@white-bird-ripped-wings liked for a drabble!
Paradoxes. Fun little mind games, shit to pass the time.
What came first, the chicken or the egg? The answer, to Krieg, was simple. Life always starts in the early stages; the chicken did not simply pop into existence. In fact, the existence of eggs as a reproductive method existed long before the fierce tyrant of the Jurassic evolved into a small, harmless game hen.
Is the word “hetrological” in itself a heterological word? No. Heterological is a classification of a word, and it is indeed applicable to itself.
But there was one Paradox Krieg did not quite have an answer for, even though, statistically speaking, it wad the easiest to solve.
When he had been banished to this dead planet, it had been said that he was an untouchable, irresistible God of War. He had infected the minds of many, blessed his champions, grown stronger in every battle, regardless of the victor. The only reason he could not prevent the betrayal was because he did not see it coming. Therefore, his irresistible status was still safe - even if the untouchable prefix had been revoked.
And then there was the strange Goddess he was trapped with. Every day Amos found himself clashing with the little Dove. His power would inevitably overwhelm her, and yet she did not break. She was immovible. She did not possess his power, and he did not possess her fortitude.
It was as they sat underneath one of the long dead trees (Dove had identified it as a cherry blossom) that Krieg contemplated giving up on ever solving the Paradox. He would surely go mad before finding his answer.
Daily sparring was required, of course. There was nothing else to do on this dead planet, and the Goddess never objected. Her disgusting rot would cover him, or he would obliterate her body with his fists. Whichever came first. Then came the healing period.
Today, though, he was armed with knowledge he had not had before: Dove was responsible for this dead planet.
The rage that filled the man was almost ridiculous. This planet had not always been this way like he had been lead to believe.
Pinning the Dove was easy. Her emotionless face made him falter, though, and the fist that was raised to smash her skull in instead moved to her collar, were both hands now were. The tentacle like bandages that covered his face and body retracted in a rare occasion. The rot was infecting him yet again but he didn’t care. He was fueled by his rage and his sorrow at not only never being able to see his people again, but at the idea that his people had thought he would be happy here, that he could find a way to live.
“Tell me why you did it. Why did you kill this planet? The tome they used to banish me. It was never meant as a punishment. Do you realize how many people out there still think this planet is hospitable?”
He could see, for the first time, Dove’s face contort into something inbetween regret, guilt, and fury. Her thick legs suddenly kicked up and ensnared his thighs, pushing him closer to her.
“Choose your next words carefully, War. I think of it every single day.”
War’s hands tightened around the Dove’s throat and, instead of gasping or yelping, she moaned. The Goddess of Death and Rot and Misery had moaned.
She hadn’t grunted or groaned in pain, and the moan wasn’t even from having her head hit. It was pleasure. Did she really enjoy being choked?
Brown eyes widened in fury. Here he was trying to figure out her motivation, and she was taking pleasure in it.
Then, something unexpected happened. He himself felt his heart begin to loosen. All the hatred that had coiled it for centuries was coming undone. He was just left bitter and miserable.
The Dove had finally won, and as the giant removed himself from the Goddess, tears streaming down his face, he finally found his answer.
When an irresistible force finds itself unable to shake an untouchable, immovible object, it gives up. It submits to despair.
The giant turned to snarl at the Dove one last time before he left, even as her face contorted with embarrassment and regret.
