The God Warriors (2 page)

Elsa Dragod paused as she reached the end of the column and turned sharply, her raven black ponytail flipping around then slapping against her back as she reversed her steps, her eyes never leaving the men and women arrayed before her while she tapped the sheath of the sword at her side with each step. This was her company, hers, the best of the best, or at least she told herself that and trained them to be so. They had not started out that way but with hard work and training had become just that. Blood, sweat, and tears had forged this company into the finest in the kingdom of Jordache, the parcel of dirt they called home.

The leather jerkin with its steel breast and back plates weighed lightly on her six-foot robust frame, though her chest ached slightly from the compression. Once cinched tightly to her torso, the breastplate squashed her breasts unmercifully against her ribcage, and she knew from past experience that the dull ache would turn into actual pain before the day was out. She and her sister warriors hated the necessity of wearing the breast plate,but it was the only material capable of shielding against sword and spear strikes, while remaining light enough to maneuver in. The designers had attempted to alleviate this issue for women with a female version that had two convex mounds on its upper surface,conforming to the female breast, but the extrusions were small and Elsa was quite large.

Dark brown leather pants with cuisses strapped to them, along with greaves over her shins and heavy leather boots, completed the picture of the captain of a Jordache company. Combined with her medium blue eyes and strong features, she cut a striking figure, not beautiful, but memorable.

As she passed each of those beside her, gazing into their eyes, lightening quick flickers observed the state of their combat dress. Halfway down the line, she suddenly swiveled her head with sharp and deadly eyes to the man two paces behind her.

"Johann! What in the three levels of Hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted. Even as she spoke, she saw his eyes leave the guard next to him and quickly swivel forward with the others, a sheepish grin on his face. A grin cut short as she turned completely around, heading in his direction.

"Nothing, Commander!" he shouted back. However, it was too late, as her strong right hand snaked out to grip the leather of his neck guard, pulling his eyes even with hers. Though he outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, Elsa was stronger and used this to her advantage, pulling him closer until mere inches separated their eyes.

"What did I tell you about talking in ranks when under inspection, soldier?!" she screamed into his face, seeing specs of spittle coating his cheeks. Not because she was particularly upset, but because it would probably hurt his eardrums and scare the hell out of him, which was what she intended.

"That you would make my life miserable, if you ever caught me again, Commander!" he shouted in response with a look of chagrin on his face.

"Dress full pack, including weapons, twenty laps around the training field, and three days of extra guard duty. I hope it was worth it," again she shouted and saw his eyes cringe at the punishment. Inwardly, she grinned and turned away as his shoulders slumped. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he trotted to the sacks filled with fieldstone by the side of the training field shed, where they stored their practice gear. Each pack weighed approximately eighty pounds.It was her favorite punishment for those unfortunate enough to get on her bad side. Everyone at one time or another talked in ranks, but it was the fact that he had been obvious about it, allowing others to see and for her to catch him at it, that was disrespectful. It would have set a bad precedent to let it go unpunished.

She continued to look at each face as she paced forward in her review of the company. She had trained with all of them and she knew that some would not be alive in the next few weeks. It was a harsh world out there, with almost everyone nearby against them. Jordache was alone.

John Storm opened his eyes slowly while drawing in a deep breath, his senses coming alive as he detected the fragrance of evergreens and a bouquet of sweet incense. Above him was an indistinct ceiling of a white so pure, it almost hurt his eyes to gaze upon its glowing surface. Quickly, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, for each breath brought more energy into his body. A strange sensation that was nonetheless true. It was as if the air were supercharged with energy, and when it entered his lungs, he could feel those particles of energy moving throughout his body, a sensation of wholeness and living that he had never experienced before.

This had to be a hospital room
, he thought as he wondered what had happened to him. His mind was almost blank and memories were difficult to link together yet getting stronger as he became more awake. His last thought before now had involved turning the lights out on the bedside lamp as he lay there with the TV finally off, stretching out to place his third empty beer on the nightstand. His dog, Kali, already asleep on a throw rug beside the queen sized bed and the soft whir of the dehumidifier working its magic in the other room to keep the basement refreshed. He remembered the feel of the blanket as he pulled it up across his chest while relaxing, thinking of the woodworking he would do the following morning. A simple cherry dining table that needed refinishing, a task he could perform almost blind. It involved careful sanding, paying attention to the intricate molding, and then wiping down the wood with alcohol before applying several coats of lacquer.

The beer he had consumed made his head buzz. Not necessarily a good thing at his age, yet he did not care. His father had lived into his nineties, but John knew he would not live that long with the punishment he had given his body. The old shell he was walking around in was failing faster than modern medicine could keep up with, but he never dwelled on that aspect. At seventy-two, he knew he had led a good life and was for the most part content. Although his wife Elizabeth had died almost ten years ago due to cancer, he had a daughter he occasionally saw, a loving family, and a dog who was truly his best friend. His stepson checked on him almost daily, and, occasionally, his brother would come by to drag him to a family dinner. John had no regrets. Well, maybe one. It would be nice to take Kali, his dog, with him into the afterlife when he eventually went.

He had been many things in his life. Dishwasher and paperboy, store clerk and gas station attendant, but the occupation he was most proud of was that of a Marine. Being one of the few, the proud, and the faithful was the highlight of his life. He had spent thirty-six years in the Corps, starting as a lowly private then working his way up to full Colonel after he went to school for mechanical engineering in his off duty hours and earned his commission. Thirty-six years…more missions of death and dying than he cared to think about, also more crap than he cared to ponder. However, he had done his best and actually excelled. The Corps had taught him the meaning of courage, which was to rise above the fear of a situation and still get the job done, no matter the odds. However, that was almost over now.

He eventually retired to a leisurely life of fishing, light hunting, and channel hopping, before major boredom set in by the end of three weeks. Then one day he was watching his ten-year-old grandson, Billy, who lived and breathed online gaming. With nothing more important to do until his daughter arrived to pick the little guy up, John had watched him play. It was what Billy called a MMORPG, or Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game. John found his interest building as he watched his grandson play with hundreds of other real people, many of them adults, and soon found himself giving advice on tactics for the particular medieval game his grandson was playing. It was interesting, more than interesting, as he found the experience his military background provided allowed his grandson to excel in the battles, as long as Billy followed Grandpa's advice.

By the end of the evening, he was hooked on gaming and bored no longer. It was a challenge to use your intelligence, knowledge, and training to compete against others on a level playing field. Too much of anything got boring, and within two years, he had won awards, owned worlds and massive star fleets, all with the help of hundreds of others who followed him and his advice in tactics and strategy when fighting in battle after battle. When you become the best of the best, you move on.

Therefore, he started up woodworking as a hobby. It was a soothing exercise for his body that let his mind go blank and explore the boundaries of his imagination. Similar to that moment just before sleep overtook his body, his mind would drift outward and imagine all manner of possibilities. Even now, in this hospital room he lay in, he could only wonder how he came to be here. Obviously, something had failed in his body.Either his daughter or brother found him when he did not answer the phone, which caused them to check on him. Then, seeing him lying there, they had called an ambulance. The beer was the culprit, of course, or perhaps his dinner of cheese and salami, or possibly, it was all three, but he did not particularly care. He would live his last years how he wished, and it was that simple. He sighed as he realized some quack of a doctor would severely reprimand him for his transgressions and expound on a balanced diet that lacked alcohol. He braced himself for the inevitable.

[I am not a doctor and I am certainly not a quack, John. I am a god.]

The thought came unbidden into his mind and had the flavor of a deep, rich baritone voice, seeming to originate from his right, laced with an indeterminate accent. Instantly, John's eyes snapped open as his head turned sideways to view the man, if that was what it was beside him. The being was dressed in medieval Japanese warrior attire, that of leather and plate vest with scalloped platelets leading down to his upper thighs. Metal greaves on his upper and lower arms and lower legs almost completed the picture of an ancient warrior and what made it perfect was the footwear, which consisted of heavy leather boots, encased in additional armor of what looked like hardened steel plates. The face was hard and haughty, a visage of distinct Japanese descent with high-arched brows overcasting brown eyes with a scar that traversed from the man's left temple to almost his chin. The dark, almost black hair was pulled back tightly, woven into a braided ponytail, and draped over his right shoulder.

What unnerved John was the fact that every piece of metal adorning this man glowed and was made of what appeared to be brightly polished gold, with intricate designs inlaid upon its surface in silver. Across his belly, in a black sash, he wore what could only be a traditional katana, but of longer than average length and width, its hilt wrapped in what looked like leather and ropes spun from gold. In addition, a medium length wakizashi sheathed at the man's side pointed backwards and a shield of some variety hung strapped to his back, its rim also gold tinted. Belted to the top of his left boot was a tanto dagger, the handle made of bone or polished white wood. John shook his head, thinking himself crazy, then closed his eyes before opening them again. But the man was still there, as was the indistinct glowing white wall behind him.

[You like?] Came the voice again, and John watched as he twirled in place to show off the entire ensemble.

"And what or who are you supposed to be?" John chose to ignore the god comment.

[Oh, I was just getting ready to go dream hopping, dressed as a warrior with a samurai slant. What do you think?]

"It works. Maybe a bit too much glow, though. You're so bright, you appear fuzzy."

[Oh, excellent advice. My thanks for the input. How is that?] Immediately the glow dimmed to half its former brightness.

"Works."

Ok, so I'm in the middle of a dream and will probably wake up soon. Good to know,
thought John as he closed his eyes again and raised his hands to rub his face, trying to rouse himself out of slumber. A sterile white room and an old style Japanese warrior were not his idea of fun at this point in life.

[John, you are not experiencing what you call dreaming. Your help is required, so it is time to get back to work. You also need to make a decision.]

"My will is already made out!"

[Not that kind of decision, and by the way, there's no reason to believe you are speaking out loud, as you're not in corporeal form. Simply think what you want to say, and I'll hear it.]

Look, whoever you are, I'm obviously hallucinating, so if you're a doctor, simply give me whatever it is you give to people who hallucinate, so I can get up and go home. If this is a dream, then I'm going to wake up soon, and I have a really busy day today.
John started stretching his eyes wide open, trying to wake up, but it had no effect. Frowning, he pinched himself in several places but still had no luck. Weird.

[That will not work, for you are not dreaming. You are dead. Actually, your former mortal shell has ceased to exist,] laughed the figure before him, taking a step closer while gazing down at John with a thoughtful and kind expression.

Ha! If I'm dead, then who are you? Saint Peter dressed up in ancient medieval Japanese armor? I'm in a hospital bed, hallucinating and talking to myself
. John did not believe for a second he was dead as this whole experience was simply too bizarre to be anything but.

[I am Ares. Perhaps you have heard of me. You probably know me as the God of War, bloodshed, and violence, though that is not entirely true. I am also the god of peace, warfare, battle strategy, and wisdom.] A soft laugh accompanied the voice in his head.

Military history and ancient deities were favorite pastimes of John's, and if it was one thing he knew, it was Greek mythology.
You just described yourself as being Ares and Athena. I'm not sure you can be both
, thought John to the figure, still convinced that he was dreaming or hallucinating.

[I see you actually know very little about the gods, the actual gods, or what people think of as a god. Athena was never a god, simply a myth created by those who lost against those I supported. They created her with some of my attributes, either to irritate me or somehow hope she would materialize, enabling them to win. Let me ask you this. What do you think a god is?]

Well, that there is one true God who had a son, Jesus Christ, born of a virgin, etc
.

[Well, that is true to a certain extent, but nothing is as it really seems. We will get back to that later. Answer this. Why do you think there are Greek gods?]

Personally, I think bored and lonely people made them up.

Another laugh, then, [You are correct about most gods, but how do you explain hundreds, sometimes thousands of individuals claiming to have seen the same being?]

You got me there. Mass hallucinations, perhaps, or the need to belong to something or some group, which means they lied about their experience
.

[Well, the latter is certainly true, but there is no such thing as a mass hallucination. Not like you mean it. Let me ask it in a different way. Suppose for a moment that there is what some people call gods out there, like me. How would we come into being with our godlike powers?]

I would assume the power of belief. If enough people believe or pray to something, somewhere, it just might happen, and it's the only logical explanation I've heard.

[As far as I know, that does not work. Would you mind if I educated you?]

Go ahead and educate me. I can't seem to go anywhere else anyways
.

[Actually, you could go if you honestly tried, but I see I have attracted your interest with our conversation. So listen carefully, John. Gods are not created by man, thought, or by two other gods giving birth. As far as I know, and my knowledge is extensive, they form in the voids when energies collide, which includes dead stars, black holes, neutron stars, you name it. When a collision is powerful enough to warp both space and time, well, sometimes when this happens, something forms within that event and holds together, eventually forming a consciousness. The beings that have sprung into existence have no personality initially, not as you would understand it. Consider them a newborn babe, growing into their power and consciousness, able to manipulate energy to a certain degree and the fabric of time but not time itself.]

Wait! Why not time? I thought you gods, if you’re real, could do anything. What's the word—omnipotent
.

[Hardly, and knowing everything is not the same thing as being able to do everything. There are laws in place to prevent that, in a manner of speaking. Regardless, nothing can manipulate time itself, only the fabric of time. Do you understand the difference?]

Ah, no.

[Time is like a fast moving river, and you are in a boat traveling at the same speed, but without paddles. You cannot go faster or slower, and, no, you cannot use your hands. But, you can see up and down the river for quite some distance, depending on how sharp your eyesight is. Now, let us say you put a hull over your boat and submerge all the way to the other side of the river. You will quickly see that instead of a river, you are actually in a river ribbon of incredible depth, with billions of threads traveling along with you. As you submerge, your reality changes; you experience new things, new wonders. These are dimensions, different universes, whatever you wish to call them. We are in one now, my mother’s.]

Wait. You just told me gods are not born. How then can you have a mother? You were born after all!

[No, I was already an entity, but Mother is much stronger than I am, has a notable female personality and tries to look out for many of the rest of us, so we call her Mother. She is what we refer to as an elder god. You would consider me a lesser god, verging on elder. However, strength is relative, is it not? Every god has a domain, but the key to keeping that domain sacrosanct directly relates to how powerful a god is.]

So, what is my God then? An elder god, obviously, right
?

[We will get to that, John. Everything in order, as it is easier to understand that way. I was explaining how gods formed and developed. I will continue. After an impossible length of time, the newly formed entity starts to develop a personality, but it is like a small child's. At this point, you need to realize that gods seem to be constructive or destructive. Another way to put it would be Order or Chaos, which are the terms we gods prefer. For whatever reason, a newly formed entity desires to either build or destroy. I am a god of Order because, even though I wage war, it is for a better overall purpose, usually to help a civilization move forward. So now, we have an Entity that is of Order. This being craves it and seeks out anything to satisfy that craving. That is where you humans and others come into play. We play in the time stream, so we see souls as they enter and can detect what they are like: their memories, feelings, personality.]

Wait, wait. Why would souls be in the time stream?

[John, let me finish, please. We newly formed entities feel these thoughts, these patterns, and some feel more comfortable than others. Those we feel a familiarity with, we follow back to the source of the soul, like your planet Earth. Once there, we immerse ourselves in these preferable patterns, and, over time, the growth of our personality is complete. Call it an imprinting. We start communicating with the beings of those planets, and they call us gods once they get to know us. Now, as a god with followers, we try to please our worshipers to a certain extent. We wish to make them happy. Like myself. I originally imprinted to a warlike race that greatly desired peace, so I learned everything I could about war in order to achieve the peace my followers desired, through the proper application of arms.] A soft chuckle resounded within his mind and [Finally] came at last.

So you did not originate on Earth
?

[No, I certainly did not. Moreover, if you are wondering why I left earth, it is because the people stopped believing in me. I felt useless and moved on. What you need to realize is that we gods have been conscious longer than you can possibly imagine. As long as our followers need us, we will stay and support them in their endeavors. Without that, we simply float away in search of new experiences. However, even that is not correct. You might consider our consciousness like that of a computer. I can send parts of me to other places, all of them still connected. All of them experiencing what each of the aspects are experiencing. It is hard to put into human terms, but they are all me. There is no difference, whether I am here or there, because it is still all me. This is why I can be on earth and on another world for thousands of years. Everything is connected.]

Okay, now could you answer my questions about souls, my god, souls in the time stream, why we're in your mother’s domain, and heck, why we're even talking? Oh, and who is your mother
?

[Yes, John.] Laughter. [The easiest way is to show you, make you remember your transcendence. For whatever reason, souls block that out of their conscious memories. This will not hurt, but you may find it a bit disorienting.] With that, the one who called himself Ares reached down and touched a fingertip to John's forehead, and John remembered, as a deep pit of blackness opened in his mind and swallowed him headfirst.

As he travelled for an indeterminate amount of time, he saw a light far ahead, slowly coming into focus. Then he realized the light was actually a stream of multi-colored lights rising or passing through the deep blackness of space. Individual glowing spheres of semi-translucent energy slowly travelled within the black. There were millions of these lights—no billions, or perhaps more as the number was too vast to count. Each was unique in its own pattern of colors, and as he focused on an individual orb, his eyes somehow translated those colors into a single image.

Men, women, and children, all of varying ages looking upward, just as he was doing, many with smiles on their faces, surrounded him. He knew without any doubt he was looking at souls. What struck him as wonderful was that some of those he viewed for a time were not even human, but with no doubt whatsoever, he knew they were sentient.

[Yes, John, you are correct. What you are witnessing is the nether sphere where all souls go before being claimed. The nether sphere is a step out of time but still part of the space-time continuum. Once claimed they are transferred into their gods’ realm. You also correctly identified sentient beings from other races. The universe and dimensions are quite diverse, though not to the extent you might think. Now, continue to remember!] stated the voice with an edge of humor, but John was barely paying attention as his eyes, or what passed for eyes here, showed him wonders he had never thought to experience.

Another indeterminate length of time passed as the universe opened before his senses. Streams of energy intertwining together into patterns that were both complex and simple at the same time, but now they were flowing in both directions. As they flew past, they, he knew these were new souls going where they were most needed.