# The Will of a God



## TheOrangeQuill (Aug 2, 2012)

First of those stories I write when music inspires me. Just random picture in my head, write a story. I apologise for any spelling/grammar mistakes, writing on my phone with a stubborn autocorrect. Anyway, here it is. 

_________________________________________________

 Etherions spirit was broken. Chained in line with his fellow Garthuns, he had given up. Their army had been defeated in a cowardly attack at night, overrun and murdered as they slept. A third of their number lay dead where they were slain, their enemies not having the honor for a proper burial.

As the rest if the once proud army was forced forward, Etherion tripped, pulled forward by the chains that connected them. His captor laughed, and swung a whip at him. As it made contact with his back, Etherions vision went white. He saw a woman. She was in chains, but also in full amor holding a weapon. It was Nietia, his goddess of persistence. She spoke to him, but her lips did not move, her voice echoing in how head. "Etherion, you have always been a true disciple of my ways. You have fought on through impossible odds, never giving up hope. Yet here you stand, chained as I am, but sinking to the ground defeated. Think of your fallen brothers! Is this how you would honor their noble sacrifice? Rise now Etherion. Fight for what can never be taken. Your will, and your freedom."

Etherions vision returned to normal. He felt rekindled, all his aches and injuries as nothing. He stood, and saw the slave driver swinging his whip again. In a feat of inhuman speed, he raised his shackles, pulled them tight, and wrapped the whip around it. He yanked back, and pulled the man to the ground. Yanking again, he pulled the man toward him, and took the keys from his belt. The heavyset man tried to rise, but Etherion kicked him in the head, stilling him. He unlocked his shackles, and took his fallen enemies sword. He quickly went down the line, freeing more of his brothers, who spread out and used whatever they had to free each other. Shackles were bashed open with rocks, chains pried apart with swords. Some of the enemy ran up and tried to stop them, but the freed Garthuns couldn't be tamed. 

They were all free. Etherion was overjoyed with the sight of his brethren rising up again. He looked for his king, someone to rally under, but couldn't find his ruler. He found Aberus, the second in command of their army. " Hail Aberus. Where is our king, Lord Senethel?" Sorrow crossed Aberus' face. "Tis a dark day broher Etherion. He is among the souls slain by the bastards cowardly attack in the night." 

Etherions heart swelled with pain. Senethel was a wise and just king. As he silently grieved, the rest of the soldiers gathered around Etherion and Aberus. Etherion thought they were waiting for orders from Aberus, so he turned to his leader, but Aberus shook his head. "No Etherion. It was you who rose up and saved us. While I had accepted my fate, you were not so easy to lie down and die." Aberus sunk to one knee, and looks at the ground. "You will lead us now."

Etherion was stunned. He'd never lead men before. He had no idea what to do. He started to panic, but Nietias voice echoed through his head, saying "Strength Etherion. Use the power you have been bestowed." He gulped. Then pulled Aberus to his feet. He nodded to him, and Aberus turned to join the ranks, leaving Etherion alone in the circle. He took a deep breath, and began to speak. 

"Many of you did not know me before today. I did not even know myself. But I have seen the truth, as you have all shown it to me. We cannot give up. Even when we have been beaten, chained, and humiliated, we are still strong. It does not matter our number or theirs. We fight for our home. We fight for our sons, our daughters, and our wives, and I'll be damned to the depths of hell if I'll let these whoresons take my city from me!" The gathered troops yelled out a mighty battle cry, then grew silent, waiting for their new leader to finish. "What do you say Garthuns? Do we cower here and wait for our deaths? Or do we charge, weapons raised to meet it head on in battle? I am no great king. I am not even the greatest warrior among us. But I will not lee anyone take my home! I will fight for it to my sting breath. If you'll fight with me, then arm yourselves! Take what weapons you need from these worthless warriors. If you'll not fight, then stay, and wait for the shackles to close about your wrists once more." 

The men gave their cry again, then spread through the camp, fighting armed men and taking their swords, shields, and whatever else they needed. Etherion only took a sword and a helmet, then stood under one of the standards that their enemy had kept as a trophy. He held it high on a broken spear, waiting for his men to rally again. They returned, armed and ready for a battle. He stabbed the flag into the ground, and pointed with his sword over the hill. They charged as one mass, yelling like demons. They came over the crest of the hill, and stopped dead. There, burning before them, was the once proud city of Garthun. Surrounding its walls was an army three times as massive as the depleted Farthing troops. Some of the men fell to their knees, the sight crippling them. Even Etherion was struck, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He turned slowly, and stood on a stump to see all his men. 

"Look hard Garthuns! This is what the heartless invaders have wrought! They  destroyed our city, and burn it. They revel in their victory, thinking us slain and destroyed. There are many more of them. Scores more. But they are nothing! They surround themselves with hordes because they are weak and spineless. We are strong! We are revenge embodied! Fight with me! To our victory!" One soldier cried out to him. "Etherion, we go to our deaths! We cannot be victorious against such a massive foe!" Yells of agreement went through the assembled army. "Why does this slow you brother? We were chained and bound, accepting of a fate worse than death, being forced to work for the slugs that killed our king. And now, we have a chance to strike at them, giving them reason to fear the name Garthun! But now that it seems death is our only option, you hesitate? Where is your strength men? Mine has not left me! I will fight, I will destroy as many of these bastards as I can. Whether you fight with me or stay here and hide like dogs is no matter. But my honor will remain untainted! Now, to victory or to death! Charge!!!" 

He turned, yelled out a battle cry, and charged. He heard the sound of hundreds of footsteps behind him, and smiled. He knew that they charged to their deaths. So did his men behind him. But they would not go down without blood of the enemies painting the ground, and the memory of the Garthuns carving itself into their legends forever.


----------



## GoatBrain (Aug 2, 2012)

Splendid. I was a bit worried about the dialogue of the goddess, but I'd say you nailed it. I like how you kept the theme and language consistent throughout. Too many stories these days use modern english out of context and it ruins the story.


----------



## TheOrangeQuill (Aug 3, 2012)

Thank you. It bugs me when I see that as well, and I really hoped I kept it right. Also, the goddess was kind of a shot in the dark. Glad it ended well


----------



## vcnavega (Aug 7, 2012)

Beautifully written. You’ve been able to do something I am struggling to do myself – to create the scene on the mind of the reader. I could see the characters and the battlefield. Really well described.


----------



## DW Keech (Aug 7, 2012)

Beautiful job.  I'm ready for more.    :joyous:


----------



## TheOrangeQuill (Aug 9, 2012)

Thank you. That's really why I'm writing these, to show you what the music showed me. I don't recall it for this one, but for the others in this class, would you like me to tell you guys the music title and author that inspired me?


----------

