When Lust Meets War

The ancient room was empty. All furniture had been destroyed by the argument; the servants had cleared it away, but the fire was still burning strongly. The clothes the leaders were wearing, were ahead of their time; neither of them left their castle, so no one in the outside world noticed. Metuere stood straight; her flowing French dress from the 1700s forced her to maintain a perfect posture. The green velvet made her eyes truly emerald in colour. Her black velvet cape with silk lining, made her raven coloured hair shine in the light of the glowing fire. The light from the fire danced on her deathly pale skin; with her hand on her stomach, stroking, already caring for the child that had not yet been born. She was full of equanimity on the outside; inside she was screaming, crying, punching, and tearing down the walls. Odium sat on the chair; he too seemed relaxed. His clothes were also from Renaissance France; frills, and lace covered every inch of his masculine body. Inside, he was killing Metuere, slowly and painfully. They had been arguing yet again, about the same thing as always. Both were equally strong in their own rights; Odium was a true fighter, whereas Metuere could lead an army and a country at the same time. He was masculine beyond words. His white shirt strained around his muscles; the muscles were supposed to make him look strong, but he looked, instead, like a cartoon character with an over-enthusiastic animator.

They remained in silence for an eternal second; both of them had been staring at each other, trying to work out what the other was thinking. Odium broke it first. “You must realize, Metuere, that you are no match for my power. You are a woman, and thus you are weak!”

“Odium, please, stay calm. We must think this through. Think of our children. My daughter is not strong enough to fight a war. And I’m pregnant. And your son; you son is barely twelve. He has his future to think about. Do you really want to want to risk their lives, just to prove a point?”

“Prove a point? Prove a point?! My darling sister, I am going to rule the world as we know it, and you think I am simply proving a point? Oh how little you know about me, Metuere. Think carefully about your answer. It will affect your family for generations to come.”

“Brother, please. Ab abusu ad usum non valet consequentia. Rights abused by some are still rights. Did learning Latin teach you nothing?”

Odium frowned. “Do not use Latin. Learning teaches nothing. Teaching learns, not learning.” With a smirk that could have been drawn by the Devil Himself, Odium continued, “Did Mother teach you nothing?”

“Vah! Denuone latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur. You are mocking me, Odium. There is no need to ridicule me. We are blood relations. That should mean something to you. I can tell from your eyes that means nothing.”

“You know nothing of how I feel! I don’t care if you are a blood relative. Your life means nothing. I would rather kill you and your unborn child, then to spend one more minute with you.”

Odium left, slamming the rosewood door behind him in a temper. Metuere was left alone. She wept so hard her eyes stung like pins being pushed into a pincushion. She wept as she declared war. Oblivious to her actions, Odium also declared war. The siblings called their armies at the same time, on the same day. It was the dawn of the first day, of the first month, in the first year, of the first century A.D.

Metuere gave birth. She named her child Somnia, the Latin word meaning, “moonshine”; she was born in the light of a full moon, on the stroke of midnight. Neither sibling knew that the other also declared war; both assumed that they had started it. Metuere was walking down the servants’ corridor, when she heard the conversation that changed all her beliefs about the war.

“Yes, and I heard something like that too,” one servant gossiped to the other, “I heard that he was the one who called the army. Apparently, the army is divided.”

“I know! Those who have families are backing the Mistress, but everyone without a family is backing the Master. He is strong, though. Surely he is no match in fighting her. But Mistress...oh Mistress can lead an army to war, and then speak to you like you’re one of them.” The servant said “them” as though it should have been capitalized. He meant, by “them”, one of the royals. Metuere listened with care.

“My husband nearly killed me when I told him that I support the Mistress. He went mad! He picked up my son, and ran off to the Odium place. They’re moving soon; too many people are supporting them. But if you ask me, they may have manpower, but we have Mistress. She won’t let us all die.”

Later that night, the first bomb struck. Sanguis was left motherless. Metuere was killed, along with six servants, twenty-one children, and three in royalty. That same night, Odium was found dead; his body had been blown apart by nothing. There were no traces of anything in the room. Both siblings died in the same way, at the same time.