Fear

The field of battle is the birth of all gods. This grass we trod down was the only manger we would need. We rushed towards the waiting mass of the enemy, those city builders, those men of stone who knew not their place. What could they tell us of the hills and the forests? Nothing. They knew only what they made themselves. We were at a jogging pace, closing the distance with light hearts. Our archers set forth a spray of twinkling death into the morning sky. The arrows flashed red in the rising sun, then plunged into the enemy. I could see their faces and hear their anguish. We began to run.

I lifted my spear as our footsteps turned into a storm sound. Our voices rose to match it, mine springing out without thinking. Their lines were so orderly. It would be a joy to break them. Torvoss was out ahead, and carried only his mace. I saw him draw first blood, ripping a shield down, crushing a man in a single blow. And then we were upon them. I felt the favored pain in my arm when my spear drove home. My sword came next as I dodged their own clumsy spears. They didn’t know how to attack, only to defend. They belonged inside their walls. I slew another, then another. Every which way I saw them falling and us cutting them down. We were favored to be gods.

But then the thunder changed. Lower, heavier, like the voices of the heavens from far across the valley. My heart checked itself. What spell was this? Then I saw them. Men with four legs, twice as tall, each with a head of a man and a head of a beast. Like sheep, but with the strength of oxen. I felt the ground shake as they neared, saw their line break into us like water. I would kill one, if nothing else. I charged with a new yell, slew a foot soldier, rode him into the ground and leapt up, sword point right into the beast man. His eyes were wide with fear, and he split, the human from the beast. I felt his spear in my chest, but I cut him again as we fell. On the ground now, he was just a man. We would both die here, but his fear debased him. Only I would live again as a god. I laughed and pulled the spear from me. Warm blood; the end.