The Games that Gods Play | By : Ristul Category: DC Verse Comics > Wonder Woman Views: 16896 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Wonder Woman,nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
If you don’t understand what you’re fighting for, you’re not fighting for anything you value.
-Jake Kabrinski
It was a bright morning. The weather was just nice, not too hot nor too cold, and the people of Nexopar went about their daily business. The events of the past week had been shocking, but they were a resilient lot, and putting their past behind them while they looked to the future. Many Nepherians had expressed shame and guilt for their actions, apologizing profusely while returning much of the booty they had stolen, and the neighboring nations had forgiven them.
The invading troops did not face the guerilla war Jake Kabrinski had feared, and instead a quick and stable new order had been established. The free armies stayed around long enough to ensure that everything was in order, before leaving a small observing garrison behind to liaise with the reformed military in hopes of building a lasting peace.
Near the gates of the city, Garan approached Mayse, who was limping around on crutches. “How are you, General?” The former champion greeted.
Mayse laughed, “General? I think traitor would be a better word!” He smiled. “I resigned my commission today, Garan.”
Garan was heavily bandaged after the explosion at Clea’s balcony, but he was still in arguably better shape than Mayse, who winced with every movement. He asked, “But why? The army needs a leader, untainted by association with Clea, and you’re the best candidate for it.”
The older soldier shook his head. “I stood against our people, Garan, and despite what some might say, that taints me too. No matter that what I did was right.” He switched to a formal and pretentious tone that their instructors in the academy might use. “Politics, you see, has a way of twisting the best of actions to the worst of outcomes.”
Garna barked in laughter, before asking seriously, “Then what are you going to do now?”
“Oh, please. What are you going to do? Thinking of leaving me behind?”
“Is it that much of an open secret?” Garan seemed genuinely dismayed.
Mayse laughed again. “Come on! I need you to help me there anyway. You came to look for me because you don’t know the place, right?”
“Uh huh.” Garan took an arm and carefully helped Mayse down a flight of steps. “But where are we going?”
Mayse replied, “Phillip Delacroix’s grave, obviously.”
Ofursti’s estates at Quayle had been completely incinerated, but workers were clearing away the wreckage in preparation for building a new manor on the grounds. Young Garan had inherited the lands, and he wanted to honor his father by rebuilding what had been lost.
A few hundred meters away were the remnants of the once beautiful orchards. A few fruit trees had survived, against all odds, and stood amongst a clump of tree stumps that had been cleared by workers.
There were two graves at the foot of one tree, and they even had the gravestones with the names of the occupants: Baron Ofursti and Phillip Delacroix. The tombstones were made of plain marble, an extravagant expense paid for by Clea beforehand. She had ordered the graves dug when she had ordered the estate burnt, a final insult to Ofursti, and a sign of the confidence she had that Delacroix would die, one way or another, the next day.
Only one grave was actually occupied. The other was empty.
Phillip Delacroix stood over Ofursti’s final resting place, thinking back to the many times he paid his last respects to so many friends in the past, and no doubt would do so in the future. Of comrades, friends, fellows and more. When he was dead, would he get a nice grave, or simply become a carcass for the crows to feast on?
Though the grave had been ordered by Clea, Garan had thought the location fitting. And so they had used it to bury Ofursti in a short but moving ceremony. They had wanted to remove Phillip’s gravestone, but he had told them not to do it yet. He had wanted to take a better look at it. Think about his own life. Whether he should sink a dagger into his own stomach and be done with it. What did the Japanese call it? Seppuku.
He unstoppered a small flask of wine, took a swig of it, and then poured it over Ofursti’s grave. “Drink, my friend. Since I can’t share one last drink with you in life, we’ll share it in death.”
He had been near death. Nagas had managed to resuscitate him, using the remaining power in Clea’s crystals. He remembered waking up with a sobbing Veronica hugging him tightly, and Ramon looking on worriedly. Diana had seemed as though she wanted to approach closer, but had not. He understood. He was Ares’ creature. That wall would always remain between them.
Shuffling feet and the sound of crutches on the small footpath to the impromptu cemetery made him look up, just as he poured the last of the wine on Ofursti’s grave. He did not need to look back to know who it was. Only badly injured soldiers on crutches make that sound, and of all the injured soldiers, only one would have any reason to come to him.
Phillip said, “I won’t do it.”
“Do what?” Mayse asked, while being helped along by Garan.
Phillip turned to face the two men. “I know why you’re here. I won’t teach you.”
“You have no idea what we’re going to ask you!” Mayse protested.
“You think I don’t know?” They want to learn the Path, Phillip knew that. Mayse was already committed, and had proven it by fighting in the arena. But he did not want more fools joining their insane, quixotic crusade for justice. Ramon had been bad enough, then Mayse. It was stupid, it was suicidal. He thought that his crazy battle in the arena would have been evidence enough, but Garan had only become more enthusiastic.
He knew that he was supposed to be experienced enough to start instructing others, but he had always resisted, for some reason or another. Ramon had stumbled in almost by accident, and he had foisted the boy off to Jake at the earliest opportunity. Now, others were looking up to him as an example, but never in his life had he felt less qualified to teach anything to anyone. “Look for somebody else.”
“If not you, then who else?” Mayse challenged. “I asked your apprentice Ramon…”
“He’s not my apprentice.”
“Then why isn’t he?” Mayse persisted.
“Yeah, why am I not?” Ramon asked, as he walked up the small path. He led a group of about forty men, who gathered behind Mayse and Garan. Ares’ men, some of Lance’s Rangers, including Lance himself, the three dilettantes Phillip had trained for a week in the arena, Sergeant Frang, a few more from the local armies he had commanded, and even a few from Mayse’s previous units.
The Black Lion laughed, startling some of them with its harsh tone. “You, none of you, have any idea what you’re getting into. You think it’s glory and fame, crowds cheering your way? No, it’s sweat and tears and blood in the dark of the night where the monsters dwell.”
Ramon shot back. “I know that already. And I made my choice. So did Mayse, back in the arena. They know the risks, the odds, what is demanded of them. Dammit, all of them are older than I am! They know.” He stepped forward. “And it’s not about the glory. It’s about doing the right thing. What’s to prevent another Clea, or another madman from coming to power? They need to learn the path, sir.”
Phillip fixed Ramon with a baleful gaze. “Really.” He looked at the gathered men. He had thought to see faces filled with young, untried confidence, easy in the self-assurance that came with never having been tested. But no, he saw seasoned men, standing with the wary caution of men who knew their limits, and when those limits might be exceeded. Any romanticism or thoughts of glory had been expunged by the events in the arena.
He sighed. “You can learn from the book well enough. Why learn from me? Did you know…” He paused, then continued, “…that I had planned to kill every single thing that stood in my way in the arena? It was Garan’s father who told me not to kill. Now that I think of it, he saved all of us.” He stopped, letting them figure the rest of it out.
Even if Clea had been defeated, his blood-drenched rampage through Nepheria’s people would never have convinced them of the wrongness of their actions. They would have resisted against any new order imposed on them, continued fighting against the invading armies. Things would have spiraled out of control, and it would only have resulted in more bloodshed, more death. Somehow, Ofursti knew that. And he trusted Phillip so much to keep his promise that he was willing to die in order to bring about the best outcome, not just for his people, but for all involved.
The true hero of the day was Ofursti, not him.
He saw realization dawn on their faces. “So you see, I’m hardly the best person to teach you anything.” He started to push past Ramon and Garan. His wounds were mostly healed due to his own techniques, and he was moving normally.
“Not so fast.” Lance Tiller stood in front of him. “Ofursti made all this possible, yes. But it isn’t over, and you know it.” The Ranger captain looked around him for support, and they all crowded around Phillip. “Nagas is almost finished with the spell that will send us back to Earth. Mayse and his people will need what you can teach them to prevent somebody like Clea from messing things up, and they don’t have much time to learn from the book. You’re it, sir.” The men around him all nodded and spoke their assent. “It doesn’t matter that you fouled up. I think even if you had blooded your swords, you’d still have found a way. Come on, I was in OIF.”
Phillip lowered his head. He had lost the argument. Taken on their own, each argument wasn’t enough. But taken together, with the weight of more than forty men behind it, he was faced with the problem of refusing them, which might send them to do some pretty stupid things as they tried to figure out what the things in the Book of Paths meant.
His head came up. He thought his voice might crack with emotion, but he managed to keep it steady. “All right. You asked for it. You want me to teach you, so we’ll start training. Right here, right now.”
They all looked at each other in confusion.
“Any man who cannot take it can drop out any time he likes.” He pasted an evil grin on his face. “Now give me fifty push-ups! Those who can’t use their arms, I want you to go ten rounds circling that tree. NOW!”
They scrambled into action. Phillip ignored the looks of satisfaction on their faces even as he put them through their paces.
Hippolyta stood watching with a cadre of her guards as they watched the band of horsemen ride up to where the rest of the men of the island were waiting with varying degrees of patience. Her own Amazons stood to attention, hands on their weapons. Even with the men’s recent actions, their origins as creations of Ares and the Amazon inherent distrust of men was still strong.
Her daughter Diana landed lightly before her. “My Queen, Lord Nagas tells me the spell is ready. We will be transported back to Themyscira just before Themyscira itself is transferred back to Earth.”
“And to think I was worried about how we’re getting back.” Artemis commented.
“What is the deal with those men anyway?” One of the Amazons asked. She had been one of those enslaved by Clea’s magics. Thankfully, none of them remembered the horrible tortures and debasements to which they had been subjected, and none of the other Amazons would tell them either. The whole matter would remain a blissful secret.
“The men of the island in general, or those horsemen?” Wonder Woman asked. “The men of the island have agreed to a non-aggression pact with us, and I think even Ares might not be able to persuade them otherwise. As for the horsemen…” She squinted her eyes, trying to pick out one particular rider. “Some of the men approached Phillip Delacroix for special training.”
“We must be careful of them.” Hippolyta said. “Phillip Delacroix… I have never seen a warrior of his like before. If he can somehow pass on his skills and abilities to the other men…” Her face became worried. “We might be hard pressed in a conflict with them.”
Diana said, “Mother, they are not our enemies.”
“No. Not yet.”
The Amazons were all recovered from their ordeal, and their guests had likewise gone unscathed during their time in this strange new world. Clea was a prisoner, bound with specially enchanted spells that prevented her from any further mischief. Veronica Cale stood with the rest of Paradise Island’s guests, her eyes drifting ever so frequently to the mounted Lion of Ares.
“Here is where we say our goodbyes.” Phillip said to Mayse. Behind him were the other horsemen, the men from the local lands. Behind Phillip were the Rangers and the men of the island, plus Ramon. Nobody had dropped out, even when he had force marched them so hideously that their boots were filled with blood from the blisters on their feet. It was then that he knew they were wholly committed.
“Remember,” Phillip reminded them, “never stop learning. Never stop questioning. And try to hold to the code as much as you can.”
Mayse nodded. “We will. Take care of yourself.” He spurred his horse around, and with a final “Farewell!”, set off at a gallop. The other men followed him for a short distance, before splitting up in various directions. They all had their own copies of the Book of Paths; they would seek their own battles, their own journeys of learning.
Phillip guided his band to where the rest of the men from the island were waiting, along with the civilians Ares had told Jake to send. All of them seemed highly relieved that their time in a land without toilet paper was coming to an end. Phillip made a mental note to hire all of them for Ares Macrotech, except for Stan’s news crews who were excited over reporting the entire adventure. They might even win some awards!
Nagas waited at a point between them and the Amazons, somehow correctly surmising that putting the two groups together might not be a good idea. “Are you ready?” He asked.
Phillip nodded, as did Queen Hippolyta.
Nagas raised his arms and shouted an incantation. There was a sudden feeling of weightlessness, a slight shimmer in the air, and before they knew it, there was a salty tang in the air, and they were standing on the sandy shores of their respective islands, facing the broad wide blue ocean.
For the Amazons, they found Donna Troy hovering over the island, before descending to greet her mother and sisters with shrieks of delighted relief.
“You have done well.” Ares said as they met in his offices. “I would not have expected such an… unusual first campaign for my men, but it is fortuitous.”
Jake exchanged glances with Phillip. He had not wanted to meet the God of War, but the others insisted.
“We got five hundred of them killed.” Morgan Carter added softly.
“There will be casualties in war, and four thousand five hundred remaining men shall be more than enough,” declared Ares. “I have plans, grand ones, and they, as well as all of you, will have important roles to play.”
Jake shook his head and got out of his seat. He pulled Ramon up from his seat as well.
“Jake, where are you going?” Ares asked.
“Whatever your plans are, they don’t involve us.” Jake said.
“What if I say I have a role for you, and even young Ramon?” Ares offered. “Glory, wealth, power. All these things in abundance, if you would aid me.”
“Sorry, not interested.” Jake let go of Ramon as the two of them walked towards the door. “And Phillip would have refused you back then too. Pity his mind is too addled by revenge to turn you down.” He stopped at the door. “I wish all of you luck. But it’s no longer my war to fight.” The two men left.
Ares sighed. Phillip said, “I told you this would happen.”
“But I had to try.” Ares looked at his other henchmen. “But I’m satisfied with you, so don’t worry.”
Joshua asked, “So what next?”
“We turn my men into a true army. We shall call them the Myrmidons, and the island Myrmida.”
“Sounds tacky.” Stan pointed out.
“Any thoughts of tackiness will soon be replaced by fear.” Ares said. “Morgan, I want you to put them through the most intensive modern combat training possible. Hire ex-soldiers from other nations if you wish as instructors. The US SEALs, French Foreign Legion, British SAS. If they’re interested, they could become Myrmidons, along with all the benefits of being one, by petitioning me.”
Ares turned to Phillip. “Ares Macrotech is now one of the biggest companies in the world, and our military research is second to none. I want you to organize weapons and a force structure for the Myrmidons, as well as a well-defined position in Ares Macrotech itself.”
Phillip nodded. In truth, he and Ares had already worked it out. The arrangement would shock the world, as well as catapult Ares Macrotech to a position of unprecedented prominence.
“Thank you for visiting, Miss Cale.” Diana said sincerely as the businesswoman prepared to depart. Around them, the other guests of Themyscira prepared to leave aboard the hovercraft that would bring them to Miami, the nearest American city. Most of them were academics, historians, eager to learn what they could from the island’s extensive libraries, and just as ready to contribute their own knowledge to the Amazons.
Veronica replied, “Thank you, Diana.” She knew she was supposed to feel angry at Wonder Woman for being so perfect, but the hate had slowly diluted as she came to know the Amazon, her hopes, her dreams, and her failings. She realized that her own hate was a shallow thing, something she had created for herself when she had accomplished everything else she wanted in life.
The two woman stared at each other, before Veronica made a decision. “Diana, can we talk somewhere in private? I have something to tell you. I’m sorry it took me this long.” Because I’m a coward.
“There’s still a few minutes to launch.” The beautiful princess noted. “Come on.”
“What is it?” Diana asked once they were in a small room.
Veronica took a deep breath, then spoke. “I’m giving him up.”
“Huh?” Wonder Woman was not easily confused, but she certainly did not understand what Cale was saying.
“I meant, I don’t wish to see Phillip anymore.” Veronica slumped against a wall.
“But… why?” Diana viciously suppressed a twinge of triumph in her heart. If her rival gave up, she would have won by default… Except that she would never know who Phillip would really choose.
“Did you see him in the coliseum?” Veronica was shaking slightly.
Diana was puzzled. “Of course. We were both there.”
Veronica looked her in the eyes. “He went in, one against god knew how many enemies. He went in there, and fought.” Her eyes were teary. “He died, Diana, he died.”
She caught hold of Veronica’s shoulders. “No, he didn’t die.”
“He almost died. For us, for a promise. I don’t know, for some crazy sense of honor. But he almost died, Diana, when he could have walked away.” She shuddered. “I can’t deal with that. I can’t deal with a man who’s so crazy that he’s willing to die on principle alone. He’s like one of those ancient paladins.” The tears began to fall. “I can’t deal with that. I just can’t.”
Diana understood, or hoped she did. For all her intelligence, Veronica was used to the mundane, of men watching out for themselves and the bottom line. Phillip, on the other hand, despite his status as one of the world’s richest men, seemed to come from a different time, a different place.
“But he loves you.” Diana said, feeling her heart twist at her own words. Does he? She asked herself. Is he capable of love in the first place?
“Does he really?” Cale asked back. “Don’t forget, it wasn’t just me tied to the stake. You were there too. Maybe it was you he was really trying to save. Not me.”
“Veronica, you can’t think that.”
The older woman smiled sadly. “You know what? At the start, I decided to go for him because I saw that you were interested in him too. It wasn’t for love. I simply wanted to compete with you, show that I can beat you at something.”
Diana was shocked. Her words carried a tinge of anger as she said, “And so you toyed with his heart just to spite me?”
“It started out that way, but things changed. I enjoyed his company. He’s smart, confident, and doesn’t take himself seriously.” She lifted her hands to her face. “Somehow along the way, it stopped being a contest with you. I was lonely. I wanted to love, to be loved…”
Diana looked away. What Veronica was saying mirrored her own thoughts and feelings.
Veronica did not stop. “I know he was a soldier. I know he works for Ares. But that didn’t prepare me for what he truly is. When he was on the ground bleeding to death, I felt like dying myself. I want to love him, but at the same time, I don’t think I’m brave enough to stand losing him when he dies.” She lowered her hands to face Diana squarely. “But you are.”
I’m not! Diana screamed in her mind. She had been just as terrified, just as heartbroken when she saw him with a dozen arrows in him. She had tried not to think about how deep her feelings for Delacroix ran, but the aftermath of the battle had forced her to admit that she could not bear to lose him either.
“So you’re just giving him up? To me?” Diana shook her head. “He’s not an object!”
“I know he isn’t.” Veronica replied quietly. “But I’m withdrawing anyway.” She started to head towards the door.
Diana called after her. “You still love him. What happens when he does love you back?”
Veronica did not answer as she left.
“Diana?” Queen Hippolyta peeked into the room. “There you are! I was looking for you.”
“Yes, mother?”
“Come with me to the council room.” Hippolyta said sternly. “We must discuss what to do with those… men on the island.”
Moments later, Diana found herself seated along with her sister Donna, Phillipus, Artemis, Mala, and Io in their council room, reserved for important meetings.
“Just this morning, we received a message from the island. Telling us of the name of their new nation and their people.” Hippolyta informed them. “They call themselves Myrmidons now, and their nation would be Myrmida.”
“Ares’ work.” Phillipus commented. “He wants to use them for some nefarious plan of his.”
Diana laid a hand on Hippolyta’s arm. “What else did they say, Mother?”
“They said they would welcome diplomatic ties with us, and that they would soon contact the rest of the world governments.” Hippolyta frowned. “I fear they are up to no good.”
“Do we know what they’re doing now?” Artemis asked.
Donna replied, “Gawain’s on the island now as an observer, and he told me they were setting up barracks and military facilities.”
“And they’re allowing him to see them do that?” Artemis was skeptical.
“Yes. Gawain says he’s also been involved with their training, and there’s been a lot of former professional soldiers going to the island. The Myrmidons are being put through boot camp by the hundreds, and so far there’s been no explanation for what they’re doing.”
Diana considered the information. The Myrmidons were being very open with what they were doing, forming an army. But the purpose of that army? What was Ares up to?
“So what do we do? We have allies, do we not?” Io pointed out. “They dare not try anything, not while the Justice League and so many around the world are our allies.”
“We will stay vigilant.” Hippolyta declared. “I want sentries watching the Myrmidons at all times. Diana, please contact Atlantis through Aquaman and ask them to keep an eye for us as well. I do not wish to be surprised again, as Heracles did to our fair people once before.”
“Yes, mother.” Diana decided she would talk to Phillip. Perhaps he would be willing to give her some hints of what he and Ares had planned.
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Mayse, Garan and those on the world left behind had many excellent adventures, overturning many evil regimes and deposing tyrants throughout the lands. They called themselves the Grey Hunters, and wandered all over the world, standing up to evil whenever they found it. Mayse in particular became renowned for his exploits, and later became the Grand Master of their fledging order, taking in unwanted rebellious boys and turning them into deadly soldiers to send forth into the world.
But that is another story for another day.
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