The Trials of War Part 1

The Trials of War Part 1

The Trials of War

Images ran through her restless mind. The scenes of war; the endless terrors and sufferings of the battlefield. She could still see their faces, lying on the cold, harsh earth. Their faces in a perpetual scream. The last thing that echoed through her mind was the screaming of the young victims and the few simple words, “Those who have been in war would never start one”.
“Ah!” she awoke suddenly with a startled scream. It was the same dream she'd had since the start of the Great War. The war had been lasting for twenty odd years and it seemed peace would never come. She was the Queen of her land; well at least what land she had claimed as hers.
“The same dream Zal?” yawned Damien sleepily. He had been her faithful companion throughout both of their lives. He stretched, awoken from his own slumber. His ebony black hair fell over his eyes as he waited for her reply.
“Yeah unfortunately,” she sighed, “I haven't gotten one good nights sleep in so long.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, and it showed midnight. Sighing she put on her armor and grabbed her broadsword. Even though she was a druid and could therefore shape shift, she was supposed to wear the broadsword as the commonly accepted symbol of a war leader.
“Shall I assemble the troops?” Damien asked, already preparing his armor and weapons.
“No. Not tonight; let the poor things rest,” she said after a pause as she pulled her brown hair out of her leather. She never wore heavy armor, it would be too difficult to transform with it on. She glanced quickly at Damien, allowing him to only see her eyes as they changed from their normal blue to a bright golden color and then quickly returned to normal.
“Zalonia,” Damien said much more seriously this time, “is this really a game to you?” He finished putting on his meager amount of leather armor as well. He couldn't shift forms, however he was a necromancer of sorts, and could therefore use the war to his own advantage.
“No,” she stated calmly, “I just want this to end. I don't want to see any more of our people getting killed.”
The war had started because she hated the accusations of her type of people being “evil”. She ruled over things like werewolves and the creatures of the night, and those who considered themselves “The Divine” couldn't understand how someone could side with the night. They were beings of the day; all things that radiate and are civil. Her kind were the beings of the night; all things that go bump in the night and are considered barbaric. That didn't make them evil though, merely different. They still cared, they still loved, and everything else the Divine thought they couldn't comprehend such matters. There was evil in the land of course, however it existed on both sides.
Zalonia herself had to put up with the riots against her power. Some did it because they did not agree with a female being in control. Others did it because they felt it was her fault the war had lasted so long and assumed she had an odd obsession with war. However there were the select few who did it just because they didn't feel she was being cruel enough.
She would tend to the wounds of her enemies if they pleaded mercy, she would avoid having to fight in front of children, and there were so many things she did good that the evil made a pact against her. However, she did these good deeds not only to clear up the horrible stories of her kind, but also because she would not feel good about herself if she let innocent people get harmed either emotionally or physically.
There was a problem with her tactics that the Divine had solved for their own leaders; she wanted to stay in the battlefield with her troops. The Divine kept their leaders in their castles and safeguards, but Zalonia wanted to see the destruction she was causing. This is what created her dreams and kept her from ever sleeping soundly, but she felt it was the best way to be driven to stop the war. The main problem with that plan was the fact that she was so unique. She was easily spotted by her enemies because of her ears, tail, and wings. However she had been taught recently how to hide them so she appeared human and not druid.
“You don't have to hide yourself around me,” Damien stated roughly. He was always annoyed whenever she wasn't herself around him.
She woke up from her daze as soon as his words hit her ears. She had been staring at the clock, planning her attack.
“R-right” she stammered and relaxed. If she ever relaxed she would show her more natural form which is why she never really relaxed. As soon as she relaxed a few glowing blue spheres moved themselves around her entire body. Her black wolf ears appeared first, then her jet black wings, and her black wolf tail. Her natural animal form was that of an all black wolf which was another reason for her enemies to be able to spot her easier. That and her eyes. Her eyes were often blue with gold-brown in the center, however, they would change to either all gold or all red depending on her mood. If she was in deep thought, excited, or mischievous they would become golden, but if she was in her rages they would turn several forms of red depending on the severity of the rage. A bright red to start, then the pupil would slit itself like a cat's eye, then where the white of her eyes were they would turn as black as night with only the red slitted portion visible.
In these rages she often did things she regretted deeply later. This is when she would ignore her normal want of taking care of the innocent and would fight them as mercilessly as if they were full blown generals. These images haunted her more than anything. These rages are also what caused the Divine to assume that creatures of the night were evil because all creatures of the night fell into rages on occasion. Typically when the moon was full, like it was this night.
“Lets go,” she grinned at him, showing her fangs, “I'm itching for a good fight.”
“Have it your way,” he said jokingly. They both ran out the doorway at the same time into the cold, dark night. She leaped into the air and her bones snapped and twisted as she turned into her wolf form. He summoned bones of creatures around him to take the shape of a horse that he rode along side her at roughly the same speed, after all she was the one in charge of it all.
They reached the Divine's encampment without much of a problem. She stopped suddenly and slowly transformed herself into her werewolf form. She had to do it as slowly as possible because the snapping of her bones might alarm her enemy, however, this took a lot of energy so she would have to wait and observe before she fought. Damien dismissed his horse and jumped quietly to the ground while she was still mid-transformation.
The world that they lived in ran off of energy. Everything they did required different energies; physical and magical. Physical energy was used for simple things like running and everyone had a seemingly endless supply of it. However magical energy was not as abundant. The act of transformation, summoning, spells, teleportation, or anything like it would require magic energies. Thankfully magic energy replenished itself fairly fast and the amount a person had could increase with certain objects or foods.
As she finished transforming she climbed up a nearby tree. Damien sat on the ground began preparing potions for their fight. He was extremely skilled in potion making and knew of the ancient potion for throwing the people of the night into rages. Zalonia disliked drinking it, but for what they were about to attempt to do it was required.
She sat in the tree and observed the massive encampment. There were perhaps hundreds of soldiers or more sleeping soundly in their tents. At least the element of surprise would be in their favor.
She slowly crept down and drank the prepared potion. It was a dark red with black swirls in it and she never dared to ask what he used to create it. As soon as it hit her system she transformed into her dark form. This form was why the Divine called her the Queen of Darkness. She grew two large horns that curved around her ears, her eyes hit their highest form for rage, her spine spiked out of her skin and was a solid black color, two giant bat-like wings ripped out of her back, and her wolf-like tail shed its fur and turned scaly with a leather like scythe at the end, her spine still sticking out even through the tail. Damien drank his potion as well and laughed quietly to himself. Suddenly bones covered his body like armor but were attached so strongly that he could not detach them whilst the potion remained in his system. A bunch of bones also formed a giant claymore for him and it glowed with an eerie purple. This form of his is what caused the Divine to name him the King of Death. Neither nickname was very flattering, but it did in fact explain their rage forms very well.