Resolve

Long ago, there was a boy and a girl.

They made their home in the barren desert land by the name Drought. All their lives, they had gotten used to the scorching sun, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t long for a life of peaceful, beautiful weather.

They had been told stories of a wondrous land of the past, where nature and humans lived together in harmony. However, an evil serpent had stolen all of the water in the world and stored it in its own fortress, prompting their God to vanquish it. But their battle instead split the world in half, where all the water now resided on the other side of their homeland, while their nation was banished from forever knowing the liquid of life.

“Then I’ll be the one to make it happen!” It wasn’t the boy that uttered those words, but the girl. “I’ll go to Drizzle, beat them up, and get us back our water!”

The boy only answered with a smile. It had always been that way — while he was supposed to be the one to lead their nation one day, it was his childhood sweetheart that was the one talented in battle. Him, he only knew his ways around words. Rallies, politics, the boy could do them all. But give him a spear and he would miss ten strikes out of ten.

The boy never felt bad about that, however. He was content with being the king behind the scene, giving a strong supporting role for the warriors on the front lines. “I’ll make sure yer battle goes without any obstacles, then!” he would exclaim cheerfully whenever they announced their dreams.

As the years went by, the two grew up to be a fine pair. The girl was touted as a prodigy of her generation, expert in every art of combat there was. Her swordsmanship was enough to even put their teacher to shame after just a year of tutelage, while her sharpshooting skill was second to none — rumors spread that she could fire an arrow from one end of the country, and it would hit the target on the opposite end.

Meanwhile, the boy had also grown stronger, but his strength was seldom used. Instead, he was the perfect image of a charismatic king — exactly what to say, when to say it, he knew all the timings possible. Just as he came of age, the boy had already garnered the support of the entire kingdom sans none, a feat that none of his forefathers could have possibly dreamt of achieving. It wasn’t strange that he immediately inherited the throne after his father’s passing.

And it also wasn’t strange that the two naturally got together. There was already a childhood engagement, and it became official almost immediately. On that day, the boy was to be king, while his queen would also serve as his greatest general. A wedding that would solidify their nation’s boundless strength as the strongest in the world, or so they believed.

But reality had different matters.

One day, their neighboring nation — the one that had all the waters of the world to themselves — attacked.

The king was assassinated on the spot. Even if the girl was a genius in combat, there was only so much she could do. And even when the boy had all the support he could have, the lack of real experience meant that he was only meant for so much. But that wasn’t the main discrepancy to their powers.

For some reason, the other side had an army of monstrous creatures.

Those monsters were unlike anything that they had seen. It took tens of their strongest soldiers only to barely contain one. Even the girl, a genius among many, couldn’t hold her candle against the weakest of the bunch.

Their nation almost crumbled. However, “almost” was the worst they could get.

For a miracle had happened.

“O’ Great Indra, is this a trial that you’ve given us?” In her desperate battle, the girl pleaded. “If so, then please! Give us strength to survive this ordeal!”

Her prayers were answered. For a nation without rain, it was the first time that lightning had struck on their land.

After a booming sound, the girl was no more. Instead, there appeared what could only be described as a god of war. Clad in jet-black lightning, with a skeletal frame running all over the body, the girl was like a grim reaper descending on the mortal realm. Raising her hand, she called forth a double-sided blade — the fame vajra from the god of lightning himself — and let loose on the enemy.

It was no exaggeration to say that the first invasion towards Drought was stopped by a single person. However, from then on, the girl… changed.

She became more easily angered. Headaches started to appear in more and more frequent fashion. She started talking to herself, sometimes spontaneously at any given moment.

“Kana, stop using that power,” the boy, now with his own version of that power, said. “Ya’ve done enough. Please… rest, for my sake as well.”

“No,” what he received was only a shake of the head. “I’m the one to shoulder this kingdom’s fate. After all, our God had reincarnated within me.”

What she said had its basis. Their god, Indra, was the avatar of lightning. And ever since she had this power, Kana had been undefeated in any battle — even against her peers of the same power. But that didn’t stop the boy from worrying.

“Ya can’t overexert yerself.”

“But I’m not. And besides, aren’t you the one who pushed for me to be in this position, Your Highness?”

Her words didn’t bear any malice, but it still felt like a thousand cuts into the heart of the young king. Every bit of them were true; ever since he witnessed her strength in battle, the boy had gotten the idea of making her the symbol of victory. He had pushed her to appear before the public, to take gaudy parades after each of her victories, to get the people to even make a shrine for her. After losing his father, he needed someone to stand up to be the beacon of hope. And for him, she was the one.

Little did he know, that was the biggest mistake he had made.

One day, the girl disappeared from the nation. And immediately the next, she appeared on the enemy’s side.

“Kana! What’s the big idea?”

“Don’t you see, Arja? This ‘thing’, it’s the cancer of our world!” she shook her hand — the hand with the emblem of her power. “As long as it still exists, we’ll be forced to fight! We’ll never achieve peace!”

“But that doesn’t explain why ya defected! Ya can just beat up the guys in Drizzle and everything will solve itself, ya’ve said that before! Why are ya turning yer back towards me?”

Of course, her reasoning was just an excuse. She could never tell him that the real reason for her betrayal was because of fear. The so-called god, the source of her power, was slowly eating away her own personality, and with each day that passed, the girl felt that her control would slip away at any moment. So, she made her decision: if one day, her soul would perish to leave room for this unstoppable god, then she would do so in the enemy’s base, letting loose a calamity that would undoubtedly wipe their nation off the map. But she couldn’t explain the reason to her beloved, for she didn’t want him to pity her or exert himself more for her sake.

Though, she didn’t need to explain. Even when everyone else had lost their fate, the boy was the only one that didn’t waver. Even when she had personally defeated him in battle and left their nation, he still held on to the belief that she had her own reasoning. And everything that he did after was for the final preparations to bring her back home.

Everything, including defending the best he could. Learning the myths of old, to figure out the source of their power. Searching high and low for the serpent that was her nemesis. And when he did, he tried his best to make it his second champion. But it still wasn’t enough.

And so, he played the biggest gamble of his life.

“You called me, Your Majesty?” One windy night, a figure appeared in his chamber like a ghost.

It was his old teacher, the grand vizier of the nation, as well as the one person aside from Kana closest to him in all of Drought.

“Duna, I told ya. I’m not officially King yet,” answered Arja. “Don’t call me that.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty. It’s high time you accepted your title.”

“Ugh, Hava’s like this, and now ya as well.”

“I only taught him the best, sir.” True enough, Duna was the teacher to all three of them — Arja, Kana, and Hava alike. “But in any case, for what reason do you wish to call me at this hour?”

“... I want ya to join Drizzle’s army.”

“... Pardon? I don’t understand, sir.”

“Join Kana, and assist her in her conquest. If she just wants to destroy this power, then she could do so by killing the Great Serpent.”

“Sir, I don’t understand,” asked Duna. “Didn’t you just find him? And you were on about how he’d save the world, even.”

“Duna… Ya should learn by now to not believe everything I say at face value.”

“Then should I take this order as-is?”

With a sigh, Arja continued.

“How about now? What do you think?”

From his childhood, Arja was always known to have an accent. No one doubted it — not his friends, his family, even his lover. Only one knew the secrets to his pretense — Duna, who suggested it to him in the first place. “Act with weakness in front of others. It can be used to your advantage in many a case.” Those were his words to the young prince on their first meeting, and the latter had followed to a tee ever since.

Only when the two were together, and only when he was to ask Duna for orders only the latter could do, would Arja return to his original voice.

“... Understood, Your Majesty.” The old man kneeled, his hand placed on his chest as a sign of respect. He knew that his master had decided, and it was only his duty to follow. “How should I assist the traitorous wench?”

“Duna.”

“... My apologies, sir. My feelings got the better of me.”

“I’ll pretend I haven’t heard that, but it’s simple: I’ll give you an order to scout the border. Use that chance to defect to Kana’s side, and don’t let her suspect you. Think of whatever reason you can… say you want her body or something.”

“Sir, do I really look like a person who would do that?”

“.... What do you mean?”

“... I’ll pretend that it wasn’t an insult. But please, continue.”

“Once you’re in, find out what’s wrong with Kana. I’ll contact you in secret about the time to strike us. Beat us in battle, and bring the Great Serpent to Drizzle. Even if she had defected, I’m sure Kana is still looking to kill him. And once she does, everything can finally end, just as the prophecy had foretold.”

“One last question, Your Majesty,” Duna asked. “Why take this approach? What about your people?”

The young man let out a bitter smile — for a while, he finally let out his true emotions.

“I never wished to be a politician, Duna. I only learned to be king for Kana’s sake.”

“And you’d sacrifice your people for her?”

“Willing, yes. But everyone? I’ll only sacrifice the least I could. As much as I hate to admit it, being king is still in my blood. With this, we’ll shift our battlefield away from Drought, so while the casualty at first might look severe, this is the best way for us to save the most we can.”

It was his master plan of getting back everything. A gamble in essence, but his one shot that was the closest to success. Duna had played the role of a villain perfectly, and his second champion was served to his first on a silver platter.

The news of Renji’s betrayal wasn’t much of a surprise to him — Arja knew that Duna was convincing enough to sow seeds of doubts in the former’s mind. And now, it was finally time for him to act.

“Soldiers! Our champion has been captured! We march for Drizzle!”

Arja could barely hold his excitement leading the charge. With the best forces he could muster, the young king set off. He had every card in place, and now, it was time for him to reap the rewards.

However, when the Drought army finally reached the mountains of Drizzle, something else had already greeted them.

A familiar armor, but of a different color. It was once a dark ocean blue, but now it was a sinister violet. The claws were five-fingered and much more defined, while the top had developed into its own helmet — a serpent emblem in the middle, with a spike protruding forward like a horn. Instead of a curved sword, there was a bow worn cross on the individual’s back.

But the most striking feature was their left hand. It was stained with blood, and in their palm, being grabbed by the hair…

Were a pair of familiar heads. One old man, one young woman.

Once he saw the welcoming party, the figure finally spoke.

“Yo, Arja. Here to pick me up? You shouldn’t have.”

“Ren… You bastard…” the young king shook with rage, so much that he had long forgotten to fake his own voice.

“Look on the bright side, man! The war is over, we won!”

“Don’t bullshit me!”

“... Geez, okay,” raising his hands, the armored man chuckled. “I’ll rephrase that. I won. And now, Your Highness, you have two choices.”

“... What?”

“Either prostrate before me and worship me as your new god… Or stand up against me, and show me the infinite potential of humanity.”