Council of Elders Ch. 06

"Oh my!" God laughed. He seemed to do nothing but laugh and smile, and it was impossible to reconcile this image with the wrathful God of the Bible. "You see the thing is: the world is stranger than you can imagine. A whole supernatural subculture exists right below your nose. Most people never see it, but some are lucky enough to glimpse it even for a fraction of a second."

"But where do I fit into this? What did you mean about me being 'born in a world of chaos'?"

"Well I could tell you, but I think it would be easier to show you." God clapped his hands together and a wash of colour flooded the landscape.

They were standing over a battlefield. Owen was struck dumb by the sheer violence of the scene. The fight was still raging below them with three clearly defined sides. On one corner of the triangle was a mass of black-clad people with swords over their backs. To their right was an army of men and women who looked like Fenris, tall, proud and strong. The final group was harder to make out clearly. There were far fewer of them, but their size made up for their lack of numbers.

"The golems of the desert were my first sentient creations on this world. I will always hold them dear to my heart, for they were the purest of all my works. They were massacred for trying to keep the peace between the werewolves and the vampires." It was clear that the war had been raging for a long time; the number of broken bodies that lay scattered over the land was a testament to that.

"I'm afraid not, young man. This was the conflict known as the 'Seven Day War'. It lasted a week, but in that time, millions were slaughtered. An entire race was wiped off the face of the Earth." Time flashed forward and Owen felt slightly disorientated.

"This is the last day of the war." Owen gasped as he saw the greatly reduced armies. There was only one golem left and despite the odds, he was fending off every attack that came his way. "Oberoth was the last and greatest of his kind, the most magically gifted individual I ever saw until your friend Fenris was born." Owen watched as the stone man blasted dozens of his enemies into dust with just a click of his fingers.

"Fenris can do that?" He asked with fear in his quavering voice. The gentle giant he knew could never be so callous.

"He could, if he wanted to. But the young werewolf is a much softer individual that the golem ever was. Oberoth grew cynical with age whereas Fenris' love of life would stop him from acting so cruelly. He is certainly capable of it however." God chuckled at the cross look in Owen's eyes. "I know you would never think ill of him, but there is darkness in his heart as there is in all people. He may torture the Daemon who attacked you as revenge."

Owen shuddered and looked back to the battle raging below him. He spotted something that made him tug at the old man's arm.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at a red void that had opened up in the sky.

"That, young man, is the reason you're currently dead." God blinked and suddenly they were standing by the void and watching as monsters poured out of it. He spotted a woman who looked just like the Daemon who had attacked him moments ago. The creatures descended on the battlefield, it was only Oberoth's voice that made the werewolves and vampires stop fighting. As one, they turned to face the mysterious enemy and braced themselves for the impact.

This next onslaught lasted for hours. The home team had the advantage, but they still suffered heavy losses. It was clear that while the enemies from beyond the portal were formidable, they had no concept of teamwork and were unconcerned with the safety of the other members of their group. Without warning, the remaining Daemons rose into the air and raced back to the void as fast as they could. Oberoth sent one final wave of magic after them, disintegrating dozens of fleeing monsters, and the void slammed shut with a noise like a thunderclap.

Owen watched in amazed silence as werewolf and vampire alike ceased battle and wept for the loss of their brethren. They were drawn together by the misery that had suffered and only afterwards realised that they had been fighting the wrong enemy all along. It was awful to behold and Owen felt tears fall from his own eyes as he watched them.

"That was the day that the Triumvirate was formed. One representative from the vampires and the werewolves as well as Oberoth." The old man was clearly affected by the bloodshed they had witnessed and Owen couldn't imagine what the pain of watching your children slaughtering each other must feel like. "Your friend Caesar was the general of the werewolf army. He was a fearless leader but he was one who detested war and all of its follies. The vampire general went into isolation after the war and his second in command was chosen to be the representative, though Malus was never the man his predecessor was. Oberoth was the last of his people and he bore the entire weight of his history upon his shoulders, but he was never one to shirk responsibility.

"Where is the vampire general now?" Owen asked curiously.

"They say that he went into hiding and swore never to feed from humans again. He was a good man, though he never saw it himself. He was born without the human compassion that I tried to instil in all of my children. But that never stopped him from wanted to feel empathy, to understand the emotions he had been born lacking." God smiled fondly at the memory of the impetuous young psychopath who had begged him for the power to love.

"But you must know where he went. You're God, for god's sake."

"Indeed I am." God grinned and the scene suddenly shifted back to a white haze. "Now, you have a decision to make."

"Huh? I thought you said I was dead?" Owen was perplexed.

"You are dead, but that doesn't have to be the end of things. You could go back if you wanted to. Of course, there would be a few... changes to your appearance, but nothing drastic." God was being intentionally unhelpful at this point and Owen knew it.

"Okay. Send me back." Owen said simply.

"It's gonna hurt. But a little pain never stopped anyone did it?" The old man started to hum tunelessly and a patch of yellow light opened up behind Owen. The boy turned and was about to step through when he suddenly thought of something to ask the old man. He swivelled around with his mouth open and was about to voice his query when God gave him a hard shove and he spiralled into the yellow light.