We are our own greatest enemies in times of war.  It is easy to become what you fight against.

Tien Shaa, Tides and Seasons

Kanu and Valeryn met up with Tuun, Pryor, and Tara in the command area of the square.  Tara’s mastery of the Eidolons had freed the living combatants from the front lines.

Kanu stared at Tara.  She looked like a statue, motionless, but her muscles were relaxed.  Her eyes moved rapidly behind her eyelids.  Her breathing was slow and steady.  She had given herself over to the battle.  Nothing could move her.

Glancing over the battlefield, the luminous fog of banished Eidolons floated over the broken bodies of dead and dying Enmadra and A’nath-ari.  

Blood covered the stones of the square.  So much death and suffering.  Crimson robed A’nath-ari rushed through the mist marking the dead with golden stones, and carrying the wounded away to be cared for by healers and physicians.

Sorrow, loss, and pain; the realization of the battle and her monstrous cost swept over Kanu’s mind.  The numbing glory of the fight had faded to the isolating reality of pain, blood, and death. 

“Are you all right?”  Valeryn asked, from somewhere behind him.

“Is this worth it?  The loss of so many lives to protect just one city,” Kanu could not take his eyes off the violence of the battlefield.

“If we did not stand here, where would we stand?”  Valeryn asked, “Is it better to fight off the aggressors or to languish under their Tyranny?  This battle would come sooner or later.  Today, we fight off the enemy.  Tomorrow, we would have to overthrow our masters, but that war would not begin until so many were murdered and brutalized that the populous had no choice but to rise up.  Which is better?”

“Neither is good.  Many would die either way.”

“Yes, but if we end this now, fewer will suffer.  He brought the war to us.  Silence in the face of totalitarianism is the tyrant’s greatest weapon.  The first obligation of every warrior is to preserve the peace.  We know the horror of war— we are the best advocates for peace.  We are the ones who fight and die for the people, not the politicians.  Take in the ghastly sight before you— this is the cost of war.  It will never leave you, haunting all your nightmares until the day you die.”

Kanu closed his eyes, but the horrors did not go away.  The sight etched itself into his eyes.  “You’re right.  I will never forget these brave souls.  As long as we continue to work for peace and justice, they did not die in vain.  I just didn’t realize how many had fallen.”

The preservation of life was something Kanu understood.  This willing destruction of life was something else entirely.

He cast his attention back to the line.  Only the oldest and most powerful Eidolons were left standing.  One of them, a grotesque shaggy haired beast, with a long muzzle and prominent fangs caught his eye.  It used its claws and curled horns to break through the line.

It ran straight for Tara.

Tuun rose into the air on his Ceeri’s wings and swooped down on the beast.  His blade bounced off its fur and slid off its body.

The beast grabbed Tuun’s robes and slammed him to the ground.  Kicking him in the face, the beast turned back toward Tara.

Pryor leapt in front of it, he threw two daggers at it, but they became tangled in its shaggy coat.

Intercepting one of the beasts mammoth hands, Pryor pulled it’s arm down and around to it’s back.  He twisted the beast’s arm, but it did not snap.

It rolled forward and kicked Pryor in the shins.  Falling on to its stomach, it pulled Pryor down with it.  The beast thrust its elbow into his abdomen.  As it stood up, Pryor fell unconscious to the ground.

Kanu formed a quarterstaff with his periapt, and stood confidently.

The beast lunged at Kanu; he rapped it hard on the crown of its head with the staff.  It stumbled over its feet.  Regaining its balance, it swung its razor-sharp claws at Kanu, who deflected them with ease.

Kanu slammed the end of the staff on the paving stones and swung his feet into the air, striking the beast hard across the face.

The Eidolon howled.  The sound sent chills down Kanu’s spine: the instinctual fear of prey when it hears its predator call.

Kanu swung the staff, and hit the beast hard on each arm.  Sparks flashed from the wounds.

“So, you’re not invincible,” Kanu smiled.

He beat the beast on either side of its face.  Quickly, with all his strength, he disoriented it.  Transforming the end of the staff into a spear, he thrust it through the beast’s chest.

Luminous fog gushed from the wound as the beast fell backward.

Sure that it had dissolved, Kanu turned around, and knelt before Tara.

“I swore my life and my honor to protect you,” said Kanu, out of breath, “I will never leave your side.  Finish this.  The time has come for you to rest.”

Daru surveyed the battlefield.  Very few of Faroh’s Eidolons remained.  She was tired, and her muscles ached.  She could not find Ianus.  Terror filled her.

She began walking out among the A’nath-ari, “Have you seen Ianus?”  She asked each one.  None of them had seen him.

*I should have stayed by his side,* she thought, *I never should have let him out of my sight.*

Catching sight of Valeryn, she hurried over to him, “Have you seen Ianus?”  She asked him as soon as she was sure he could hear her.

“The last time I saw him, Eman was taking him off toward the Temple.”

“In the middle of the battle?  Why would he...” her voice trailed off and her face fell flat.  “Faroh broke the line, didn’t he?”

Without another word, she turned and ran toward the Temple.  Every step made her fear grow.  Blood lined the streets.  Was any of it his?  Faster, she had to find him.  She had to help.  

*I will not loose him like I did Ihy,* she thought, remembering the last time she faced Faroh.  Reaching the Temple, she found Khensu and Sakkara sitting on the steps.

Tears streamed down their faces.

“What happened?”  Daru exclaimed.

“Eman told us to sit out here and wait for him,” Khensu wiped the tears from his eyes.

Daru charged up the steps, and flung the doors open.

“Ianus!”  She shouted.

Ianus and Faroh were suspended from the ceiling, hanging limp as if they had been strung up by hooks through their chest.  Cythraul floated between them, his eyes closed and arms stretched out to the bodies on either side of him.

Daru ran toward Ianus.

“Don’t!”  Eman snapped, standing up from the back pew.

Stopping, Daru looked over at him, “Why?”

“If you disrupt the simulacrum, he will die.”

“Cythraul did this, didn’t he?  Why don’t we just kill him?”  A knife formed in her hand.

“That would have the same effect.  To kill him would be to kill all three.  Besides, he would be more dangerous in death than he ever was in life.  Just sit down and pray or watch.  If you can’t do that, then get out!”

“We can’t just sit here.  We have to do something to help him.”

“What would you do?”  Eman asked, “This is his fight.  He has to do this for himself.  The battle has always been in his mind.  Now, that is where this will be won or lost.”

“What do you mean?”  Daru twirled the knife in her hand.

“Ianus and Faroh are more alike than either one would ever admit,” Eman chuckled, “This is their last chance.  A battle of wits.  All we can do is wait and see who wants it more.  Who has more faith?”

Daru sat down next to Eman, “What do we do if Faroh wins?”

“We stop him.”

“You told me that Cythraul could not take direct action or the Raewyn could become involved.”

“I told you there were rules.  The Raewyn are a tired people.  They don’t want another war.  They read the treaties by the letter, and technically Cythraul is a passive conduit for this conflict.”  Eman sighed.  “That’s the real problem, today.  The emotion has left the fight.  One side fights for revenge and greed.  The other side has become complacent.  Now the galaxy is in this sad state.  Wars and rumors of wars, vengeance and vendettas, all of the principles that should guide them have been lost.  Everyone has their own agenda, and a small minority is left to fight for what’s right.  That is the way it has always been.  That is how it will always be.”

“That’s a pessimistic note,” said Daru, dissolving the knife back into her periapt.

“Not really,” said Eman, “The poor and the disenfranchised are always willing to fight for their rights, but once they are empowered, they do to others exactly what was done to them.  We have seen it so many times.”

“There has to be something we can do about it.”

“You are special, Daru.  You actually care.  Your kind is a rare and precious thing.  If you want, you can talk to him, encourage him.  You two have a special connection to each other.  He might be able to hear you.  Remember, be calm and helpful.  If he senses your anxiety, it could work against him.”

“Are you sure it’s wise?  What if I distract him?”

“You are the one who kept asking me if there was anything you could do.  He needs you.  You are one with him, your hearts have touched.  Share your strength with him and he will be able to do anything.  Don’t hold anything back.  Tell him how you feel.”

Daru stood up and walked over to Ianus.  She could hardly bear to look at him like this.  He looked so fragile.

“Ianus,” she said cheerily, “You have to make it.  I can’t loose you.”

Ianus ran across the pew toward the wall.  Pivoting, he raised his sword.  Faroh stood on the other side of the nave smiling.

“You are a good warrior,” said Faroh, “It’s a shame I have to kill you.  I don’t have to kill you, you know.  You could always join us.  I could make you a general in my army.  In time, you could have a planet of your own.”

“For what?  What would I do with a planet?  As long as I have music and the dance, what more do I need?”

“You are incredibly short sighted for an augur,” Faroh cackled, “Has your prescience failed you?  You know in your heart that Cythraul and I are doing the right thing.  How often do you look out on the world and wished more people knew the world as you do.  They will not find the truth for themselves.  Most of them are too lazy to even try.  The truth must be taken to them.”

“By force?  You can threaten them with violence or with damnation, but that won’t help them know the truth.  They will recite after you out of fear not love.  They will not love the truth— they will fear the consequences of disbelief.  What good is that to anyone?”

“Fear is the beginning of wisdom. They will learn.  Will you join us?”

“Never!”  Ianus ran at Faroh.

Faroh rushed Ianus.  They met in the center aisle of the temple.  Their blades clashed, Faroh slipped backward from the force.

Ianus dropped and swept Faroh off his feet with a kick.

Rolling, Faroh bounced off his hands, and kicked Ianus in the face, and then he flipped into the air.  Grabbing the chandelier, he swung away.

Ianus formed two daggers and threw them at Faroh one after another and ran at him.

Faroh cut them out of the air, and dodged as Ianus punched at him.

Bringing his arm back, Ianus knocked Faroh to the ground.

Anger distorted Ianus’ face, “You killed my father!”  He began to kick Faroh, harder and harder.

Faroh wailed and curled up into a ball, as Ianus mercilessly attacked him.  Fists and feet pummeled him. 

“You deserve nothing but death!”  Ianus sneered, raising his sword over his head.

Faroh looked up at Ianus.  

Ianus dropped his sword, and gasped, “No...”  He could not see Faroh, only the broken and bloody body of his father, Ihy.  Ianus staggered backwards.  “This is not real!”  Ianus shouted, “What have you done?”

“What is not real?”  Faroh struggled to speak, “You are me.  We are cut from the same cloth.  We ride the leopard blissfully, knowing it could destroy us,” his voice strengthened, “You are me.  Join us!”

“No,” Ianus shook his head, hoping the image would leave his eyes, “This is not real.  You’re lying.  I could never do the things you have.”

“You seem so sure of that,” Faroh struggled to his feet, “If you kill me, you are doing exactly what I would do to you.  You have to see that, join us.  Don’t fight what you are.  Together, we would be a match even for Cythraul. Together, there is nothing we can’t do.”

“Ianus,” Daru’s voice broke through the simulacrum.  “You have to come back to me.  I love you!  Do justice, and return to me.”

“How sweet,” Faroh clapped his hands, “You have a girlfriend.  She is right, you know.  You should do the right thing.  It is better to serve in heaven than reign in hell.”

Ianus looked up at the image of Ihy that cloaked Faroh.  “You’re right.  You’re both right.  If I killed you out of anger, hatred, or revenge, I would be you.  I cannot do that.  You have broken the laws of nature in your desire to enslave your fellows.  You have made me what I am.  I am the hand of justice.  If I don’t stop you, you will spread your plague-ridden filth throughout the galaxy.  This is war!”

Running at Faroh, Ianus watched his emotions.  

The image of Ihy faded.  

Ianus smiled.

Faroh swung his blade at Ianus, who formed a blade and parried.  Ianus moved quickly.  Faroh could barely duck, dodge, and parry fast enough.

“Don’t you see?”  Ianus said, continuing the onslaught, pushing Faroh back toward the altar, “Justice gives you power.  Where is your claim to truth now that you need it?  Death comes to all of us sooner or later, but it stalks after tyrants, as close on their heels as their own shadow.”

Kicking Faroh in the gut, Ianus changed his sword into an axe, and raised it over his head.  Faroh fell to his knees.  Ianus brought the axe down toward Faroh’s neck.

Suddenly, Ianus found himself on the North Terrace of Usekht Maati.

Faroh stood a good distance away, “This is my world, Ianus, my boy,” laughing madly, “I make the rules here.”  Faroh twirled around.  “Here is my power!”

“This is an illusion,” said Ianus, “What does that say about your powers?”

“You are blind, aren’t you?  This is where I will place my throne after I have taken the city.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if your army is already crushed.”

“What do I need an army for?  This is at worse a hit and run.  Cythraul wants to conquer this city first.  Personally, I like the irony of beginning my campaign where the Ara’lu began his, but I do not care about this place.  I do care about removing you though.  You have been a thorn in my flesh for too long.”

“Why don’t you just have me fall off a cliff?”

“One thing at a time,” Faroh smiled, “I just don’t understand why you are being so obstinate.  Are you so self-righteous that you cannot see the opportunity that I’m offering you?  The galaxy belongs to those who know truth.  You preserve chaos.  We bring order!”

“All you bring is terror and death!”

“We bring prosperity.  No civilization that has rejected our ways has ever survived.”

“Because your kind destroy them from the inside!”

“You don’t know your history.  The Jade Moon may be popular today, but traditionally, we have held power in every major government!”

“Lies and propaganda,” Ianus calmed himself, “Cythraul has been a corrosive force against every democracy there has ever been.  He’s never done one good thing for anyone.”

“He brought me here to finish you off.”

“How?  Are you going to talk me to death?”

“I’m trying to give you a chance to reconsider your wicked ways.  Ask forgiveness for your sins,” Faroh looked genuinely concerned, “You would make a valuable asset to me, but if you will not join forces with me, I want to give you every chance to recant your heresy.”

“Heresy?”  Ianus scoffed, “You condemn people for disagreeing with you, even when they can prove you’re wrong.  You devalue life with every word you speak, and you call me a heretic.”

“You don’t understand!”  Faroh said, angrily, “I have read the Holy Writ.  I listen to the Song.  I know the names and the law.  Whosoever knows the names has the power!  I know the truth, there can be no other!”

“You have closed your mind.  How can you seek out wisdom when you believe you have it.  Blind arrogance!  You lecture me on right and wrong?  How much blood is on your hands?  You are not clean in anyone’s eyes.  Even your beloved Cythraul condemns you with his every word.  ‘All souls are impure and incapable of doing good.’  Isn’t that what you preach?  How can you dare to believe you can share your saintliness with me.  You are nothing but a preacher of death.”

“And what do you have to offer?  If it feels good, do it?  What kind of world would that make?”

“You don’t understand us at all, do you?  You offer totalitarianism, we offer a search for truth.  We know that the truth evolves.  We learn from our mistakes, your kind never does.  There is such a thing as truth, but it is not written in stone.  We once thought the world was flat, and that we were the only intelligent life in the universe.  All of that was considered truth before we learned better.  We used to condone slavery.  We used to burn our heretics too.  We learned.  Why can’t you?”

Faroh leapt at Ianus.  Forming a whip, he lashed Ianus’ arm.  The whip wrapped around his right wrist, and pulled Ianus off balance.  He formed a single edged sword, but Ianus punched him in the jaw. 

Twirling through the air, Ianus kicked Faroh with each foot.  Faroh cartwheeled away, and kicked off the retaining wall and caught Ianus with both fists.  He hurtled through the air with Ianus until Ianus crashed onto his back.

He stood over Ianus and thrust his sword down at Ianus’ throat.

Quickly, Ianus slid out from between Faroh’s legs.  Getting to his feet, he turned around and struck Faroh hard on the arm.  Blood poured down from the wound.

“You forget, Ianus Akeru this is my world!”  Faroh raised his arm high over his head, and dropped it sharply down.

Ianus looked up and saw a wall of water falling from the sky.  It hit Ianus with so much force it threw him to the ground.  Surrounded by water, Ianus held his breath.

“He who builds the simulacrum makes the rules,” Faroh took a deep breath.

Ianus lay on the ground.  He forced himself not to breathe.  Pressure built in his lungs.  He wanted to exhale.  He focused all of his strength to keep his mouth shut.

“I bet you wish you were still at Shiloh, playing with your toys!”  Faroh laughed, “What’s the matter?  Can’t breathe,” Faroh inhaled deeply, and began to pace around Ianus.

“Did you think you had a chance?”  Faroh asked.  “I’m sorry you have such a sad fate.  To die in your prime,” he shook his head, “You could have been great.  You could have had temples named in your honor.  I warned you.  You knew the game was fixed, but you came to the table anyway.  What were you thinking?  You’re probably really mad at the Enmadra right now.  They lied to you.  They made you into a hero, but they forgot to tell you that all heroes die.  But your death will not have been in vain.  You can do what we cannot.”

Faroh knelt down in front of Ianus, “It’s not too late for you.  I could end this.  All you have to do is bow to me.  Join us and I will spare you.”

Ianus sat up and scowled at Faroh.

“It’s a good offer,” said Faroh, “You won’t get any better.  It’s hopeless.  If you don’t give up your foolish pride, you will die.  All that you believed in, all that you fought for will be lost.   What a sad day, you could have been so much more than you are.”

Ianus looked around.  The liquid sky stretched to the horizon and beyond.  None of this was real.  He knew that, but its consequences would be quite real.  That is why the Vaticinars tested life and death in the simulacrum.  Every thought had weight here.

The pressure in his lungs was unbearable.  He felt like a fire had been lit in his throat.  There was no way to escape the illusion without being set free.  Somehow, he had to break out.  His vision blurred.  He would have to breathe soon, or he would pass out, and drown.

He covered his mouth and tried desperately not to breathe.

“What’s that boy?”  Faroh asked, “Do you want me to put you out of your misery?  I have had my fun with you.”

Faroh picked up Ianus’ head and placed his blade to Ianus’ throat.

“This is an illusion!”  The words bubbled out of Ianus mouth.

Faroh laughed.  “No my boy.  You are quite mistaken.  This is very real,” Faroh smiled, “For you.”  

Ianus closed his eyes.  None of this was real.  He had to have strength.  A way to win.  His periapt worked here.  They should have been able to turn it off.  Why did it work?

“This is an illusion!”  Ianus screamed and sprang away from Faroh.

Ianus floated in the liquid sky.  Nothing here was solid.  Cythraul could change the rules on a whim.  There was nothing but thought.  His periapt worked because he was a maker.

The makers gave form and purpose to the world.  Their songs, their words were the backbone of society.  That essential quality could not be denied.  It was true beyond what anyone thought or said.  The dance would save him.

He twirled around, the rhythm of the dance guiding his steps.  He opened his eyes.  Faroh was lunging at him.  He was moving too slow.

Ianus dove toward the edge of the terrace.

“This is not real!”  He screeched as he landed.

Bending down, he curled his fingers under the illusory horizon.  His skin began to glow, and then burst into flames.  “Your lies have no power over me!”  He lifted the curtain of the sky and threw the veil of water up into the air.

“This is not your world!”  Ianus said as he turned to see Faroh flying through the air. “You have no power over me.”

Faroh crashed into the retaining wall and collapsed to the ground.

“What have you done?”  Faroh exclaimed.

“I have heard your kind all my life telling me I wasn’t good enough.  No more!  You can deny the Life Giver all you want, but I know who I serve.  You and your kind will never control me again.  Illusions!  That is all you have.  You listen to the dreams of the ancients and pretend they’re history.  You have lost your way.”

“Cythraul!”  Faroh shouted, “Help me!”

“What can he do?  He is powerless before me.  His lies and hollow promises cannot help you now.  Yield, and I will show you mercy.”

“Cythraul!  Help me, please help me-”  Silence, “Then I will have to kill you myself!”

Faroh got to his feet, and lifted his sword.

Ianus formed a sword, and walked slowly toward Faroh.  Ianus pointing the sword at Faroh, “Behold your god!” 

The sky filled with airships and spaceships warring with each other.  The ground became flat and dead bodies covered the terrain.  Tanks and armies clashed in the distance.

“See what you have become.”

Faroh’s hands were covered in blood; around his feet were the bodies of all the men, women, and children whose deaths were connected to him.

Faroh slashed at Ianus, his blade went clean through without leaving a mark.

“What’s the matter Faroh?  Is your faith wavering!  Look at them.  All these have died because of you and your kind.  Do you not hear the song of the machine?  Their screams are mixed within it.  You rejoiced in their death.  Another sacrifice for the truth.”

Faroh swung his sword wildly, it passed through Ianus like he wasn’t really there.

“You can’t do this.  I have read the tales.  You can not do this,” said Faroh.

Ianus thrust his sword through Faroh’s heart.  “May your soul find rest, someday.”

Cythraul’s screams filled the simulacrum.

Ianus vision blurred.  He gasped for air and found himself floating above the ground in the temple.  Screams filled the hallowed place.  Faroh and Cythraul wailed.  Ianus fell to the ground and watched Faroh collapse in a heap on the floor.

Cythraul twitched, and faded away.

Ianus looked down at Daru.  She was smiling with a tear in her eye.  She threw her arms around his neck.  He pulled her closer.  They kissed.  Ianus laid his head on Daru’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t have made it without you.  I love you,” he kissed her again and held her tight.

“I love you too,” she nuzzled into Ianus neck.

Ianus looked over at Eman, “Where is Cythraul?”

“He’s gone.” Eman said, seriously.

“Is he dead?”

“No, not dead.”

Letting go of Daru, Ianus slumped forward, “Is it over?”

“For now,” Eman’s eyes filled with tears.

The sound of revelry leaked into the temple.

“It sounds like the battle is over,” said Daru, holding Ianus tight with her right arm.

“He left Faroh behind,” said Ianus, looking at the shivering man on the floor.

“Cythraul always rewarded loyalty, but rarely showed it himself,” said Eman.  “Poor Faroh, he is worse than dead.  You destroyed the part of him that knew what he was.  It is his ideology turned against him.  Now, he can only obey.”

Eman walked over to Faroh and slipped the black periapt of Dov Lavan off of his hand.

The doors to the temple opened.  Arun, Tara, and Pryor walked in.

Arun ran over to Ianus and embraced him, “You did good, son.”

Eman handed Lavan’s Periapt to Pryor, “You kept the To’asaa safe all these years.  Now do the same with this.”

“Why not destroy it?”  Pryor asked.

“The knowledge that it contains is too valuable.  Once we have extracted it, it will be safe to destroy.”

“I’m proud of you,” said Arun.  “You did what you had to do.  Thank you for not abandoning me.  You did good.”

Ianus looked back at Faroh.  

The once proud warrior glanced around the temple like a confused child.  

Anger flooded over Ianus, as he remembered all the evil Faroh had brought to him.  Shaking his head, he watched the pitiful man fidget with his hands.

“What is to happen to him?”  Ianus asked.

Eman sighed, “That is hard to say.  The part of him that committed his crimes is dead.  The personality gone, he remembers nothing of his former life.  The Hand of Providence has punished him for his crimes.”

Slowly, Ianus walked toward Faroh.  He felt a deep compassion for the man.  “Faroh,” he said gently.

Faroh scurried away like a frightened animal.  Curling his knees into his chest, he pressed his back against the wall.

“Do not be afraid,” said Ianus softly, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Who is Faroh?”  The shell asked.

“You are,” an empty chill filled Ianus, “I would like to help you.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Ianus Akeru,” reaching out his hand to Faroh, “I would like to help you.”

“Why?”

Ianus looked back at his friends.  “Because you are lost and afraid, and no one deserves to live like that.  We all need a place to call home.”

“Home?”  Faroh asked, blankly, “Are you my friend?”

Taking a deep breath, Ianus helped Faroh to his feet, “I hope to be.”

“You can’t do this!” Tuun protested.

“Why not?” Ianus asked, “Because of his past?  Because of what had been done?”

“What have I done?” Faroh asked, “Am I in trouble?”

“No, Faroh,” Ianus put his arm around him, “It is a new day, and there is much to rebuild.”