I-b

I fled through the forests, and you followed me. I struggled and dragged myself through the deserts, and somehow you kept apace. I don;'t remember how long I've been running from you. Years? Decades? Lifetimes? When it started, I was young; I had a place in the world; I had a name. Since then my muscles have caught fire, burning more with each aching step; my heart has grown colder, and I've done things that before would have repulsed me; my lungs have become blackened, charred by the smoke of a thousand nighttime fires; and my skin has gone grey, bleached by a hundred years of moonlight runs. My mind has atrophied, and I'm making more mistakes now than I care to think; then again, you've been making even more. I know you're dying, but so am I.

Sometimes, I forget why I'm running, but never for long. I still have the scars to remind me, and I can still hear the voice o your father, dying, pleading for his own life. I was his God then, and I was a vengeful God. I'll never forget the horrors that I brought upon you, how I tore your family apart. At the same time, I'll always remember the countless horrors that man had visited on me.

There was something you never knew: We were at war, your father and I. In the eyes of the world, her was the 'maverick general', the greatest soldier of all time. I saw a side of him that you never witnessed though, a side darker and more cruel than even my most wicked of dreams. I fought many a battle against your father, across many seas, and over many lands. I've shed more of his blood and he more of my own than that of thousands of faceless men in thousands of nameless wars. He destroyed my family, and so I destroyed his.

I ended his life just as quickly and with as little doubt as any of the other thousands I had taken. We were at war, your father and I, but now I have no one left to fight but you.

I-a

You fled through the forests, and I followed suit. You clambered through the deserts, and I struggled behind you. I don't remember how long I've been chasing you, but I know it's longer than I care to think. When it started, I was vibrant; I was young; I had a future. Since then, my lips have grown colder, and my heart burns hotter; my hair has gone grey, while my eyes became blacker; my muscles became wiry, and my brain feels too big for its skull. I've aged too many years, over too many countless, blurred days. I'm dying, but so are you.

Sometimes, I forget why I'm chasing you, but never for long. I still have scars to remind me, and I can still here the voice of my father, dying, pleading. I'll never forget how you tore my family asunder, how you destroyed the pillar of goodness that was my father.

I remember more clearly now: We were at war, my father and I. He was called the greatest soldier of all time, the 'maverick general'. No one ever came close to achieving the same glories a him, save for one person: me. Together, we fought countless battles, bloodied innumerable shores, salted uncounted fields, and pillaged and sacked more cities than I care to think. With each return home, it was a new victory: we were lauded as the greatest, the best, the saviours.

You ended that life as quickly as we'd ended so many others. We were at war, my father and I, but now I've no one left to fight but you.