The War Backstory: Jacob Seeks His Path

                Jacob loved the buzz of the crowd, the energy in the club even as he could feel them getting restless. He turned towards Maria and smiled. “Give them five more minutes.” He said.

                “Honey no!” she chided him. “Let me get out there now. I can feel them getting antsy.” She continued. Jacob hugged her and she hugged him back but pulled away quickly. “You’ll mess up my hair.” She told him as her hands picked at her shoulder length auburn hair. “Introduce me now or I’m going out there without an intro.” She said with her dark brown eyes holding a stare upon him that made him confident she was fully intending on carrying out her threat.

                His hand ran down her arm. “Anything for you my tan lady.” He said as he started to walk towards the stage.

                “You pale boy. You need more sun.” she teased him as he finally made onto the stage and the crowd started cheering, the band played an upbeat riff of trumpets and saxophones with drums backing him as he made his way to the center of the stage.

                “Good evening everyone!” Jacob said to the crowd drawing applause. “This morning we all went to church to praise God and tonight we celebrate the wonderful things he has given us. Like the chicken, fish, and beef we dine on this evening. The endless forms of alcohol with which to wash them all down with, and of course for all the men in attendance the most important blessing we could have.” He paused to make sure he had everyone hanging on his words. “The company of beautiful women!” he finished and brought a cheer from the crowd. “Speaking of beautiful women, it is my honor to present to you the beautiful, lovely, and talented Maria Benevides!” He finished with a flourish, extending his arms to the side of the stage Maria walked in from.

                He walked towards her and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. His hand lingered for a moment on her hip enjoying the feel of the silk mint green dress that hugged the curves of her body. Then he was off the stage and she was front and center. She began with “God and I” a song that served as cross between a benediction and a national anthem.  Jacob listened as the crowd sang along with her as she went through the lines and the loud cheering when the song finished. Maria stood straight and did not bow or thank the crowd since taking any credit for that song was seen as poor form.

                Once the crowd died down she got into the songs she had written herself. “Third Time’s The Charm” was a song about a pair of lovers who had met in two previous lifetimes but things always had conspired to prevent them from being together but now in this third lifetime together they were finally able to be together and have a family at last. In the middle of the song Maria did her ass shake dance at him that was her sign to him to leave the backstage area and get back to work. Some nights she took longer than others and other nights she just did it while she was dancing and forgot she had done do and was mad when he had left. Jacob was pretty sure she had control of the crowd and was sending him away so he headed back to the bar to help the bartenders keep the customers inebriated.

                After serving a few patrons Jacob noticed Jonathan standing at the end of the bar. “My friend, what can I do for you?” he asked as he shook Jonathan’s hand.

                “The question is what can I do for you?” Jonathan replied. “This place looks packed yet you’re wearing those poor clothes, has the Lord turned his favor away from you?” he said in a playful tone, mocking Jacob’s drab green shirt and black pants that had stains on them.

                “Oh I don’t wear my nice clothes on work days, and every day is a work day.” Jacob replied with a laugh. “Unlike you my friend, you must have made a tailor very happy with that absurd outfit you have on.”  Jacob teased him reply. Jonathan was in a black suit with a white shirt and emerald green tie that all looked like they had never been worn before.

                “The Malaguti family believes that making a good presentation is an important part of doing business. We are also prepared to increase our offer for this establishment by twenty percent and to offer you a yearly stipend based on the business here. As you are well aware we run many of the gaming halls and entertainment centers in Paradise and are looking to expand now to the west. We hold nothing in Serenity and rather than starting something from scratch and competing with you, we would rather just find common ground and keep this successful establishment going strong.”

                Jacob started nervously washing a glass, the offer he was being made was very attractive and he knew he wanted to take it but he had to talk to Maria first. “What about the war? Serenity is the biggest city near the Kingdom. I know we’re still a good distance away from them but if the guns come out this place could be in danger.” Jacob told him.

                “If the war ever gets here it’ll be years from now, plenty of time between now and then to make money. To be honest the threat of war is good for people, people on edge need to blow off some steam, get a few drinks, chase pretty girls. Then the war happens and I’ll let you in on a secret. The Kingdom is a bunch of babies. We smack them around a couple times and they’ll beg for surrender. I ain’t worried about it.” Jonathan said.

                Jacob looked at his reflection in the glass. He never thought he’d still have all his brown hair this close to age forty his face still looked young with a slender nose and thin lips. His brown eyes kept looking at the glass as if it was to grant him insight into the decision he was about to make. “I’m pretty sure you have a deal.” He told Jonathan after a lengthy pause. “Let me just sleep on it tonight but I really do think I’ll sell to you.” He said with a nod, as if he was trying to convince himself what he was doing was the right thing.

                “That sounds good to me. I shall be here tomorrow in the early afternoon. I will have a check ready for you by then.” Jonathan said and with a bow he walked away from the bar.

                Jacob sighed as he thought about the conversation he’d have to have with Maria. She loved the club and loved singing there and while she knew about the Malagutis and their desire to buy the place she had argued repeatedly with Jacob not to sell.

                3am arrived and last call had come and gone and the last few customers found their way out the door. Jacob locked up the club and went to the till to start counting up the day’s money and then go over the food and drink stock to see if everything looked about right. He knew some of the new bar staff were a bit too liberal with the amount of alcohol in the drinks and if tonight continued that trend there would have to be some conversations had in the morning.

                Maria walked to the bar and Jacob could tell by the look in her eyes that she had seen his conversation with Jonathan earlier in the night. “So what they offering you now?” she asked him. When he didn’t answer after a few seconds continued. “That much really?”

                “Yup.” Jacob told her with a sigh. “It’s a good sized upgrade from the last offer and they are even willing to keep paying me as long as this place keeps turning a profit. I would really be a fool to say no at this point.” He told her trying to make the resignation in his voice sound genuine.

                “You want to sell. You’ve wanted to sell since their first offer. Don’t bullshit me Jacob.” Maria said.

                “But you don’t want me to sell and you are what matters to me. I just.” He started and stopped. “It’s the path not traveled.” He continued.

                Maria seethed as she looked at him. “You came to this town which was nothing, just nothing. Serenity didn’t exist fifteen years ago and now you’re likely the richest man in the whole city, being offered even more wealth and you still don’t think you’ve completed your journey? What do you see in that parable that tells you there’s something else out there for you?” She said with a pleading tone.

                “I don’t know.” He said, he had picked up a glass and was washing it as his nervous tic demanded of him. “I just don’t feel like this is what I’m supposed to be doing. You are supposed to be on that stage. You’re supposed to sing and entertain. It’s why God put you on this earth. Me? I have no idea why I’m here. I just try to do as best I can wherever I am but it doesn’t make me feel like I’m doing what I should be. I feel lost.” He put the glass down and clasped her hands in his. “You’re right about everything. I’ve build myself up to have all this wealth. I have friends and just about every customer in this place loves me, but at the end of the night all I see is a bunch of paper with silly drawings on it. All I think about is another long day of work and dealing with it all. You’re the only reason why I don’t just run away and live in the woods.” He said.

                Maria winced as she heard Jacob speak. “Is this because we haven’t had children yet? You know that it hurts me so much that I haven’t given you a child.” She said with tears welling up in her eyes.

                “No Maria. No it’s not about the lack of children. I hope God doesn’t hear this but honestly even as old as I am I don’t think I’m ready to be a parent. I don’t think a child would fulfill me. I’m just a man looking for my reason to exist.” He said.

                “You don’t have to hide it from me. You can have babies with other girls, it’s OK. Let’s be honest you really should be doing that. You’re wealthy and it’s unbecoming of a man of your stature to be childless. Those who can support children should be having children and lots of them.” Maria said.

                “Are you trying to get rid of me?” Jacob said. He felt a crushing weight in his chest as he asked the question.

                “I just don’t know what to say Jacob. I don’t feel like I make you happy. We have everything except children and if it’s not the lack of children then what is it that hurts you so much? I just don’t get it. What is it that you want?”

                Jacob bowed his head and leaned into Maria. She hugged him as they stood on opposite sides of the bar. “Maybe I’m only on this earth to be your beloved. Maybe I should just take all this money and get us a nice boat and we can sail in the ocean and ignore the world and live out our days in luxury.”

                “I’d throw up. I can’t handle boats you dummy.” Maria said with a laugh. “We could go to Paradise, open a small club, I could sing there and you wouldn’t have to work too much.” She suggested.

                Jacob had a spark in his eye as he looked at Maria. “What if we just kept pushing west? I can take this money and we can practically start our own settlement. We can keep moving west until the Kingdom meets up with us, and when they get to us we’ll offer them a beer and sing them some songs and show them that we Believers aren’t such a bad lot after all.” Jacob said.

                “They don’t want peace. They are planning for war. Did you not read in the papers about the new cannons they are designing? The troop build-up that they have announced? Honey I’ve always supported you but this is insanity. They’ll take our beer and listen to our songs and then put bullets in our heads.” Maria said him with fear in her voice.

                “That’s our papers, run by our church telling us these things. I think they are people just like us. They work, they love, they live they do all the things we do only a little bit differently. There is no reason for them to kill us.“ Jacob said.

                “They hate religion.” Maria said flatly.

                “They aren’t the Empire. They allow churches in cities. There is a minority of people in the Kingdom who do believe, even if most of them are Divine and not Devout. It’s not mocked or insulted the way it is in the Empire.” Jacob responded.

                “That’s all bullshit once their army is big enough they’ll burn all the churches to the ground.” Maria said.

                “Oh they’ve been saying that every year now that next year will be the year of the great church burning. Can you not see that both sides are doing this? That we’re being taught to fear and hate them as much as they are taught to fear and hate us? The last thing on this earth I want to do is to kill another person. I have no idea what kind of monster would look forward to such a thing. I don’t think the Suttons have a bunch of subjects that are monsters. I think they are reasonable people that we can talk to and reach an understanding with.” He paused and smiled. “And why we’re at it we can take a bunch of their money selling them watered down drinks.”

                “So that’s God’s big plan for you? You are the man who’ll get the Kingdom drunk and keep them from killing us and burning our churches.” Maria said with a smile.

                “I don’t know if it is, but I can tell you just thinking about it makes me more excited than anything else I’ve ever thought about doing.” Jacob said.

                “Well you’re going to have to find me a book of songs the Kingdom likes and some fashions they prefer. If I wore green on stage I don’t think it would work to well and I’d hate to spoil your peace initiative.” Maria told him as she gave him a kiss. The kiss led to a second and then a long deep third kiss.

               

                “You looking to try to get pregnant?” Jacob asked her.

                “Always my love.” She replied. 

The War Backstory: The Demon of Sutton's Pyre

The belt came down upon his back. “Why are you cheating me out of my money you little shit!” Blake’s father yelled as he brought the belt down across his son’s back, slashing his flesh with each strike. Blake cried, he shrieked, he tried to find a way to speak but it never happened. The belt struck him again and again because he’s only brought home forty crownsmarks for his week of work at the local library instead of fifty. The library had been closed for a holiday so Blake’s pay was less but his father didn’t care to hear about such things. He knew his son was short money and he had to pay for that with his hide.

                Blake’s mother started pleading with his father to quit hitting him, to quit beating her son and to just leave him alone. His father turned towards her and started stalking her with the belt. Blake heard the strap smacking against he’s mother’s flesh, now she was the one screaming and crying under the assault of her husband. As Blake slowly got to his knees he stared at his father and watched as he beat his mother. It was in that moment that Blake decided to kill his father.

                The things Blake loved to read about in the library were the great war heroes of old. The men who had beaten back the armies of the Empire and allowed the Suttons to take a position of power when they finally agreed to allow their Kingdom to be annexed into the Empire. Dewey Steen, Arthur Walton, Bill Evans and others who committed acts of great bravery on the battlefield and turned the tide of war in the favor of their nation. Blake longed to be remembered like them, to have statues made in his image and for stories to be told of his greatness.

                He knew to be great like them he had to kill like them. Without hesitating and without mercy, that in battle one must end lives in order to secure victory. Blake knew killing his father would be an important step on his road to being a hero, but it wouldn’t be the first step. Other men had to be killed first to throw the police off. If he just murdered his father it would be to obvious who had committed the crime so some level of deception was needed.

                When work was slow at the library he spent his time drawing a crude design of a man’s face, only with evil looking eyes and pointed eyebrows. The mouth was a triangle, flat at top with pointy teeth inside the mouth. At the bottom of this drawing he scratched the word “Demon” Blake smiled as he looked at the drawing, it was to be his calling card, he would be the Demon.

                Three nights later he snuck out of his house and walked a couple miles to a local park. Both moons were covered in clouds so the area was nearly pitch black. Blake hid in the bushes with a brick in his right hand and a small knife in his other hand.  After a half hour of waiting Blake finally saw a man stumbling through the park, he was clearly drunk or otherwise impaired and Blake knew he’d found a perfect target. He closed his eyes and worked hard to control his breathing before creeping out of the bushes towards the man. The drunk continued his awkward shamble away from Blake without appearing to notice that Blake was closing in on him.

                The brick smashed into the back of the man’s head and sent him sprawling to the ground. Blake stood over him as the man made low groaning noises and moved his arms and legs in uncoordinated spasms. The knife was sharp and Blake was amazed how easy it dug into the man’s neck. A quick draw of the blade made blood pool all around the man’s head as his body went limp. Blake started to run and then stopped and remembered to throw his paper with the demon drawing near the body before he fled the park.

                The terror of that night made sleep impossible. He was positive somebody had seen him and that at any moment the police would show up and arrest him, the sun’s arrival brought with it a fitful sleep that was short lived. A couple hours later his father barged into his room screaming. “Why are you still asleep you lazy shit?” he barked at his son. Blake tried to protest but was met with a punch to his gut.

                Blake gasped and tried to get his breath when he was struck again, this time in the face by a backhand. He crashed out of his bed, hitting the floor hard he scrambled to his feet and fled the house. “Get the fuck out of the house! Do something you lazy scum!” his father screamed at him as he ran.

                As he ran outside Blake started to hyperventilate and cry. He hated his father he wished he’d killed him instead of killing that stranger. Blake touched his forehead and noticed he was bleeding from his eyebrow. He then looked down and saw blood on the left sleeve of his shirt. His heart jumped in his chest as he saw the blood of the man he had killed on his clothes. He had to cover up the blood and so he picked at the cut in his forehead and ripped it open even worse than it was before and let it cover his shirt. Once his shirt was good and bloody he made his way to the local hospital where a nurse stitched him up.

                The nurse knew his father beat him, she’d seen Blake shirtless before plenty of times and knew of the scars all over his body, but they both played along with the lie that Blake had just suffered a fall of his own accord and that’s all it was. Normally Blake would seethe with rage at the nurse’s apathy , how she could allow his father to do what he did, but today it served him well that she not ask questions about why a young boy was covered in blood the morning after a man had been murdered.

                Blake suffered his beatings at home and waited for a good night to make his second kill. The park was to open and he figured he’d been very lucky to have not been seen when he’d killed his first victim. He spent his days scouting out more concealed locations and found a nice alleyway near a street with small amount of foot traffic. That night he placed a small trail of half crownmark coins along the ground leading into the alley as a trap to lure a victim in. It didn’t take long for a man to find the first one and then move on to the second and third.

                The rock hit the back of the man’s head with a sickening thud. Blake brought it down a second time and then a third. When he paused for a moment to use his knife to finish the man off he noticed the massive pool of blood around the man’s head and that his body was completely motionless. Blake was amazed at how quickly he’d killed the man and how easy it had been to kill him. He took the demon drawing and put it inside the man’s shirt so the police would be sure to find it. He snuck out of the alley and made his way home and slept a peaceful night’s sleep.

                It excited him to read in the papers about the two murders he’d committed and how police were looking for leads in the case. He wondered about the nurse who had stitched his cut but he dismissed her as a thread. She never was concerned about him before so there was no reason to think she’d be concerned with him now. Blake never felt as happy as he did mapping out the murder of his father.

                Finally the night had come. The end of the workweek meant his father would hit a local bar known as Frankie’s and get drunk before coming home. Both Blake and his mother had learned to be asleep before he got home on these nights or else a vicious beating was in store for them. Blake waited across the street with his knife and a new large rock in hand. He’d spent the past few days scouring the streets for the perfect rock to cave his father’s head in and now he was going to put that rock to good use.

                Blake fumed as the bar closed and his father filed out with the rest of the drunks who wouldn’t leave till the owner of the place kicked them out. Blake pocketed the knife and hid the rock in the crook of his arm as he carefully followed his father from a distance. As he got close he couldn’t help himself, he broke into a run as he clutched the rock and then finally he swung at his father.

                The blow was a glancing one both of them fell to the ground. Blake had put himself badly off balance with the swing and his father landed on his hands and knees and rolled to his side. Blake rushed back to his feet to land another shot when he heard a voice call out “What are you doing?” a man shouted from across the street and started rushing towards Blake. Blake didn’t know how to react so he just charged the man. His charge caught the man off guard and Blake’s knife was driven into the man’s chest. Blake pulled the blade out and then ran it through the man’s throat. He watched as the color drained from the man’s face and then he crumpled to the ground. Blake turned and saw his father getting to his feet.

                Their eyes locked. Blake saw the rage in his father’s eyes, but he also saw fear. Blake reminded himself that his father was drunk and that it would be easy to kill him yet the years of beatings and abuse had conditioned him to submit to give into his father’s will. Blake let out a primal scream and charged at his father. His father charged at him and when the two met this time the rock hit home. Blake drove the rock right into his father’s face, shattering his nose and sending blood flying everywhere. Blake knelt over him and drove the rock down upon him again and again, the final time giving a sickening squishing noise as his father’s head had been completely shattered. Blake stood up and threw the paper with the drawing on his father and then he heard voices.

                The voices were coming for him and he ran. He ran down alleyways and the voices kept coming, he climbed fences and ducked into people’s yards and the voices vanished for a while but they kept coming back. He wondered if he should flee to his house or not, but then he figured he had nowhere else to go. The last three blocks had been quiet with no sign of anyone noticing him but he knew the killing of his father had gone wrong and he was sure he’d be caught.

                He opened the window to his room from the outside and snuck in, as soon as he got inside he room he felt how tight to his chest his shirt felt. He knew his clothes were caked in blood. He stripped naked and stuck all his clothes under his bed. He threw on a new pair of underwear and jumped into bed and laid there staring at the ceiling. Then came the knock on the door.

                He heard his mother answer the door and the police talking to her. He heard her scream in horror as they told her that her husband was dead. He listened to her wails of anguish and seethed with rage. How could she feel bad for the monster that beat us? How could she feel sadness from finally having him rid from her life? He waited for the cops to enter his room, to arrest him for killing his father. He heard the policeman talking to his mother in a quieter tone, he couldn’t make out the words but he knew it wasn’t a good thing. The policeman’s strides towards his door felt like thunderclaps in his ears and he heard the man’s hand on his doorknob. “Wait.” He heard his mom cry out. “Let him have one final night of rest before I have to tell him his father’s gone.” She said before going back to her sobbing. The man’s hand left the doorknob and the police filed out of the house.

                The next morning Blake woke up and looked in the mirror. His blonde hair had whitened a great deal over night and he swore that his eyes were now a much paler shade of blue than they had been before. He knew he was tall for a boy of fifteen but he hoped he’d grow even bigger, he wanted to be a strong imposing presence on the battle field and he wanted a body that would make killing even easier.

                He opened the door to his bedroom and saw his mom in the kitchen crying. “I heard them momma. I heard them say daddy is dead.” He told her as he started sobbing and ran to her. They hugged and cried and he fought to bring up tears as best he could to show her he was really sad about his father’s passing. The next two days were mostly him hiding his room, sitting on his bed on top of the bloody pile of clothes that would convict him. His mother barged in at all hours of the day to talk to him, to cry with him and for the two of them to comfort each other. He just wished she’d give him the time he needed to dump his clothes.

                Finally on the third day she was called away for funeral planning and he was able to bag the clothes and throw them into the ocean in an isolated cove that teenagers used to get drunk and have sex at. As he watched the tide drag the satchel away he felt a great weight off his shoulders, but then it was replaced by another weight. He would have to keep killing to cover up the fact that his father was the last murder. If he stopped now the police would think there was something special about his dad and might figure things out. He really didn’t want to have to risk killing another person but now he felt like he had no choice.

                Then the newspaper arrived three days later, the demon had struck again. Blake couldn’t believe it somebody else had copied his style of murder and had killed another person only a few miles away. The murders continued for months until finally the demon was shot to death by police after his eleventh murder. Finally Sutton’s Pyre could rest easy with the killer put to rest.

                A year after he had killed his father Blake went to his gravesite to place flowers. “Hey dad, you fucking prick. Been a year since I murdered you.” Blake said with a sneer. “Like my clothes?” he asked as he looked down at his nicely tailored black suit jacket “My new dad bought them for me. He’s a rich piece of shit that one. He and I don’t talk much, thinks he can just buy me off with gifts and money. I hate him. Not as much as I hated you, but he’s still a piece of shit. Just a piggy bank on legs as far as I can tell.”

                Blake knelt before his father’s grave. “Sad thing is I hate mom most of all. Dumb bitch never did a fucking thing to protect herself. After I killed you oh how she wept. I thought they were gonna commit the dumb bitch she kept carrying on weeping and blubbering. For what? Why she fucking crying? Cause you couldn’t scar her back with your fucking belt again? Cause you wouldn’t be there to beat the shit out of her? Then she meets this rich asshole and now she’s happy as can be. Why she happy dad? Tell me why she’s happy. She’s happy cause I fucking killed you. I did all the hard work, I fucking murdered you to get myself free of you and now she’s got a new husband who’ll never hurt her and gives her everything she wants.” Blake started crying.

                “It’s not fucking fair. I did it. I did everything and what do I get? Some crownmarks every now and then? Some trinket or toy and a pat on the head? He done knocked her up to. I’m gonna have a little brother or sister soon enough, ain’t that fucking great, even more of an excuse to ignore me. Why are they so fucking happy and I don’t get shit? Fuck this world man. Fuck you dad. Fuck you.”

                Blake fought to control his breathing as he stared down at the grave. “I’ll still show them all. We all know the war’s coming, those God fearing fools are coming closer to our boarder and we’re moving towards them. It’s not going to be long now, maybe a few years, maybe quicker than that, but its coming. I can’t wait for it. I’m good at killing, I proved that with you didn’t I? Fucked you up right good.  When that war comes I’m going to kill ever y last one of them God loving fucks I can get my hands on. Well not really.”

                He pulled back the suit jacket to shot a pearl handled revolver in a holster on his hip. “Dad didn’t get me this. I saved up my money and I bought it at the pawn shop. I’ve been practicing out at the cove where I dumped the evidence I killed you. I’m a real good shot. I’m going make every bullet count. One day the king himself is going to put a medal around my neck and declare me a Hero of the Kingdom, and they’ll all cheer for me. They will cheer for Blake Evans.”

                Blake stopped talking for a moment. “That’s right. I took my new dad’s last name. Think I’d fucking keep any trace of you in my life? No fucking way. I will tell you what I am gonna do dad. After I get that medal I’ll tell everyone I did it to honor you. I’ll come to this grave and I’ll kneel here, like this.” He said as he knelt beside the head stone. “Then I’m going to put my head right up against the stone and start sobbing.” He put his head on hard granite stone. “They’ll think I’m weeping over my poor dead dad, killed by the Demon of Sutton’s Pyre, but they’ll really be tears of joy cause I’m so glad I killed you. I’ll see you soon.” Blake said as he got back to his feet. The Demon of Sutton’s Pyre left the graveyard with dreams of carnage and glory in his head. 

War Backstory: The Honorable Mayor Blackwell

    Pete had just gotten off the boat when he saw Freddie running towards him. “Pete! Pete! You have to help! Bill the Bartender is gonna shoot James if somebody doesn’t talk him out of it!”

                Pete turned to his sons “Get the fish into storage. I got another fire to put out.” He said as he rushed after Freddie and got to the bar. “Stay out here Freddie. I don’t want you getting shot if Bill takes complete leave of his senses.”  Freddie gave a quick nod and Pete turned and walked into the bar.

                He threw the swinging doors open and allowed his massive frame to take up the doorway. Pete knew his size was one of his great advantages in dealing with people, standing well over six foot tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest made him the biggest man in most every room he walked into. Age had taken away some of his strength and put some white into his raven black hair, but he still was very confident of his chances in a fight. The room went silent as he walked towards the bar where Bill had his gun in hand. “You are not shooting anyone Bill.” Pete said.

                “This piece of shit hasn’t paid his tab for over two weeks. He hid in the back of the joint and waited till he could flag down one of my waitresses and conned her into opening a new tab and getting himself a free mug of booze.” Bill’s voice was whiny and pleading, he punched the bar in frustration to really drive home his outrage.

                “And for the crime of scamming you out of a beer you’re going to kill a man? Really Bill, that seems like a good idea to you?” Pete responded to him.

                “Fucking bullshit this is. The sheriff in this town is a drunk who couldn’t give to shits if anyone here gets killed. The absentee King sends us all too all corners of the world just to take some land so those fucking God worshipping lunatics don’t get to it first and now here I am having to justify and defend myself to a fucking fishmonger. This world has lost its fucking mind.”

                Pete could hear people murmur in shock at Bill’s disrespect. “He’s fucking with the mayor, nothing good can come of that.” One voice muttered in the background. Pete smiled at Bill he knew the expression on his face was intimidating. He held his stare on Bill for a few moments before walking right up to the bar beside him and placed his hands on the bar, allowing himself to tower over Bill.

                Standing nearly a foot taller than the bartender Pete bent his head forward to stare down at him. Bill shuddered and then slowly attempted to lift his gun towards Pete. Pete grabbed the gun and ripped it out of his hands. “Did you seriously just try to point a gun at me? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Pete bellowed at him.

                “Fuck Pete. Come on man, people ripping me off and now I got you getting in my face. Fuck am I supposed to do? No fucking way to run a business in these lawless parts. I ain’t heard anyone try to stick up for me or tell me how I’m supposed to get restitution for my losses.” Bill blubbered. The man seemed on the verge of tears as he spoke.

                “How much does he owe you?”  Pete asked him.

                “Forty crownsmarks not counting the drink he stole tonight. So forty six.” Bill told him.

                Pete reached into his pocket and put down two hundred crownsmark bills. “There he’s covered and I’m buying a round for everyone in here.” Pete turned from the bar and looked at the crowd, pausing for a beat before finally shouting. “Hear that everyone? This round is on me!” The bar responded with cheers and celebration to Pete’s decree.

                Pete looked through the crowd that was rushing to the bar for their free drinks and found James. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked him as he grabbed James by the shoulder.

                “Getting my free drink. You just said this round was on you.” James told him, his eyes glassy and his breath stinking of alcohol.

               

                “That’s for everyone else, you’re leaving Bill’s bar and you’re never coming back. You ever set foot in this bar again and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.” Pete said as he put a firm grip on James shoulder.

                “Fuck you man! I didn’t need you to talk old Bill down from shooting me, he was never gonna shoot me anyway. Now you’re gonna tell me where I can and can’t drink, fuck that shit! I’m an adult and I can do as I fucking please!” James said, his mouth spraying Pete with spit as he spoke.

                “Folks around here call me the mayor because I take care of problems. I take care of problems because I’m a man of my word. Bill didn’t shoot you and I paid your debt for you, it is only reasonable that you do me a favor and quit visiting this establishment.” Pete told him.

                “Fuck you mister fake mayor.” James told him as he pulled Pete’s hand off his shoulder and threw his hands up to challenge Pete to a fight. “You don’t scare me old man! You’re nothing but talk!”

                Pete made a great show of placing his hands behind his back and sticking out his chin. “I’ll let you take the first swing, but I want you to think about this really hard because if you do swing at me, we fight until I feel you’ve had enough and with the amount of disrespect you’ve shown me I’m telling you right now that if the folks in this bar don’t pull me off you that you might not survive what’s coming to you” Pete told him.

                James hands trembled as he stood in front of Pete. His chest started to heave as he began take deep breaths and his face got even redder than it was already. He made a horrible noise that sounded like a mix between a whimper and a scream as he wound up and threw a looping hook towards Pete’s chin. Pete caught James hand in mid-air. “You have five seconds to get out of this bar or this gets real bad for you.” Pete told him. “Five.” He counted down. “Four.” James yelped and ripped his hand out of Pete’s grip and stared at him pleadingly “Three.” Pete continued.

                “Don’t. Please.” James said.

                “Two.” Pete continued. James turned and ran for the door. “One!” Pete shouted at him as he ran through the swinging doors and into the street. The crowd began laughing and cheering once again as the customers went back to ordering their free drinks from Bill. Shouts about the effectiveness of the mayor came from various voices in the crowd.

                Pete gave a nod to Bill and walked from the establishment. The confrontations and problems of the town and his work on the fish boat were a pleasant distraction for him from what awaited him when he got him. He opened the front door and his wife stood before him. Jen leaned hard on her cane to keep herself upright he could see her arm shaking as she fought to stay on her feet.  Her face was sunken and the wrinkles seemed to get worse every day, as if the disease that was killing her was also aging her. Pete hated seeing her like this and rushed to her and gave her a gentle hug. She fell into his arms as he reached for her.

                “Had yourself an issue at the bar.” She asked him, already knowing the answer. He knew she enjoyed his stories and that she knew he enjoyed telling them. He nodded and gave her a brief recap of his handling of the issue at the bar, leaving out the threats to beat the shit out of James since she didn’t care for him threatening violence to fix things.

                “How badly did you threaten James?” She asked him, she knew him so well that he couldn’t bullshit him.

                “I was going to kill him.” Pete told her.

                “Oh Pete. “ She said as she withdrew from his hug. “I supposed a stupid drunk needs the threat of an asskicking to get the point. I just wish people were more reasonable.” She shook her head and then placed a hand on Pete’s chest. “It was bad today the pain really has been getting to me. I’ve been dying for months now and it’s almost over. I’m so sorry Pete. I guess I’m the one problem you can’t fix.”

                She fell back into his arms and they cried for a while. “People die. They always will die. I’ll die one day same as everyone else.” He reached out and ran his fingers through her stringy white hair. “The bravery you show in the face of death is something I hope to have when my day comes.” He told her.

                “I’m not brave. I’m just a realist. I’m sick and this is the end of me. I get to find out if the Believers are right I guess.” She said with a laugh. “That’s what religion is for isn’t it? Comfort people on their way out give them something to hope for other than oblivion?” She closed her eyes and squeezes her hands into Pete’s sides. “Let me tell you, the way I hurt, I more than welcome oblivion.” After a few moments she leaned away from him. “Are you really leaving this place when I’m gone?” she asked him.

                Pete nodded. “I have to go to Midpoint. I have to do what I can to help. It’ll be good for my brother too, get him a fresh start again.” He tried to continue but Jen put a finger to his lips.

                “Two nations that have been planning on killing each other for over a hundred years and Pete Blackwell is going to keep them from tearing at each other’s throats? You must think yourself a pretty remarkable man if you think you can pull that off.”  Jen smiled weakly as she finished.

                “You know the Kingdom is trying to make this fail. It’s why they have sent Thad as the leader of our group. That drunken fool will ruin everything. I bet the Believers will be sandbagging it much the same way.” Pete told her.

                “Pete, the town is named Midpoint for crying out loud.” Jen told him.

                “Well we wanted to call it Explorers Outpost and the Believers wanted to call it Serenity or Tranquility or something friendly sounding, all their town names all sound the same to me unless it’s the name of one of their holy men.” Pete interrupted her to explain the name.

                Jen gave him that look that told him to shut up and he stopped talking. “Midpoint isn’t a town name it’s the name of a military objective. We must secure Nearpoint to be able to launch an attack upon Midpoint and once that is taken we shall reach out and crush enemy resistance at Farpoint! This whole farce is an excuse for both sides to say that they tried to stop the war from coming so they’ll feel better about killing each other when the war does happen.”

                Pete kissed her forehead and held her face in his hands. “You are the smartest woman I’ve ever met, that’s why I married you.” He told her.

                “And my ass. I had an incredible ass when I was younger.” Jen replied and they both laughed.

                “You sure did.” He told her as he kissed her forehead again.

                “Mayor of the White Sands Pete Blackwell, off to become the Mayor of Midpoint. I do hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. Midpoint’s not going to be a town full of drunks and small time hustlers trying to score a few crownsmarks. It’s going to be real serious people who want to get about the business of killing each other. Both sides have raised armies and they’ll be looking for any excuse to use them.” Jen said.

                Pete held her and the two stood in silence for a few moments. “If nobody tries to stop it then the war will come. You said Midpoint was the lie both sides will tell themselves to feel better about what they do when the killing starts. Maybe if it’s an honest effort instead of a lie then the killing will never have to start.”

                “I hope you are right, but I fear nothing can stop it.” She clutched his shoulders and he felt how frail her fingers were. The bags under her grey eyes showed the tiredness in her. “Our sons have bought me a bunch of nice big sheets. When I go please wrap me in them and weigh them down and throw me in the ocean. We’ve made our living feeding people all the various fish of the sea, it’s only right that they get their revenge upon me.”

                They both laughed and then held each other and cried. Four days later Pete gave his wife to the ocean and then made his plans to head to Midpoint to try to prevent the war everyone was sure would happen.

War Backstory: Finding God

Amanda watched as the men in crisp white coats and emerald green pants lined the streets. “Mom he’s really coming! The Divine Patriarch is coming!” she shouted.  Her mother looked down at her with a proud smile.

“Thank you God for this. I never dreamed in my life that I’d see this man come to our community. The papers said he cared for us but I never believed it.” Her mother said, Amanda could tell that her mother was half talking to her and half talking to God.

“Oh he doesn’t give a shit about us even now this is more bullshit to get free press.” Amanda’s father said.

Amanda’s mother had her face twist into a scowl. She was in her early forties but when she got angry you could really see the lines on her face that years of hard living had inflicted upon her. “You. You’ll get this whole family declared unredeemable with talk like that. I half think it’s your lack of belief that got poor Hector killed.” She snapped at her husband. Amanda hated it when Hector was brought up. His name made her heart ache. His horrible death was something she’d never forget. Hector had died two years ago during the Week of Fire. Riots had broken out after the death of the Chosen, the man the Church had declared to be God Incarnate on earth. The young man they gave the title to was a scion of a rich family as the Chosen had been since the founding of Utopia. Tragically that young man died less than three months into his reign as Chosen. Combined with the previous Chosen only living for nine months before dying in a horse riding accident the nation of Utopia had spiraled out of control in the belief God had rejected them.

 Paradise the capital of Utopia and the city Amanda lived in had been in the throes of violence for months and finally it came to a head with hundreds of people being killed each night. The following week the Church promised sweeping changes, not the least of which was the removal of the men who had placed the previous two Chosen into power. The face of those changes was the man walking to the center of a makeshift stage. Vincenzo Elacqua was a tall man, clad in flowing green ropes with white trim. His dark skin was atypical even for his fellow Southern Islanders and his hair was short and curly with white mixed in with the black. Amanda loved his smile and how cheerful his face looked as he stared out at the crowd of cheering townsfolk.

                “Citizens of Paradise. I came here today to make good on a promise I made when the Church declared me to be the Divine Patriarch. That promise was to conduct a fair and open search of the young children of Utopia to try to find the next Chosen. To seek out and truly locate the spirit of God made manifest in a human being.  I have had visions and they showed me this street and you people inside it. Here is where I shall find the next Chosen. One of you here is God Incarnate.”

                Vincenzo paused for a moment and when he did a voice cried out. “Deceiver! Betrayer! Servant of Gent! You seek to break the circle! To judge us all!” the heckler was attacked by the men in white coats and beaten. Amanda shuttered as she watched the man get punched.

                “Don’t be so rough on him!” Vincenzo yelled. “I was told not to come here. That I’d face dangers far worse than a misguided man yelling at me.” He said drawing a laugh from the crowd. “But I cannot be swayed from my vision. I know God is here, God is inside one of you.” As he finished speaking his hand began to sway in front of his face. Amanda watched as his eyes scanned the crowd. “That young boy with the blonde hair in the all green outfit, bring him up here.” Vincenzo said and his guards moved into action finding the boy and bringing him to the stage. Amanda thought the boy a few years younger than herself and he seemed scared as he got onto the stage with the Divine Patriarch. The crowd tried to quiet to hear the whispers Vincenzo gave to the boy before motioning him to a group of chairs on the other side of the stage.

                This process continued as the Divine Patriarch would describe a child to his men and his men would get the child up to the stage. Amanda so hoped her brother Pablo would be called up to the stage. She admired him as being smart and pious he was the one who spent nights reading both the White Book and the Green Book to her.  “That beautiful girl. The one with the flowing black hair and the white dress, bring her up here.” Vincenzo told his guards and the crowd gasped, some jeered. Amanda had no idea that the Divine Patriarch was speaking about her till a guard reached his hand out to her.

                “Come with me to the stage.” The guard said as he looked at her. Amanda’s throat tightened, she couldn’t believe that this was even possible.  She worried that she’d done something wrong and had somehow offended the Divine Patriarch. Was it her dress? Should she have worn green? She nervously placed her hand in the guard’s hand and was led to the stage. She could hear the catcalls and outrage of some of the crowd as she walked up to the Divine Patriarch.

                Vincenzo placed his hands on her face, his hands felt softer than she expected. He knelt so that he was at eye level with her. “I see God in you my child.” He said with a grin that made her relax and feel at peace with what was happening.

                Amanda sat in one of the chairs with the other kids. “Why are you here? You’re a girl!” one of the boys shouted at her. It was the blonde boy who was first to be selected.

                “He picked me, same as you.” Amanda said.

                “Well it’s still wrong. No woman could ever be the Chosen. God isn’t a woman.” The boy sneered at her.

                Another boy and then another came up on the stage. Amanda could still hear some in the crowd insulting her and being disgusted at her being on the stage. She ignored them as best she could and she scanned the crowd. After a few moments she found her mother and father looking back at her, her mother practically being held up by her father. Her mother’s body shaking with sobs as she buried her face in her husband’s chest. Amanda felt so proud that she could make her mom so happy. Pablo waved to her and she waved back and then stopped wondering if waving wasn’t very Godlike or not. The Divine Patriarch had said he’d seen God in her and if he said it then maybe it was true and she really was the Chosen.

                “Please my friends can we have some cheers for these beautiful children who represent our great capital and our wonderful nation?” A loud wave of cheering came from the crowd yet Amanda could still hear people demanding she be removed from the stage. “Now my friends, I would like to bring these children over to me to have each of them talk to me about their favorite parables from the White Book.” Vincenzo gestured to the blonde boy behind Amanda and the boy walked over to him.

                Amanda watched as the two of them talked quietly, the crowd went silent as the stranded to hear the conversation.  She wondered which of the two parables she’d talk to the Divine Patriarch about. Hector’s favorite was the brave solider it was the one she and Pablo had read whenever they thought about him. Her favorite was the beaten runner because she loved the message of serving God no matter what. The blonde boy walked back to his seat and then the next child was called and then another.

                “Now I’ve heard many of you shouting your disproval with this wonderful young girl up here.” Vincenzo told the crowd. Jeers and catcalls were the response of some but the majority of the crowd tried to drown them out with cheers. “Young lady, please come here and talk to me.” The Divine Patriarch told Amanda and she walked to him. “What parable would you like to talk about?” he asked her.

                “I’d like to talk about the beaten runner.” Amanda replied, her voice as loud as she could make it since she wanted the crowd to hear what she was saying. “It is the story of the man who tries as best he can but he loses the race to another runner. He asks God why he was defeated when he’d dedicated his all his training and all his hard work to the service of God. Then an old man who was watching the race comes to him and consoles him. The runner begs the old man to help him understand why he was denied victory and the old man tells him that God does not reward one man with victory while all others are shamed with defeat. God does not play favorites when people enter into competition God merely watches us compete and is made proud by us giving our all in His name. I love this parable because it reminds me that God loves me even when I falter and fail, that God will always support me and watch over me as long as I try my best and do I call to honor Him. Nothing will ever allow me to stray from Him and to Him I pledge my life in service.” Amanda finished speaking and could feel tears pouring down her cheeks as she did. Vincenzo pulled her close and hugged her and she could hear much of the crowd cheering.

                “Blasphemer! Servant of Gent! Breaker of the Circle! Die! A voice shouted and Amanda heard what sounded like fire crackers. People started screaming and then she realized that somebody was shooting at the stage. One of the guards on the stage was sprawled out on his side, blood staining his white coat. Amanda dropped to her knees as she kept hearing more gunshots coming from all directions the panic made it hard for her to breath. She begged God to stop the violence, to make the people stop shooting.

                Then she was floating, she didn’t remember landing or how she ended up on her back. The world was now silent to her and everything was moving in slow motion it seemed. As she sat up she saw the Divine Patriarch laying on his back, three of the other children were also on the ground, and a guard near-by with his arm hanging limp from his side, as if he was about to fall off at any moment. In the middle of the five of them was a grenade laying on the stage.

                Amanda remembered the night Hector died, that grenade had been thrown into the house, she remembered the glass of their window breaking, her mother and father screaming out for Hector not to go towards it, but he didn’t listen, he’d tried to grab it and throw it back out of the house. He’d tried to save his family and died in the attempt. Mother had never let Amanda see Hector’s body, she kept everyone out of the room and father wrapped up Hector’s body as best he could. Hector died trying to save them. Amanda always remembered the smell of the room, of charred meat and gunpowder and it sickened her. She could smell it in the air now.

                She decided she would die then and there, to do as Hector had done before her and save others and the expense of her life. To die in the service of others is the greatest tribute to God one can make she reminded herself as she rushed to the grenade and threw herself on top of it. She waited for her life to end, to enter into the circle and be reborn, she hoped Hector would be in her new family and that they could live their new lives together.

                She lay on top of the grenade for some time without anything happening, she had accepted death but waiting to die was pure agony. “Child!” a voice cried “Child!” it cried again and she looked up and saw the Divine Patriarch sitting up looking at her, he had managed to get across the stage. “Come to me! Run!” he shouted. Amanda listened and ran to him. He pulled her down and held her close to him. “Guard! Throw that thing as far away from the Peabody as you can!”

                The closest guard took a deep breath and slowly crept upon the grenade and then grabbed it and threw it behind the stage away from the gathered crowd. It landed and then bounced before landing again. On impact the grenade exploded in the middle of the street, it’s shrapnel harmlessly bouncing off the walls of the buildings nearby.

                “Miracle!” one voice in the crowd cried out, and then another, then a chorus of them. “Sign from God!” “Ellaroth’s blessing!” and other shouts came from all parts of the crowd. Amanda looked into the crowd and saw them staring at her with worshipful gazes.

                “Tend to the injured” The Divine Patriarch called out to the crowd. “Even those who tried to kill me were our brothers no matter how misguided they were.” While some did heed his words too many in the crowd were still awestruck by the bravery of the little girl on the stage.

                It started as a rumble at first, only a few voices but then it grew louder and louder “Chosen! Chosen!” the mob shouted. The same crowd that had hissed and sneered at her only moments before now decreed Amanda to be God Incarnate. Amanda’s jaw dropped she felt numb inside as she tried to process what the crowd was saying. She turned towards the other kids on the stage a few of them had small wounds on their arms and legs from the first grenade that had gone off. The blonde child who had mocked her before now looked at her.

                “You are the Chosen.” He said his eyes red and tears streaming down his cheeks. “Forgive me for doubting you God. I’m so sorry, please don’t condemn me!” he said as he fell to her knees at her feet. Amanda turned and looked to the Divine Patriarch who was now standing behind her. She could tell by the look on his face that he was as startled and confused as she was by what was happening.

                The crowd’s chanting continued, Amanda continued to look at the Divine Patriarch. She felt something she had never felt before in her life. In this moment she had seized all the power in from the Divine Patriarch. If she desired it she could declare herself God and if he objected the mob would tear him to pieces. Her fear and nerves melted away and now her gaze upon Vincenzo was one of a leader looking at her subject and demanding him to answer her request.

                She could see the Divine Patriarch breathing hard, the moment was overwhelming him, and finally he looked to her and said. “What is your name, your full name my child?”

                “Amanda Panadero.” She told him. For the first time in what felt like ages she turned her head towards the crowd and they roared in approval.

               

The Divine Patriarch gestured for the crowd to quiet. “You cannot deny her!” one voice cried out before finally the crowd went silent.

“What we have seen today. This incredible act of selflessness and bravery by a young woman who risked her life to save me and so many others on this stage.” He paused as if overcome or unable to say what he needed to say. The crowd grew restless again with catcalls and shouts. Vincenzo spoke over them. “You all know what I say is the truth. This young lady, Amanda Panadero is the Ninth Incarnation of God on Earth. She is the Chosen!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and celebration. Her name echoed through the street as the people kept shouting. Amanda looked towards the heavens and hoped that Hector had been reborn and that she could meet him again someday and that he’d know that the example he’d set when he had given his life was what had turned his sister into God. The Divine Patriarch put his hand on her shoulder and she looked up towards him. “This is a troubled time, I fear the burden that will be placed upon you but I promise I shall do all I can to help.” He told her. The worry on his face troubled her greatly, but she turned away from him to look back at the cheering crowd and to let their cheer lift her spirits. She was God now and could afford to celebrate this day. The problems of Utopia and the world would have to wait for God to deal with them tomorrow.