God's Champion

"I've got to get away! Why won't this nag go any faster?" The Champion cried as he raced his horse along the winding mountain road. He could still hear something chasing after him, forcing him ever higher into the mountains just outside the city of Essensia. He couldn't tell who or what chased him, but he knew he couldn't let it catch him. He had seen little more than shadows and heard little more than some sort of snarl, but he was filled with a dread which he could not explain.

This was difficult to imagine. He was, after all, God's Holy Champion, the protector of all Essensia. He had battled all the enemies of his people, never feeling such fear. He had defeated giants, trolls, and fearsome dragons with his skill and his Holy Sword. Why was he so afraid now?

He spurred his horse to greater speed. It was early spring, and snow was still on the ground in this high country outside Essensia. The Champion worried about his horse slipping, but he dismissed this quickly, trusting his horsemanship. After all, he had been taught by the best trainers in Essensia since childhood. Now, he was fully a warrior, a great hero, decorated for his bravery; surely, he could outride some common thug seeking his purse.

Still, he was afraid.

Then, up ahead, he saw three large boulders which marked a sharp turn in the snowy road. The boulders were without snow or ice, and this gave the Champion an idea. He rode for them, pushing his horse to its limits. Then, in a move which others would have thought to be insane, he leaped from his moving horse onto the rocks. There, he fought hard not to lose his balance, he knew falling would mean his capture. He regained himself, standing catlike upon a boulder, and he watched his horse gallop down the road.

He laughed at his cleverness.

He knew his pursuer would soon be upon him. He looked down the slope of the mountain, it was covered with Elmoran trees, which remained green all year, and were the strongest wood, commonly used for furniture and city walls. Again, he grinned, spotting a nearby branch, and he leaped from his perch, grasping the branch with his hands. He pulled himself up into the tree. Like the apes of the Dry Lands he fought years before, he moved through the strong branches of the Elmoran trees. He used the dense forest to move down the mountain slope, swinging through the trees, thus leaving no tracks. He climbed down from the last tree, almost laughing at the excitement of the chase. He looked up the slope behind him, certain to have eluded his enemy, not having left a single track in the snow.

Still, he heard Him coming.

"What manner of being is he?" he panted.

Ahead of the Champion, further down a hill, he saw a stream, which, with the coming of spring and melting ice, had swollen into a fair river. Running north and into the water, he sought yet another means of outrunning his foe. As soon as he entered the stream, ignoring the cold in his boots, he turned immediately south, wading chest high upstream for more than a mile. He was shivering, and began to have difficulty breathing, but he persevered. Certainly, he had eluded his enemy now.

Yet, still he heard pursuit, and now, although he wasn't sure, he thought he heard dogs baying in the distance. Not an ordinary sound either, but something awful and desolate. He climbed from the icy water, trudging recklessly through the snow.

"They can't catch me! I'm God's Champion!" he whispered.

Then, ahead, he saw a rocky ledge which overlooked a great chasm and he suddenly felt as though all was lost. As he got closer, however, he saw that across from this ledge, was another cliff, separated by twenty feet or so. When he reached this, and looked down, he saw that the chasm was at least a mile deep, and his heart began to pound blood painfully through his veins.

Again, he thought he heard the baying of hounds.

In desperation, he darted his eyes all about. Then, he smiled. He saw a thin Elmoran tree near the ledge.

"What a miracle for you to have grown here!" he said happily.

The Champion ran to the tree, and pulled his Holy Sword — the Sword of his station, wielded by dozens of Champions through time. The blade was solid gold, the hilt ivory, wrapped by heavy leather straps. It was said that God Himself forged the blade in Heaven, so that His Champion might wield it in His stead. He swung this powerful blade and cut through the tree in a single stroke, felling it, and bridging the gap between ledges.

Again, he was pleased by his resourcefulness, and he crawled across his makeshift bridge toward the other side.

He was almost across when, again, he heard the dogs, and he turned his head instinctively toward the sound. His balance was thrown by this, and he felt himself begin to slip from the Elmoran tree.

"Oh God, no!" he cried, trying to grab hold of something even as he felt gravity pull him down into the chasm.

Then, a hand grabbed his.

God's Champion was pulled to safety on the other side of the ledge, but he knew immediately that something was wrong. The hand which grasped his own was vice-like, unyielding, and would not release him, even after he had reached solid ground. Instead, this hand began to drag God's Champion, like a broken doll, through the snow. He tried to struggle free, but he was helpless, unable, with the violent motion to even see who had him. All he saw were clouds of steam emitting from this being who dragged him.

He was taken, at length, to a great cave. Inside, God's Champion was flung violently against a cave wall and landing upon soft warm dirt. There, he struggled to rise, his body aching in a terror he would not admit, even to himself. After all, he was God's Holy Champion! Finally, he reached his feet and unsheathed his Holy Blade.

He felt a presence behind him. He wanted to scream, but he refused. He had known, although he had never allowed himself to admit it, who he had been running from. He gritted his teeth, and spun to face his enemy. He considered the eyes of his foe, looking, finally at His charred body. He stood before God's Champion filled with bleeding, infected sores, steaming in the cool spring air. The Adversary stood there upon hooved feet, with legs of a black goat. His face was long, pointed, with long matted hair reaching his haunches. His teeth were yellow, large, and his eyes were cruel and haughty.

"You led a merry chase," he said.

"How did you find me?" The Champion whispered.

"You and I are quite intimate, Champion of God. You will want to know why I have brought you here, correct?"

"Yes."

The Adversary shook his head with melancholy. "I am disappointed, for I should think God's Holy Champion would have unraveled at least part of my plan."

"You want to kill me, as you have so many others."

"You do not give me enough credit, Champion of God. Killing would be a small achievement.

"What, then, do you want?"

"Truly, you are a forbidden fruit worth picking," he tittered.

"You speak like a senile hag!"

"You will be my crowning achievement, Champion of God. I have watched you since birth, biding my time and awaiting this day. You will be the one Champion of God who shall serve me."

"Never!" This angered the Champion, suppressing a bit of his fear.

"That is what your father said, and his father, and his father before him Then I killed them."

"You lie! You know nothing of my fathers!" The Champion roared.

"Of course." He bowed politely. "In any event, I did come to your poor, heartsick father. Sickened by the death of his wife, who I also claimed, just after you birth, in fact, Champion of God. I comforted him, in his hour of despair. Then, when he found out who I was, he took that very sword which trembles in your paws, and plunged it into his own heart. Ahhhh, what sweet irony!" He leaped into the air, somersaulting and landing exactly on his own footprints. "Am I not wonderful?"

"I will not kill myself, if that is your hope."

"Good. You are made of sterner stuff. You have overcome so much heartache, so many trials and tribulations, surely nothing can make you destroy yourself. Which is all in accordance with my plans." He bowed mockingly.

"Why you are tormenting me? Whatever you plan to do, do it I say! Let this mockery of a conversation be at an end!"

A confused look crossed his bleak features. "I merely challenge you to have the courage to try and kill me, Champion of God. Is that not your function? Is that not why you exist? Are you not God's Champion?"

"This makes no sense!" he stammered.

"I had once dared to challenge your father to fight me, as was his sacred duty, but he was a coward and killed himself instead."

"My father was a great Champion! He served God! I ask you again, vile beast, why do you torment me?!"

"You are God's Champion. It is my obligation to torment you, as it is your obligation to fight against me. In this, perhaps it is I who am the better servant to your God."

"You do nothing in God's name!"

"Whatever the name, you must admit that I played you like a fine instrument in an orchestra of my own design. In fact, were it not for my temptations, you would not even be born, Champion of God. Every hardship you have known, every foe you have beaten, every obstacle which you have overcome is because of me. Perhaps you should think of me as your grandfather."

The ground shook with His laughter. The Champion fell to one knee.

"At last, you bow before me, Champion of God."

"I worship only God, who is your better in every way!" The Champion snapped.

"You think He cares for you? He doesn't, you know. He denies you, even as you deny me."

"What?"

"All humanity denies me at every turn. You deny your own sins as though that will make the evil they create disappear." He moved, in the span of a second, to within an eyelash of The Champion's stunned face. "The Lord of Darkness spits hot venom into your face, yet you would rather slam your eyes shut against my reality than oppose me. You would call me bad luck, natural disaster, karma. These things are not real. There is only Me!"

"Truly, I am saddened that you feel a lack of recognition, Dark One," The Champion said with open sarcasm.

The Adversary leaped again, high into the air, flipping backward, landing some feet away. There he stood, bowing politely like a grand Lord at the court of an Empress. "I am what I am." He bellowed his laughter, wreaking havoc with the cavern due to boom of his voice. Stalactites fell, and The Champion barely escaped being impaled by the sharp rocks.

"What is so funny?" The Champion cried.

Everything stopped. "It was something your God once said to a man who was much like yourself. I told you that I enjoyed irony."

"God speaks to no man."

"Not here, not now, not on this world. Yet, on another attempt at His earthly vision, he often spoke with His cattle."

"What are you saying?" The Champion shook his head, trying to understand what he was being told.

"Behold, I unfurl the very nature of creation!" He said, waving his hands above His head. "You see, your little world is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Your God has created and re-created this world many times. Each time, He has failed." A great stone pillar rose beneath the Dark Lords' feet, becoming a pulpit.

"God cannot fail."

"Your very statement betrays one of His inadequacies. He does, indeed, fail, Champion of God. Doubtless, I must take some responsibility for His troubles, but rest assured, your God is fallible."

"I do not believe you."

"He is stubborn, too. It seems that He truly is enamored with you humans. After each world fails, He resigns Himself to undo the mistakes of the last world. Yet, every canvass he paints mirrors the others. His love for you is truly insane. He even loves your faults! He will never realize that it is man himself who is the bane of His dreams."

"God dreams?" The Champion was spell bound, listening like a tiny child to a tale from a favorite uncle.

"Of course he dreams. He is no better than I! He needs, and He suffers, He sleeps, and He dreams. He knows passion and love, He knows fear and hatred. In fact, twas at His knee that I learned the craft of cruelty."

"The tale of your fall from grace?"

"It is no tale!" he screamed. "My fall is the only truth which He perpetuates on all His worlds. He blames me for His own failures. Yet, twas He, not I who created humanity. Humanity, who by its very nature is better suited to serve me than Him."

"Surely, God is more creative than to recreate the same world again and again." The Champion couldn't help himself; he was fascinated by all this.

"There are differences. One world, for example, He dwelled with His humans. He sat Himself upon a great mountain and dispensed His brand of justice to all. On another world, He created lesser God's to handle smaller spheres of interest. Still, He remains blind to His true error."

"What of this world?"

"Aye, let us speak of this world. What was His innovation here?" He smiled, and The Champion feared that he had fallen into some kind of verbal trap. "Twas His decree that, on this world, man would have ultimate power over his own destiny. Man would be given power over his evil while God would remain aloof, never interfering, no matter the circumstance. It is His belief that you can control me, where He could not."

"That pleases you?"

"Why shouldn't it?" He cackled. "God made this world under the delusion that man can defeat me! What a joke!" He then caused his stone altar to burst into flames beneath his feet. "To this end, did God pluck a single tooth from His mouth and He did forge it into the very sword which lies, shaking within your grasp."

"Then I can destroy you!" The Champion shouted.

The laughter stopped. "The Lord Your God will that man would Champion His laws and beliefs, protecting His flock from the hideousness that is I. In simple terms, Champion of God, the sword can kill me, but I think that you are impotent and without courage enough to properly stand against me. I certainly doubt that I will slip from my perch, and fall onto the sword point!"

"I will not be underestimated! I am God's Champion, as were my forefathers! I have a sacred duty, and I am truly capable of carrying it out!"

"Then, show me your mettle!"

The Dark Lord leapt from his altar, gliding toward The Champion like a diving hawk, talons extended. His claws ripped into The Champion left cheek. Hot blood ran from his face and he fell to the ground. He knew that he had been disfigured, he knew that he was bleeding badly. This fear lasted only a moment, and then his training, everything he had learned in war took over, including the one ability he regretted, the ability to hate. He rose to his feet, searching for his opponent, but he did not see him.

"You coward! Where are you?" he screamed.

"I am still with you, Champion of God." The voice came from above. The Champion looked up, and he saw Him hanging, bat-like from a stalactite above.

"Why does a being of such power feel the need to toy with a mere mortal such as I?"

"Why, Sir Champion, are you angry?" He leaped down, somersaulting and landing nose against nose with the Champion.

"No." The Champion wasn't sure why he answered thus, because he was furious, but he thought it to be the correct answer.

"Are you certain?" He smiled. A foot-long tongue sneaked from his mouth, and licked the blood from The Champion's face.

"Get away from me!" He was beyond rage, insane with hatred. He felt as though he were on fire and he cared only for the death of this beast before him. He attacked, slashing the Adversary's legs with his Holy Sword.

The Dark Lord fell.

Then, God's Champion raised his blade around his head, and plunged it deeply into the throat of the Lord of Darkness who still managed to cry out in angst.

An odd look came over the face of the fallen Adversary. There was a kind of cruel satisfaction there as God's Champion removed his sword, and poised for a killing blow. God's Champion hesitated at this, his anger draining from him like the stopper had been pulled from a sink of rage. He stepped backward, panting and confused. "This is wrong. How is this so simple?"

Now, the expression of the Dark Lord changed into one of utter desperation and horror. "My heart! You must pierce my heart, Champion of God!"

The Champion backed away, more confused. "No," he said.

"What!?" The beast now felt irrational fury. "Are you insane?" He threw himself onto his stomach, pounding the ground in a tantrum. His ire was terrible to behold, for each time he struck the ground, the whole world seemed to tremble!

"Stop!" The Champion screamed.

Instantly, everything was still.

God's Champion, sprawled on the ground, looked wearily for his opponent. He saw Him, weeping and sobbing before him. Hot tears fell from his face onto his hands, which blistered with each drop and then instantly evaporated. Then, the Dark Lord crawled close to God's Champion.

"I hurt," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" The Champion asked.

"I am injured by the angst of countless worlds made over. I know the agony of trillions of years of punishment. Mine is a great hurt, and now, I am left with recourse but to be fully and utterly... honest."

"I don't understand you."

"I must tell you the entire truth, not just that which serves an evil end. I resent being forced into this, for honesty to me, is like murder to you, Champion of God. I am repulsed by it, for that, by God's decree, is my nature. Honesty which does not serve an evil is anathema to me, yet I am left with nothing else." He sat straighter, cleared his throat, and began.

"What I say, not even your God knows. This is my one secret from Him." It seemed obvious that the words were heavy in his mouth, painful in his throat.

"I will hear you, Dark One."

"I am the Lord of all that is Evil, the Great Corruptor, the Bringer of Woe, and Him Who Devours all Innocence. I am Satan, Lucifer, Asmodeaus and a thousand other vile callings. This is the cosmic role for which I unwittingly auditioned, but was thrust upon me. There was a time when I thought to be the monarch in Hell was better than a slave in Heaven. I was wrong."

"I do not understand."

"I have come to the realization that, even though I am not in Heaven, I am still God's servant. Everyone is, whether they know it or not. God uses me to weed out those who are worthy of Heaven and those who deserve Hellish punishment. All my grand schemes are for naught, for in truth, they are just part of His cosmic plan. I do not rule over Hell, I merely tend it for Him. I am God's garbage man.

"Tis why honesty is so difficult for me. I have no choice but to be evil, for that is the mold He cast me into. He bade me to be evil, and so I am. I have defiled and defamed for millennia without number, and I know that, truly I am nothing. I am a great slug, God's vermin, I am disgusting even to myself and I would not be Lord of Darkness any longer!"

"You are what you are, eh?" The Champion replied.

"I see you have a taste for irony as well, Champion of God. Can't you see how miserable I am? I am an abomination to all who behold me. I cannot stand this awful hatred which is rightly felt for me by the universe."

"What can be done?" he asked carelessly.

"Have you sinned?"

"Obviously, you know that I have."

"Does your God forgive you?" he asked quickly.

"Of course."

"Does He love only those who are without sin?"

"God has love for everyone."

"What of those sinners who escape my notice, and are first sent to Heaven? What of them?" Satan smiled.

"They stand before the Lord and are judged by Him, forgiven by Him if that is in their hearts."

"Exactly!"

"I don't see your point."

"I have arranged everything to direct you here to me. I have calculated everything so that you might learn to hate and fear me. I made you feel thus so that I might force you to take your sword and slay me, for only here, on this world, is this possible."

"You want to die?"

"Yes! I want to die! That way I can stand before God and beg Him to forgive me!" He moved onto his knees. "I am begging you, Champion of God, kill me!"

"This cannot be God's will."

"I do not care about God's will! I have bent to His will for ages! I have paid my debt thousand-fold! I must be free!"

"I cannot," The Champion said softly.

"What of your own interests? You are not without such, after all. Think, for when I am dead, who will hold the souls of Hell from being judged and sent to Heaven? Think of your parents, both of whom you can redeem this day. You alone can do what even God cannot!"

The Champion began to feel dizzy.

"Think of your mother. You know that she was a good woman. She is undeserving of her fate. What right do you have to allow her to continue suffering? What of your father, who Championed God all his life? Kill me, and in so doing, free those you love!" Satan gestured, and there, before The Champion appeared the images of his loved ones who had been sentenced to Hell for all eternity. His parents, bound in fiery chains, inundated with insects and snakes.

The Champion looked at them, and an awesome, almost tangible sadness filled him like sour wine. His tears became his master, his chest heaved, his muscles flexed and tightened, his teeth clenched, threatening to break his jaw bone. Then, all his sadness, his pity, his pain and his love exploded like a great star bursting in space. A great roar came from his throat and he lifted his Holy Sword high above his head, and plunged it into the breast and heart of the Lord of Darkness.

The tooth of God did chew upon the vile meat of evil itself.

Then, there was nothing.

The Champion felt a weight fall upon his body. He grabbed hold of it, staring down at the face of the limp body with fascination. He held a young, beautiful man with long red curls, surrounding high cheeks bones with alabaster skin, deep blue, weeping eyes. A smile was upon his lips and a voice which was more beautiful than a choir said, "thank you."

Before him, The Champion saw the shades of his mother and father, smiling and without pain. They held each other, and together, they ascended out of sight.

Then, there was nothing, an utter void, bereft of light. The world of God's Holy Champion had now become one with Him, having fulfilled its destiny as no other world had.

God was truly happy.

Then, from somewhere, and from nowhere, a great voice shouted out in the cosmos. "Let there be light!"