Fan Fiction ❯ Green Sword ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Death

 

Every Person either has or will face it. It is the inevitable, the one absolute truth.

 

Michael faced his death now. His wounds had made him weak, drowsy, and disorientated. His insides twisted and contorted. His body writhed. His muscles felt as though they were on fire, and his intestines ached as though some insidious snake had crawled though him, biting and scarring him along the way. His vision was somewhat blurred, and he could tell that it was at least partially because of the swelling on his head. He wondered for a moment if he had a concussion, but the thought quickly left his head because he had much bigger problems to worry about. He could taste blood in his mouth and he could see some more of his blood spotted on the ground.

 

Had his opponent bleed at all? No, he hadn't. In fact he had shown no signs that he had been significantly injured at all. It occurred to Michael that he wasn't even sure what his opponent's blood looked like. He had never successfully drawn it before, and there was no particular reason to assume it was red like his. After all, he had seen much weirder in the past.

 

Michael tried to concentrate on something. He felt that in the last moments of his life, there had to be something that he could do of some significance. Some tiny thing, no matter how small, that would make some positive affect on something. He knew in his heart however that this was not the case. His end was upon him and he had already done all that there was for him to do. The future laid in others hands now, and they were good hands.

 

Still, he tried to focus his mind back on the situation at hand. His head wounds in combination with his loss of blood had left him somewhat unaware of his surroundings. He had expected to be killed by now. He was surprised that he was still alive. For a moment a fleeting hope came to him that maybe he had been saved. Perhaps he was no longer on that battlefield and was just beginning to awake in his bed. That thought passed quickly though. He knew in reality that the only reason he was still alive was because his persecutor had not yet decided to kill him. Besides, with the condition he was in, he doubted that he would have lived even if he had simply left.

 

Despite all that he might have been able to stand if he'd had the will to, but he knew that it was pointless. As sure as anything else, he knew that it was over, though it hadn't been for nothing…

 

His mind drifted lazily, and, for a moment he had completely forgotten where he was. Not in an amnesia sense, but the way one does for a few moments right as they wake up. He snapped out of it quickly and started to become annoyed at his inability to organize his own thoughts. He made a decision that he was not going to spend the last minutes of his life unconscious. He snapped himself back into awareness at looked at weakly at the feet of his enemy.

 

“Do you understand now?” A voice said. It was a cold, dark voice. One that seemed to make the very air around it tremble with fear. It was the voice that belonged to his enemy. One he had not known only two year ago, but since then had become the bane of his existence. His enemy had defeated him, and now that enemy stood gloating over him.

 

Abaddon.

 

But no, he wasn't gloating. Even in these final moments he did not gloat, he only tried to make Michael understand his perverted point of view; the twisted logic that had ruled his entire existence. The sad thing was, even though he knew Abaddon was wrong, many things about his logic ringed true.

 

He thought again of all the questions that he had asked before and never truly gotten an answer to. He had never understood why some beings seemed to be inherently evil. Man kind, it seemed, had always had a choice between good and evil, but this being it seemed, had a body that was designed for evil and a soul to match.

 

Most people had always simply accepted this as the way things were; some beings are quite simply naturally evil. Michael had always believed that anything with a consciousness must have a choice, but he had seen much evidence to the contrary in his recent life. Perhaps there was some other elusive explanation somewhere, but he certainly hadn't found it.

 

Abaddon spoke again, “Do you understand that you never stood a chance? In the last minutes of your life, do you see my purpose? Or do you still hold on to your blinded values? And to your race?” He talked oddly calmly for the situation. Like an understanding parent talking to a child right before a punishment.

 

Michael looked up and focused weakly on Abaddon. He might have laughed if he had not been so near his death. Instead he simply said, “You are the one who doesn't understand. Life is precious. All life is precious.”

 

Abaddon just snorted. He knew he was in the position of power, but that didn't stop him of trying to convince Michael of his point, “Humans are pathetic. You all deserve to be destroyed. This world will be a better place once you are gone, but I guess, being a human, you would not understand that yourself.” He said the words “better place” as though he were planning to create some kind of Paradise. Michael knew however that this was not the case. Abaddon simply wanted power, and he would use whatever twisted logic he could to obtain it.

 

Michael looked once again at his enemy though barley focused eyes. It occurred to him for the first time that he really did not know what he was. Not that it really mattered, but random thoughts were floating though his mind now.

 

Already during this short conversation he could feel the energy leaving him. He could feel his power fading. He had not slept in a long time, but that was okay, because soon he would be getting all the sleep he needed.

 

“And who's going to be enjoying this Nirvana of your Abaddon? The Shadow warriors? The Demons?”

 

Abaddon sneered, “You are a fool, just like the rest of your race. You cannot see past your own flesh. You cling to this belief that a better world means a better world for humans. You hold on to these ideals and yet are completely oblivious to the fact that the very same Utopia you envision is impossible as long as you exist. The simple truth that you will never fully understand or appreciate is this: all that truly matters is power, nothing else. The weak die and the strong survive. You are the weak, and I am the strong”

 

“And what happens when you become one of the weak, Abaddon?”

 

“That will never happen” He said simply

 

“And how can you be so sure?”

 

“Because I will not allow it.”

 

“You over estimate your power Abaddon. You are an arrogant fool and one day it will cost you your life.” Michael did not need to guess when he made this statement. He knew it was true as well as he knew his name.

 

Abaddon however simply saw this as a bluff, “How can you continue to deceive yourself even at this hour? You more than anyone should know by now that my power cannot be matched. You have seen for yourself this world's greatest champions fall to my power. It will not be long before you join their ranks. Of the two greatest threats to my power, one has already been put out of my misery, and soon so shall the other. Surely even you must acknowledge that your situation is impossible?”

 

Michael winced. Not in pain, put at the mention of his fallen friend. Had Garu's sacrifice been in vain? Even at this point he still did not know. Soon the very thing Garu had sacrificed himself for would also be destroyed. Michael quickly searched his memory. Had he done anything since that point that had any validity? Yes, he had. Even if it was small, Garu had given Michael a chance to do something that was absolutely necessary.

 

He had not understood Garu's last words to him when he had first spoken them, but he did now. He understood a lot more now then he did then. He also understood why ignorance is bliss. Had he really believed that he could succeed where Garu had failed? Probably not, but he hadn't been thinking about that at the time. He knew what he had had to do, but he hadn't really thought about the inevitable outcome at the time. He wished he had, because then he would have been more prepared for his death.

 

When he really thought about it, he knew it would end this way. In a way, he had always known. There had always been something in the back of his head that told him he would die at Abaddon's hands. He had never really wanted to accept it before. It was so much easier to just live day to day, and not think about where it was all going. It was so much easier to simply cling to hope and faith rather than think realistically.

 

It wasn't until near the end that he had begun to lose faith. He started to realize the blatant truth; nothing alive could stand up to Abaddon. But that would not remain true for long. One day he would meet his match. One day he would fall to a warrior much greater than himself. One day the world would once again know peace.

 

“Why do you not speak?” Abaddon asked, “Is it because you have no defense against my words? Do you finally understand the truth? Or is it simply that you no longer have the will to speak? If you have already succumb to your injuries than you are not so tough an opponent as I thought.” He looked down at his Michael questioningly. Michael found it ironic that at this point Abaddon was still interested in talk. It occurred to him that what he wanted to see was his opponent broken before he died. Perhaps he had done it with the others he had fought as well, but most likely it was just Michael. After all, no one had caused him more trouble, except maybe Garu.

 

Michael decided he wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. He forced himself to chortle. It caused a pain in his ribs and he realized that a couple of them were probably broken. It would be fitting if his last words were defiant, and hopefully even a blow to Abaddon's ego. Not even his enemies would remember him as weak or as a coward. “I only regret that I will not be there. If I had only one wish it would be to witness your fall. Your smugness wiped clean. Your arrogance destroyed. When they finally de-throne you, and they will, it will be a joyous day for all, and there will be celebration as they begin to rebuild all that you have destroyed” Michael had almost forgotten about his weakened state as he spoke, but it came back in full when he was finished. Worse, because it had taken more energy to form that small speech than he thought it would.

 

Abaddon scowled. He was beginning to realize that he was not going to get what he wanted out of Michael before he died. “Very well then, have it your way” He quickly closed the small gap between him and Michael. With an expressionless face, he raised his large three-toed foot off the ground and placed it on the side of Michael's head. As though to prolong the experience, he very slowly increased the pressure on is skull. Michael groaned in pain and Abaddon pressed harder still. “And now you die” he said simply as he slowly crushed Michael's skull.

 

Michael felt as though needles were breaking into his temple. He could feel it as the bone just began to crack. As life slowly slipped away from Michael, he saw once again the image he had seen so many times before. He saw his salvation. He saw the image that filled him with happiness even in these final moments. To him it meant so many things. More than he thought anything could mean to him. To everyone else, it meant only one thing.

 

Hope

 

Even as the pain crackled through his brain and his entire body, he smiled. He would die smiling. As the pressure steadily increased on his head and threatened to split open his head, his life flashed before his eyes…