The War of All Wars

by J. Eric Booker

  Two other identical creatures stood on the battlefield, although one was green and black and four hundred miles away to the northwest, while the other was yellow and black and to the northeast six hundred miles away.

  Unexpectedly, the mountain under Baltor’s feet, as well across much of the battlefield began to shake violently by a great earthquake—countless boulders and rocks of all sizes rolled to the bottom of those mountains that border-lined the fields! He dropped to the prone position, lying on his belly.

  Nearly fifteen seconds after the earthquake had begun, a gargantuan-times-gargantuan gray worm most unexpectedly blasted out of the ground near the very middle of the battlefield—an equal-sized wormhole now existed in the ground.

  The worm’s one hundred-foot wide mouth contained hundreds of thousands of razor-sharp black teeth that repetitiously opened and closed in the blink of an eye, all the while making squealing noises that sounded like a herd of frightened pigs and eating tons of dirt and/or souls—no demons-or-above!

  It turned out to be ten thousand feet long and even had tens of thousands of tiny, fluttering wings all over its body—wings that had allowed it to not only propel its way through the earth, yet fly through the air.

  Still another minute or so passed as the worm continued to fly around and feast, before deciding to create another wormhole and fifteen-second earthquake by slamming into the ground headfirst! Never had the souls or the demons stopped in their battling, not even for a single second.

  Disrupting Baltor’s observations and thoughts—in which he was amazed, shocked and horrified all at the same time but not frightened one iota—he heard Nemis’ voice say inside his head, You will become visible in thirty seconds—mark!

  In the next moment, he bolted his way down to the base of the mountain and made it to a hiding spot just as he became visible. It was then that his mind heard her ask, Where are you?

  Hiding in those boulders you pointed out earlier.

  Hold on. I’m on the way.

  Once she had arrived only moments later, he said reluctantly, You should know…I don’t think that using the tunnels is such a good idea anymore.

  Why not? Instead of answering that question, Baltor, listen…we have to go north. Traveling through—or over—that battlefield is not an option. I could only look out there for about a minute before my mind started to go insane from seeing and hearing at all that horror, in which I will probably have nightmares for years to come. Why—what did you see that changed your mind?

  After physically laughing but in a non-amused fashion, Baltor answered, Well, what I saw, which I’m pretty certain you did not, was the thing that caused those two earthquakes. A ten-thousand-foot long worm blasted its way out of, and back into, the ground!

  A multitude of negative thoughts and facial expressions crossed her face—the single word that came out of her mouth was, “Really?”

  After a single nod with a tight-lipped smile, he answered, Really. Let me tell you a bit more info about this worm. It had a one hundred-foot, ear-to-ear smile filled with hundreds of thousands of sharp teeth inside a mouth that never stopped squealing and never stopped eating souls or dirt. Oh, and it had little wings spread all over its body that allowed it to fly through the skies…but no eyes.

  Wow.

  So far, it’s been nearly two minutes since you broke me out of my trance, in which this creature had departed shortly before that. Now, I don’t know how often this creature needs to feed—once a day, week, month, longer, or perhaps once every hour—but I think it might be best that we keep hidden here and find out. Sound like a plan?

  She nodded her head in agreement, she replied, Sounds like a plan to me.

  With a thumbs-up sign, Baltor added, In the meantime, we have to consider an alternate route, in case this worm eats weekly or less…what’s to the east and west of us, where the mountains continue on?

  Umm, hundreds and hundreds of miles either direction. Would you like to see my map?

  Why didn’t you tell me that you had a map in the first place?

  Because I didn’t know if I could trust you—now I know I can. Right, Baltor?

  Right, I probably wouldn’t have told you either, but don’t worry, I don’t have any maps.

  All right, she said, just before pulling a rolled-up scroll made of human skin out of her interior robe pocket. After taking off the cloth band, she unrolled it out, and held out a corner for Baltor to take—he did.

  Per the map, this globular world contained seas, mountains, volcanoes, deserts, prairies, swamps, and even quite a bit of icy tundra at the north and south poles. It also revealed the various-sized-and-shaped territories, indicated by the red lines—thirteen territories—and about eighty cities named, of which thirteen cities were capitals, indicated by the “classic symbol” of the five-pointed-star.

  Out of them all, he noted that one city possessing a five-pointed-star with a circle around it, indicating to him the capital of capitals—he could read everything on this map. Pointing with his finger, he stated, This is the Capitol…Bastion. This is where need to go. Where are we now?

  Umm, right here. She used her right index finger to point at a spot halfway between the equator and the South Pole.

  To their east, nearly six hundred and thirty-two miles away, there existed another minor sea called the Sea of Glom, which never intersected with the sea he had exited. To their west, yet more than nine hundred miles away, was the Unhallowed Desert, which terrain spanned for tens of thousands of square miles.

  “Hmmmmm,” Baltor sighed aloud.

  Just after he had finished completing his sigh, both he and Nemis heard the sounds of marching, emanating from whence they had come—Scralcha!

  He pointed to a hiding spot within their hiding spot, which was underneath one of the boulders—they hid.

  Nearly ten minutes later, an entire division of twenty thousand demonic soldiers marched or flew on by to the Fields of Duum—about twenty feet away from the hiding spot!

  Marching behind them were hundreds of thousands of human and humanoid souls—and marching behind them was another division of demons. Following in the very rear was a daemon overlord—purple-and-black colored—but because the two continued to remain safely hidden away, they remained unobserved the entire time.

  Twenty-three uneventful hours later, in which there was little conversation between the two of them, the ground recommenced to shake again like a violent earthquake, just before the worm-creature returned to feast on more souls, hang around for a few minutes, and depart back into the ground.

  Once the earth had resettled, Baltor said telepathically, Going north is out, as this worm eats once a day. So climb on my back and let me give you a piggyback ride, so we can travel all that much faster eastbound…as you know, I’m very, very fast. To be honest, I wish I would have thought of this idea sooner.

  Okay, Nemis replied with a small smile as she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.

  After clutching onto the back of her knees with his hands, he began to run at a top speed of twenty-four miles per hour, as the two traveled eastbound through the mountains and volcanoes.

  It took a little more than twenty-six hours for Baltor to traverse the six hundred and thirty-two miles, when the sea first intermixed with the mountains…they even saw about a dozen-or-so volcanic islands out there, half of which were erupting. No decomposing bodies out there either.

  While one part of Baltor’s mind silently wished that he had been dumped into this sea because there were no corpses in there and it was closer to his destination, the other part noted that the fifty-mile stretch of beach ahead of them was unoccupied. There were a thousand massive docks, which could hold a fleet of equal-in-size ships. With no further delay, he commenced to move northbound at top speed.

  In less than four hours of time, they had already passed by the sea, entering the Swamps of Mucala. This swamp seemed typical as all others he had seen before�
��filled with steamy bogs, swamps and streams. Sporadically spread around these bodies of water were small patches of land, though all of the vegetation from the grass to the leaves was brown and dead—many areas consisted exclusively of quicksand, which Baltor always avoided any and all dangerous areas.

  As for the countless amount of other living inhabitants, if you could call them that, they too were similar to the creatures who lived in swamps on his own world—fish, frogs, birds, alligators, and crocodiles—except for the fact that every eyeball glowed red.

  Two hours after having entered these swamps, all the while avoiding all the creatures and other dangers, Baltor only then began to find that he did not like the foul and pungent smells, which odors were getting worse and worse by the minute.

  At the same time, these same smells had just started to make Nemis’ brain feel lightheaded. She asked, Can we stop please? I really need to wrap my magical scarf around my nose and mouth, as the air around here is not only getting very stinky yet toxic. Please?

  Without a word, Baltor stopped on a small patch of dead-grass land, only five feet wide by ten feet long. The surrounding terrain was flooded over by two feet of green and slimy water—only countless dead trees with their semi-exposed roots existed as far as the eye could see. He had been hopping from root to root with a slow speed of seven miles per hour.

  Once she had stepped onto the ground, she sought out her magic scarf in her pocket as fast as she could, and once located a few seconds later, she tied it around her head, over her nose and mouth. As her arms and legs were feeling sore from the ride, she began to stretch her arms and legs out, all the while looking around at the swamps. Frequently her eyes stopped at Baltor, but only for a moment or two, before looking away.

  Nearly at the same time, he took off his helmet, set it on the ground, and ripped off a strip of his undershirt before tying it around his mouth and nose. His eyes nonstop scanned his horizons, but not once had he looked at her.

  Upon watching Baltor put back on his helmet, only then did she ask, Is that going to be enough for you?

  Yes, Nemis, I don’t need air to breathe. I just don’t like the smells around here.

  Gotcha.

  As she began to look around at the area yet again, she only then observed that there were creatures either swimming or crawling toward them from all different directions—all bearing those red, glowing eyes!

  “Baltor!” Nemis called out verbally, on accident.

  Baltor—who had already noted the creatures about ten seconds earlier—put his right index finger over his lips before shushing, “Shhhh.”

  Just then, many of those creatures began to rise to their feet, so they could walk erect toward them. They were not crocodiles or any other sort of swamp creature—they were rotted-away zombie-humans wearing rusty armor and wielding just as rusty weapons! All the while, Baltor continued to remain calm and still, though Nemis did not know why—she was scared out of her wits.

  It was only as the first of the creatures drew within ten feet of their position that he called out using a commanding voice, “Stop! I am Sultan Baltor Elysian, your master. You will serve me…yes?”

  After stopping in their tracks, some faster than others, they howled nearly at the same time, “Yes, master!”

  “Good,” Baltor sighed aloud. “Now my first order is that you do not harm my friend or myself, not even on accident—so do not come any closer than you are. And my first question to you is: do you know the route to the River Styx…and which way we need to head?”

  “Yes, master,” they said, just before they all pointed to the northeast, some slower than others.

  “Great, and do you know if the River Styx is the best way to reach the Arch-Devil of the First Plane, as he and I have an important business meeting that is of a top-top-top secret nature?”

  The zombies answered in unison, “Yes, master. It is the only way.”

  “Excellent,” Baltor stated. “How far is the river from here?”

  “Not far away…not far away, my master.”

  “My final question is: will you fight for me no matter who or what it is that attacks?”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Perfect,” Baltor said with a tight-lipped smile. “Then you will follow behind my friend and I until we have reached Styx, just in case we run into any other monsters we’d prefer to avoid, including those medusas I heard about. Understood?”

  “Yes, master.”

  Nemis half-whispered, “Is it really such a good idea to have these zombies follow you? Though they claim to serve you, of which reason I have no idea why they would in the first place, I still don’t trust them, not one bit.”

  “Fine, your choice,” Baltor said while looking over at her. “We have a decent-sized army of six hundred and two undead soldiers. But, I guess we will arrive at the Arch-Devil’s palace, alone—just you and me.”

  “Good,” she replied with a wink.

  Baltor sighed, just before looking out amongst the undead and ordering, “I’m altering my orders—you shall all stay here and continue with your protective duties. My final order is that none of you will ever speak of us to anyone, ever. Perfect job, soldiers.”

  “Thank you, master.”

  “Climb on my back,” Baltor said to Nemis.

  She climbed aboard, just before they continued their journey northeast, hopping from root to root for the next hour-or-so; that is, until came the ever-increasing sizes of land that he could run across, which he did.

  Approximately eight hours later and strangely without any other encounters whatsoever, including medusas, they now stood on the small sandy beach that existed just before a massive river with strong, flowing rapids. The winds blew at thirty-mph winds. Almost too coincidentally, they saw a two-manned rowboat sitting on the beach nearby—two pairs of oars stuck out the sides.

  Baltor stopped in his tracks, just before Nemis climbed down to her feet. Only because of the unceasing winds did they both—at the same time—decide to take off their masks. She put hers away in her pocket, while he dropped his rag to the ground.

  Still not seeing anyone around, he asked aloud, “Well, think we should use the boat, or just hoof it downstream?”

  “Hoof it,” she answered, while cocking her head over toward the direction they needed to travel. “But I want to walk for a while and stretch my legs out…they’re sore, as is my fanny.”

  After nodding his head twice, the two proceeded on foot down the beach, which river—they discovered—progressively got more and more turbulent as it went.

  Nearly a mile and twenty minutes passed before she said, “Okay, Baltor, I’m ready to get this show on the road…and climb aboard.”

  “Okay.”

  Once she had climbed aboard, he proceeded to move at his top speed down the beach.

  Forty-eight miles and two hours later, and without a word spoken throughout this part of the trip, they came to discover that the rapids abruptly transformed itself into a cascading five-hundred-foot tall waterfall.

  Beyond the waterfall lay hundreds more miles of swamplands, and of course, the turbulent river that zigzagged its way beyond the next horizon.

  Still holding onto his back, she said near his ear, “Guess it’s a good thing we didn’t take the boat.”

  “Yup, you’re right about that…hold on. I’m going to jump. We’ll be fine. My legs will absorb all the shock.”

  Once she had secured herself onto his back, she said, “Okay.”

  He jumped.

  Upon making contact with the ground, fifteen seconds later, his knees buckled halfway down, in order to absorb all the shock—though she didn’t feel a thing but a slight reverb upon impact, her feet had only been an inch from touching the ground!

  Although she was about to step onto her feet, Baltor suggested aloud, “Just keep holding on.”

  Without hesitation, he bolted at top speed—forty minutes later, they came across yet another waterfall, yet this drop was a nine-hundred-foo
ter.

  As before, he stated, “Hold on,” before hopping off the cliff, which took a little more than twenty seconds before he hit the ground—after landing as before, except for the fact her feet did gently caress the ground this time, he continued trekking along the beach.

  Twenty minutes later, they reached still another waterfall—this one, however, had a drop of two thousand feet!

  Unlike the previous ones, he did not jump upon reaching the edge of the cliff, but stopped and looked all around—a few moments later, he said, “Step down for a minute, please.”

  “Okay.”

  He double-checked all around, and as he still saw nobody, he visualized a portal to open—a rune appeared in his mind, and his finger drew it into the air while his mouth said, “Follow me.”

  After the portal had opened, he stepped through to the other side—she followed and the portal closed.

  “Climb on my back,” he stated aloud on the other side.

  Once she had climbed aboard, this time without a word spoken, he continued to travel at top speed down the beach.

  Thirty-one minutes later, they both heard the faint sounds of a booming explosion, which came from the very direction they were traveling, perhaps thirty miles away—he stopped in his tracks on a large boulder. She stepped down to her feet before standing to his right side.

  Just then, a massive cannonball of fire could be seen sailing fast and high across the skies far ahead in an arcing pattern, also about thirty miles away. Only moments after it had disappeared below the horizon, there came the equal-in-volume explosion! They watched on the path.

  Before the next second had passed, two fireballs—coming from different directions in that same vicinity—flew across the skies. Moments after disappearing, there came two different booming explosions at the same time!

  “War,” was the single word Baltor used.

  “Yup, but that’s where Bastion lies.”

  “Hmmm,” he hummed with pursed lips and scrunched eyes. Once that look had cleared, he said, “Climb aboard, but ensure to keep your eyes peeled for enemy demons guards, or anything far-far worse! Especially now.”