if this was what I wanted” I made a grand gesture, encompassing the cursed fortress and the battlefield. “No, old friend, this is not what I wanted.”

 

“This is!”

 

With one swift incantation, the fortress collapses behind me, to both my ally’s and my enemy’s surprise. Narya steps backwards. The symbols, floating in mid-air blaze into an unholy fire and shatter the darkness. I look towards her and the pained expression on her face; I knew she had understood what I had done.

 

Chanting the final incantation, the symbols quickly surround me with sickly green flames. The pain in excruciating, and the mental invasion more so. But this is what I have to do, to get what I want.

 

By the time I am finishing the incantation, no more than a few seconds later, I am whispering due to the mind-numbing pain coming from my back. And with the final words, I can hear the strangest of silences, the only sound I hear is Narya begging me to stop.

 

Brilliant angel wings, my wings burst forth painfully, jerking me out of the possibility of falling unconscious and dropping me to my knees. But the spell wasn’t over yet. With a sickening sound and the feeling of being torn in two, they morphed, hardening and turning a dull shade of black.

 

After a few moments, I gather enough strength to stand and face her. She steps back, whether in fear or in denial, I know not.

 

“You know what to do now” I said, my voice sounding like the whispers in my head. The whispers I know that belong to the Unnamed One.  “You are faced with a demoness dear Friend” I reach out, and I try not to shudder as I see my clawed hands, “You must destroy me.”

 

“I…”

 

I narrow my eyes. Why can’t she see that what I am doing is for what I want? “Would you rather I wreck havoc on the world? Destroy more lives?” I try to swipe her with one powerful claw; she doesn’t duck and gets a nasty gash on her cheek. That will never heal. “Or would you rather I kill more children to prove my point?”

 

“Why are you doing this?” she steps back, her sword readied in front of her but not attacking, merely stepping away.

 

“I am doing it because I will get what I WANT!” I tire of talking. Besides trying to control the inner voices and the lust for live flesh, I could feel and hear the other minions whispering amongst themselves of rushing Narya while she was occupied. I sense that she is not alone and somewhere in the horizon, a blessed army awaits my defeat.

 

Taking in hand a bigger sword I lunge and she parries, only to be hurled away.

 

“Fight damn you!” I cry out, and it resounds across the battle field.

 

She lay curled up and I kicked her. With a strangled cry, she scurries away.

 

“There is no alternative. You must kill me now!”

 

“You saved me before” she said, “it was I who was a murderer, it was I who had to be redeemed, you redeemed me”

 

“And now you must either kill me or suffer the consequences.” Calling forth a power I never knew I had, I let loose the cries of the children killed in this war, from the portal they could be heard weeping for their parents. “Destroy me or their number will multiply.”

 

She stood there, looking stunned. I know the cries of the children are driving her past the limit and that she understands my logic. I am too far gone now. If she came expecting that she can redeem me, a rebel warrior of heaven, she is too late. With that incantation I am now a demoness, unredeemable, and if I let the voices in my head take over, a power of such evil that cannot be stopped.

 

In all its twisted paths, I am right in the end.

 

Her eyes grow from pained to determined. Wild with tears she raises her sword and runs towards me.

 

And in that moment, close to eternal banishment, I remember.

 

Narya, Narya! Look it’s a wishing well!

 

Let’s make a wish Benzoia!

 

What will you wish for Narya? What will make you happy?

 

I wish to be the greatest warrior of the Blessed realm! I wish to defeat a great demoness and be called a hero!

 

That’s great!

 

What do you want Benzoia? What will make YOU happy?

 

What I want? What I want is for you to be happy.

 

“What I want is for you to be happy” I repeat. And in that instant, silence reigned and all I can hear is Narya’s tears falling to the cursed ground.

 

And nothing more.

 

The End