Battle of the Gods

The Battle of the Gods

Grey dark clouds release thousands upon thousands of rain drops on to the muddy earth. Animals of the forest scurry into their burrows and holes in the trees avoiding the on slot of sky water. One creature, in particular, looks down a muddy road and sees an animal walking on its hind legs. Its boots make noise as it splashes through the dirt water. The hooded, red sweater the thing wears only shields so much on the soaking blue jeans. The boy stops at the edge of the road to look down from a cliff overseeing a galaxy. The stars look so peaceful and lovely shining their lights to break through the dullness of the storm. Trying to look through his brown hair, the pale green eyes scan upward to the sun of the galaxy. A stone, spiked pillar widening with more spikes and pillars, the rock appears grim with its windows creating a face of evil. But it doesn’t stop the boy from looking straight into its eyes and seeing the true evil behind the mask.
“Are you sure you should be doing this?” says a kind, lovely voice.
“Let him, allow his anger to fuel his strength!” cries a stern, angry voice.
“Strike hard and fast, with all your heart,” replies an intellectual voice. The boy turns around and returns down the mud road. He reaches the fork in the road he had previously seen, and he takes the road he had not trek upon. As he continues on the path, the stars pull in flat, wooden planets that come together and surround the star leaving spaces all around to reveal its light. He nears the entry and crosses a bridge, stops, and looks down into the dirty water. The liquid becomes solid, the solid becomes wood, and the wood becomes a house of comfort, and happiness. He sees a couple sitting down at the table talking as they hear the storm outside their cottage. Suddenly the winds whips open the door and the wind takes form of demonic creatures, Hell Hounds, they ran sack the place tearing everything apart.  The couple can only put so many defenses around them, but they too are torn to shreds. The hounds return to their master standing in the doorway. The boy sees all of this and then turns around to a dark hallway where a child quivers in shock to be seeing the lightning bolt revealing someone of remembrance, his uncle.
The boy, no longer a child shaking in distress, but a warrior ready to fight for life, liberty and freedom moves his vision back towards the entrance of the town and continues to it. The people of the stars look at the teenage male walking down the dirty pathway from their windows, and as the red hoody passes their openings on his back is a copper shield and old sheath. The boy meets the mote of the spiked castle as the drawbridge lowers down revealing demons waiting on the other side. They strike. The boy stands there as the footsteps increase in speed, but so does the rain.
“These demons do not wear armor. That will be their down fall, for the crescent moon is upon us!”  A smiling moon glistens through the cumulonimbus cloud and then suddenly the rain become like arrows and strike the demons from above either to the ground or into the mote, and the boy walks into the castle with no trouble. As the boy walks into the foyer of the pillar temple, more demons rush towards him.
“You do not wade through these lands without my permission!”  The water from the mote increases in quantity as it enters the stone vault pushing the demons into the many cracks and doors of the castle where they’ll drown back to where they came. But the boy does not move during the pulsations, like an anchor, like something the waters do not wish to trouble. The boy walks dry to the spiraling stairs. As always, more demons rampage to him, but their stomps don’t out echo the sound of thunder from the storm outside the windows that line the staircase.
“The demons should bow to my words. For what I say goooooooeees.”  The howling winds whip through and around the tower, surrounding the boy in a swirling sphere of air that move the creatures out of the way and tumble down the long spike. It isn’t until the very top that the moving wind stops and the boy opens the door to the top most chamber of the stone palace.
“Hello, nephew,” says the uncle turning around with his goatee and comb back hair. His dark green eyes look at the adolescent as his contradict the boy’s pale leafs on his face.
“Still silent I see,” says the ruler shrugging shoulders covered by dark red, black, and green robes of silk, “Oh well. I guess you saved me the trouble of coming to you.” His right hand goes into his robe and pulls out a blade.
“You will die,” whispers the boy pulling out a dull sword and holding in front of him with both hands.
“With that pathetic excuse for a weapon, I don’t think so,” replies the Uncle. The battle begins. The sound of metal against metal echo throughout the stone chamber as furniture are cut in half and damaged. The sound stops and the room is starting to fill up with the huffing and puffing sound of tiredness.
“You think can defeat me all alone.”
“I’m not alone,” says the boy clutching his stomach where a cut is at his side. The uncle now stands perfectly with his blade in hand, but behind him a ghostly figure appears
“Where is Narcissus?” asks the ghost
“I’ll tell you after you do me a favor,” thinks the boy. The ghost behind the man opens her mouth and echoes of sound surround the room and make the Uncle bend down in agony covering his ears. The boy stands up still holding his wound, and the man looks up to him, musters his strength and pushes the boy upward towards one of the corners of the room. He stood up again thanks to the shield of Hephaestus have given him, but the wall didn’t fair so good it got destroyed by the blast of the push. The sound stops being dismiss by the sound of thunder all around the two fighters, one still staggering the other standing.
“You still won’t kill me with that blade of yours,” says the uncle regaining his balance. The boy picks up the blade that had fallen when he was pushed, but the dullness faded away and a new sword is in his hands. The Uncle is in shock to see the instantaneous change, but also because a sword was driven through his abdomen.
“I will reclaim my throne,” says the boy still holding the blade and whispering into the ear of his Uncle at his level. But then the boy feels a thud and he finds himself on the stone floor see a stabbed man looking down at him and starting to raise his sword up to the sky. The boy’s eyes widen with fear of death, but the people down below were watching the whole thing and they start to see a brighter lightning bolt miles away.
“Stay away from him!” The bolt of light bends towards the tip of the blade of the uncle and electrocutes him. The boy gets up looking down at the charred body.
“Time for a cremation,” says the boy igniting a blue flame in the palm of his hand, “And let’s hope Hades will have mercy on your soul.” The body turns to ashes and the sun shines through the storm as it stops. Days later, the young King smiles at his brighter universe.