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by
They say that Mother Earth is breathing with each wave that finds the shore
An ancient castle stands upon a cliff. The waves pound against the land mirroring the fury of the people above them as a battle rages.
Her soul rises in the evening for to open twilight's door
Night slowly falls. A fog creeps across the land and the attackers pull back, leaving the walls battered, and barely standing.
Her eyes are the stars in heaven Watching o're us all the while
Stars shine, but are not visible to the defenders. The fog cuts them off from the rest of the world. Almost like time is holding its breath.
And her heart it is in Ireland Deep within the emerald isle.
A single man watches the enemy's campfires. Ares, former God of War, wearing chain mail and a long sword, stares out at the enemy and turns away. He has more important things to do than spy on his killers.
We are forty against hundreds
The dark eyed man slowly counts off the survivors. Only forty left and more than few hundred enemy. Though the castle is of vital strategic importance, they will not be able to hold out for reinforcements. He curses the loss of his Godhood.
In someone else's bloody war
As he passes men and women, he cannot help but be amazed at the diversity of the fighters. Shipwreck victims, mercenaries, and others. Asian, black, white, and some he doesn't recognize. All brought together to fight a war that had nothing to do with them.
We know not why we're fighting
Pausing to close the eyes of a dead ally, the warrior wonders what the whole fight is about. How could so many people be fooled by Dahak's lies? Thousands upon thousands turned against their former Gods and heroes, killing those they could, drenching the ground with blood.
Or what we're dying for
Such a useless reason to die; for hatred and power. The once God has seen too many innocents die trying to stop the Dark God. Shaking his head, Ares moves on, looking for one particular warrior.
They will storm us in the morning
Two men, a sly looking brunette and a fat man with gaudy clothes, whisper about the coming attack. Slipping into the shadows, the tired warrior listens. He agrees with all said. The enemy no longer needs to fight from dawn to dawn. The walls will fall with the next charge and so will the defenders. They can afford to rest, letting the doomed make peace with their remaining Deities.
When the sunlight turns the sky
The poet in Ares finds it ironic that the beginning of new day shall signal the end of days for his friends. Autolycus, the brunette, bids Salmoneous, the gaudy one, good night. The two men tiredly move to find their loved-ones; it may be the last chance any of them have to say all the things left unsaid.
Death is waiting for its dance now
Ares steps out of the shadows. He wonders if there is enough time to say all he meant, to express what he truly feels. Dark shapes seem to dance in the torchlight. A sudden premonition strikes the fighter. Death will take him last, dancing the others to their ends before leading him in the final waltz of blood.
Fate has sentenced us to die
Shrugging off the feeling, he continues on his way. Yet wherever he looks, the new mortal sees people who will be dead before the setting of another sun and he cannot help but wonder if it will be welcomed by some. Jason for all his strength will join his dead wife, Alcemne; Cupid will stand by Aphrodite until they both fall; Iolaus, more a zombie than a fighter since the death of his lovers Hercules and Nebula, may simply wait for the enemy to strike him down; Xena and Gabrielle will fight to the last, but there is little strength left in them. The list continues in his mind as tears gather in his eyes. These people were his family. They worked together to try and stop Dahak, yet failed. Now they stood in the monster's path, bleeding and dying as one. Brushing aside the emotions and evidence of them, Ares again searches for the one person he needs to see.
Ireland I am coming home
Joxer once told them all about this mythical country. With its beauty and mystery. The gentle man promised to take them all there when the war was won. It is a promise he will never keep.
I can see your rolling fields of green and fences made of stone
Images of the beauty and peace his lover spoke of kept many of them going when hope failed. Now, Ares wishes there was a way for them to all go there. The beauty of fertile land would have been a nice change from the blood soaked ground they were used to.
I am reaching out, won't you take my hand?
He wonders if the people there could welcome the former fighters. Would the blood of battle stain them so badly they'd forever be outcasts? Joxer seemed to think everyone would be happy, but then he always saw the best in people.
I am coming home Ireland
A part of Ares holds the dream of peace and slow days with his love. All the warriors do. A piece of the many souls trapped in the violence have seized the dream and yearn to be in a place with no death, blood stained lands, or the stench of rotting flesh. All of them want to go home.
Oh the Captain, he lay bleeding
An old woman with white hair runs to Ares. Part of the fighter's mind identifies the runner as the Widow Twanky, a determined, strong willed ally. The woman, out of breath, cannot deliver her message and so just grabs the tall man's arm, dragging him toward the main campfire. On a pile of blankets lay Zeus, commander of the castle, cradled by his wife, Hera. Terrible wounds along the former King of the Gods' chest and sides bleed out his life, no amount of bandaging can staunch the flow. A young healer finishes tying off what is left of Hera's left arm as her son arrives. The blank expression in the tear filled eyes of the his mother tells Ares losing her arm hurts less than losing the man she loves. The two made peace at last.
And I can hear him calling me
Despite the pain he must be in, Zeus keeps calling out for Ares. The fighter moves into the firelight and realizes a sword slash has taken his father's eyes. Kneeling carefully, he takes the strangely frail looking man's hand.
"I am here, Sir," he whispers.
These men are yours now for the leading
Zeus turns command over to Ares. Hera has never been a leader, but the people believe in the experienced fighter. Only he can keep them whole now.
Show them to their destiny
The dying former king gives this one last instruction and then his breath stops. Hera clutches the body to her, silent tears washing paths through the crimson on her cheeks. Determined eyes harden as a new mission is given him.
And as I looked up all around me
Looking around, he takes stock of those he will be leading. A laugh wells up in him as realizes he is their last hope. He, who has tried to kill most of them at one time or another.
I see the ragged, tired, and torn.
Everywhere, Ares sees people pushed beyond their limits, still forcing themselves to continue. His eyes rest on Joxer. The younger man is helping Morrigan wrap bandages around her chest. A wound along her ribs has ended her life; the fiery-haired woman is too stubborn to admit it though. She came to visit Hercules and ended up trapped by Dahak's evil. Xena and Gabrielle stare at their new leader with exhaustion-hazed eyes. The irony of the situation is not lost on the Warrior Princess. The others tiredly move closer to the man who will decide how they face death.
I tell them to make ready
Ares stands suddenly, decision made. He orders everyone to finish tending their wounds and then get ready. Chain mail is all anyone is allowed to wear, however. They have one hour.
Cuz we're not waiting for the morn
Most look at him as if he's lost his mind; slowly, comprehension fills the gathered faces. The enemy is about to pay for counting them out so easily. The assembled fighters go to their tasks with renewed energy. Life seems to have joined Death's Dance.
Ireland I am coming home
As the others set to work, Joxer leaves the Demi-Goddess and pulls Ares into an embrace. Speaking softly, the calm man tells him what they will do when they get home to Ireland.
I can see your rolling fields of green and fences made of stone
Once more, images of his lover's homeland fill a tired mind and heart. The deadly warrior closes his eyes and surrenders to the peaceful moment.
I am reaching out, won't you take my hand?
In the vision, all those he fought with are standing in a field of endless green. They wave for him to come join them. Just as he is about to take Zeus' hand, someone shakes him awake. It is time.
I am coming home Ireland
Ares looks around at the gathered defenders. Somehow, he knows this is not the end. They are not going to their deaths. They are going home.
Now the fog is deep and heavy
Everyone sneaks out to the castle, the fog hiding the movement. It is so thick they can hardly see anything.
As we forge the dark and fear
Slowly, as one, the fighters move forward. Hearts beat incredibly fast as each is faced with impending death and fear threatens to overwhelm previous convictions. More than one bites through their lips as they stifle cries of pain brought on by wounds earned earlier. Yet, as one, they move ever forward.
We can hear their horses breathing
Sound carries in the fog. As the enemy's camp becomes closer, they can hear horses breathing, snores, and the clang of metal as men move around. The noise is deafening in the quiet.
As in silence we draw near
No sound is made by the approaching silent shadows. The camp will have no warning.
And there are no words to be spoken
Finally, the group reaches the edge of the camp. For several moments they wait, spreading out along its edges. As the fog shifts, everyone looks to their fellows. The end is here.
Just a look to say goodbye
In one moment, time is frozen and they share a silent farewell. Something more than any words could ever express passes through the doomed group as regrets fade, resolve hardens, and true peace is found.
I draw a breath and night is broken as I scream our battle cry
Sensing the time is at last right, Ares unleashes everything in one resounding word and the defenders fall on the sleep slowed soldiers.
Ireland I am coming home
Area reaches the center of the camp first. His sword swings in a deadly arch, killing any who dare challenge the determined man. For a second, he pauses in his deadly battle. The feeling of homecoming is growing.
I can see your rolling fields of green and fences made of stone
In the distance, at the very edge of the enemy tents, seems to be a green field. Area shakes his head. It looks like all the dead are standing on the green grass or leaning against a stone fence, beckoning for him to join them. Suddenly, Xena and Gabrielle appear in the back of the group. Swinging to check on his comrades, he finds the women dead, a spear thrust through the two as they stood back-to-back.
I am reaching out, won't you take my hand?
Joxer is now at the forefront of the group, reaching for his beloved pleadingly. The tired fighter cannot stop, however. He makes himself fight on even as, one-by-one, each of his allies joins his love in the peaceful setting. Finally, the fierce fighter is the last. The soldiers close in knowing the prey has nowhere to go, and Joxer once again calls to Ares.
I am coming home Ireland
In the distance, a horn echoes across the killing ground; the reinforcements have arrived too late. In one last act of spite and anger, the enemy falls on Ares, burying him in a hail of metal and blood. As troops stream into the camp, the killers scatter leaving a ravaged body behind. Unnoticed by his would-be saviors, Ares reaches out his hand, agony etched in every line of his face.
Yes, I am home Ireland
Joxer grasps his hand and the pain is gone. The ancient fighter finds himself with no wounds, surrounded by friends and family, and in the most beautiful place he has ever seen.
"We're home, Ares." Joxer tells him before seizing his mouth in a passionate kiss. Around them, the others celebrate their homecoming.
For hundreds of years, the Legend of the Forty was retold again and again. A few brave souls chose to live the last moments they had left and in doing so gave the back-up troops time to reach the castle. They changed the course of history and inspired generations to come. Through their actions, Dahak was delayed and his enemies had time to regroup. Eventually, his weakness was found and the Dark God destroyed forever.
Courage, Perseverance, and Friendship became the new governments' motto and the populace made sure the noble sacrifice was never forgotten or in vain.
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