Victory

Kuzha had never seen such destruction as that of the battlefield before her. Smeared with blood and dirt, she forced herself into silent stillness in order to watch the retreating enemy and contemplate the damage and despair both opponents had created beneath the clash of metal and magic. Faintly, she heard the worn, half-hearted cheers of her allies and friends, and she realized her own voice had joined with the commotion of victory. Still, her eyes were solemn and brimming with tears as the hard realization of their foolish war struck an already weakened heart. Quietly, she vowed to never again see a battlefield.

Kuzha! We won, Love!” The familiar shout caused her head to turn in an uncomfortable direction. There she saw Zanoke racing towards her, a single cobalt eye gleaming beneath the rain that had begun to soak the battlefield only moments ago. The other eye was, ironically, washed with fresh blood and grime. Seeing him in such a state, Kuzha finally broke into sobs and easily collapsed into his eager arms. “What’s wrong?”

Zanoke had seen the battles before and knew the outcome. At times Kuzha almost thought he felt some admiration for the act of killing. Never before had she known the despair he had already faced countless times. “It’s horrible. How can people be happy in a place like this?” The images that filled her head forced her to clutch his torn clothing more viciously than before. She felt his chest heave with a sigh.

“Kuzha… the first battle is not always the worst, but the more you see, the less you care. Pray that you will never see such pain and loss again, but know that to some of us, this IS our world.” He stood then, drawing her up as well and comforting her with slow strokes through her hair. “The war has ended today, just as Alta said it would.”

Suddenly, Kuzha broke away, her mind flooded with thoughts of the young Chosen. “Alta… Where’s Alta?” As if on cue, the ground shook angrily and the horizon was ablaze with false light. She felt her breath catch in her throat. “Can’t be…” Without warning, she took off towards the source of the light, Zanoke trailing behind her as she reached the crest of the hill concealing the mysterious spectacle.

Beyond the ridge stood two forms, revealed to be male and female as the light slowly faded. Squinting, Kuzha could vaguely make out the soft, defining curves of the virtuous protectress and the harsher, broader lines of her faceless opponent. Upon the wind floated the strained words of the tired Chosen, gracing the young woman’s ears in bits and pieces. There were whispers of war and death, gasps about power and evil. Kuzha edged forward unconsciously, attempting to improve her hearing, as Alta’s conversation with the nameless enemy grew softer, quieter. Finally, the curious, concerned eavesdropper came within decent range.

“…hoping to end an era of false order and peace. How could you believe such a lie when you yourself are part of the driving force behind the true chaos of our time?” Kuzha saw the sleek, slim brow of the Chosen furrow, white robes billowing wetly out behind her as she stood defiantly before her dark counterpart. “You are a fool, Brima!”

A loud, low succession of grunts- the man’s attempt at laughter- flowed bitterly from pursed lips. “You have seen so much, gone so far, fought so hard, and yet you know nothing… I am not the fool, my dear girl. I am free of the vision that blinds you and bonds you to a cruel fate of loneliness. You think me only a child playing with elements I know nothing of, but you are mistaken, lovely daughter. You are so very mistaken…” Kuzha was nearly thrown from her feet, caught only from behind by an unshaken Zanoke, as the mysterious adversary to the determined Chosen caused the land to groan in trembling pain with the simple touch of his hand upon the blood-soaked earth. Still, Alta stood tall against the rocking of the dirt beneath her booted feet, slim form unwavering in the midst of the show of power.

“You corrupt the world itself, Brima… with your very hands, you desecrate this sacred place!” No more words were spoken as Alta’s fingers came alive with blue-laced fire that brilliantly defied the steadily pouring rain. Brima smiled sinisterly in response and directed a single, empty palm out towards the waiting Alta. In one blurred moment, the two lunged towards each other over the barren, bloodied battlefield and met at the center in a blinding clash of power, light, and flame. Kuzha was forced to dive for cover as the tremors returned and shockwaves covered the plains in bruising, unexplainable waves. In the midst of it all, Kuzha heard herself cry out to her friend, but such a cry was lost among the chaos.

In time, the tremors ceased and Kuzha climbed unsteadily to her feet in order to seek out Alta. Yet even as she searched she saw that there, beyond the small ridge upon which Kuzha stood, were only the scorched ruins of upturned earth.

~ by eeratka on October 20, 2007.