Dogs of War, Part 2

I grasped a handful of the tubes stuck into his chest. "How easily I could change that for you."

"And still, you don't."

Our supplies were limited, most of all our medicine and life support machinery. But I was not the only one of our number who wanted to learn the truth of this Banarii's claim, else he would have been left to die, his words unheeded, our blind obedience uninterrupted. Then it wouldn't matter what state our salves and bandages were in.

I released my grip on the plastic veins supplying him lifeblood. "You could have made it all up so that we would keep you alive."

"Banarii live and die by honor. If the war rages on, I should have no desperate need to cling to life."

"You call slaughtering innocents honorable?"

"There is no more virtue in claiming your neighbor's home as your own."

"These were blasted lands, unclaimed and inhospitable."

"Perhaps as perceived by your people. But I'm sure you didn't keep me alive to discuss semantics or matters of foreign policy."

I had only ever known the enemy to be uncaring, brutal killers. To meet and speak with one so capable of logical negotiation made me begin to wonder what else we were wrong about. I crossed my arms. "What do you mean, 'the war is over?'"

He sat up with a grunt, his granite countenance appearing stoic and unaffected. "Your king has perished, leading a suicide squad disguised as a diplomatic envoy."

"Did he succeed?" I heard myself ask the question before I could consider a more amicable way to phrase it.

"It remains unclear. But our capital has been decimated."

"And, so, what, you've been trying to get the word out? Wandering into every outpost you encounter?"

He coughed and cleared his throat, making a sound like slinging a sack of bricks over one shoulder. "It became apparent that we had underestimated you humans. You have a will to fight and survive like no other opponent we've faced. Even when our seat of power had been overturned, your smaller isolated camps continued to persist, launching small waves of skirmishes against our surviving forces. My superiors didn't believe me when I insisted that perhaps it was because many of you still did not know what had transpired. They accused me of being sympathetic to the enemy and I faced execution for treason. I bargained for my life, choosing exile over death, so that I could spend the last of my days helping to end this war."

My head swam. I did my best to maintain my composure, but a gale force storm of emotions raged on behind my clammy exterior. It was hard to believe what he was saying, but it had that undeniable feeling of rightness. I had never been a god fearing man, and now I was faced with the toughest test of faith in my life.

"Let's say you're telling the truth."

"And I am."

"But let's just say. Am I supposed to have my men pack their bags, tell them we done did a good job, and everyone can just go home now?"

"Do as it pleases you, human. There is no more fighting to be done."

"There will always be something to fight for, somewhere."

I saluted him, switched off the life support machine, and left the medic's tent to tell the troops that the Banarii mongrel had finally bit the dust.

The Greatest Honor of All

The dust settled, and I realized I was unscathed. I looked up at the Gargoyle towering behind me, his wings unfurled to form a protective barrier. He had a few new scars and bruises, but he seemed unfazed, as always.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He rumbled with a low chuckle. "Of course. Are you?"

"I think so," I offered. There was an ache in my spine, a familiar chest pain, and a ringing in my ears that still hadn't gone away. I told him so.

"Nothing that won't heal in time," he assured me, dusting off his thick stony arms. We were both covered with a thin layer of ash from the explosion, and the aftershocks had loosed debris all around us. The Gargoyle caught the look of hopelessness in my eyes as I surveyed the damage. "And we can clean all this up, too." He began to pick up the pieces.

I shook my head, nearly on the verge of tears. "It's too much. Why bother? We should just leave and start over somewhere new."

"But you like it here," he said matter-of-factly, cradling an armful of rubble.

"I can't keep doing this all by myself." I felt stupid and childish as soon as the words passed my lips. Had I always been this whiny?

He chuckled again. "You don't have to do anything alone. I've always been here, you know."

I plopped onto the floor cross-legged as he cleaned up the disaster zone around me. "Well, yes... but, I only just realized it. And it's not the same."

"No?" He perked up from his work to look at me with his fluorescent blue eyes and a craggy smile. "I'm hurt," he laughed, before going back to gathering.

"It's not as good, anyway," I insisted. "We can't... you know."

"Mmhmm. But is that really necessary?"

"Sometimes it feels like it."

He dusted his hands off in thunderclaps, having cleared away most of the wreckage, and sat down beside me. "That's the kind of thinking that usually gets you into these sorts of messes in the first place, you know."

"Do I just suffer with it, then?"

"Embrace it," he replied immediately, with a small shrug. The Gargoyle scooted closer and wrapped his fluffy tail around behind me. "Now that you're aware of my love for you, remember that you will always have it."

I leaned against him, wracked with utter despair and frustration. "It's still not the same."

He gently lifted my chin with a single claw so that I could look into his calm sapphire eyes. "That's the best part."

Inspired by Alanis Morisette's new single, "Guardian."