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Before commencing the tale, there is one thing you must understand; War and Wisdom go hand in hand. The two concepts are meant to be married for the former to be anywhere near successful. Yet this tale, the legend that is about to be presented, disregards that. While yes, War and Wisdom are married, by no means does the former rely on the latter. He is a force to be reckoned with on his own.
It all began during an era that predates our own by many centuries. An era where the gods still ruled over earth and large battles were just another Tuesday afternoon. An era that we have long forgotten. Waging war against one’s own nation was treachery, and yet it was commonplace for rulers to be overthrown and call for calamities. Villages rarely destroyed by the chaos, but sometimes they too perish.
The culprit? Why he rides in on a manticore, a smirk ever present on his lips. Adorning his torso is a crisp white shirt. Not a single speck of dirt riddled the cloth, as if it was resistant to such petty things. Around his waist hung the sheath of his sword, the weapon instilled in his hand hanging at his side as he flew over the heads of those already engaging in war.
He watches with hawk eyes to see who would win the battle. His sights weren’t set on winning, that aspiration is far too bleak for a god of his caliber. Winning is for the infant gods who have not yet learned the beauty and boons of the long game. The push and pull, the uncertainty and fury that plagues the combatants; all welcome feelings that the god of war eagerly feasts upon.
The fumes of the fire that follows a massacre, asking for help; those are his favourite. The reek of wrath and the desperation sent him into a frenzy. Maniacal laughter that begins as a slow chuckle. Stupid gods that occupy the thrones at the top of the ladder thinking they control the mortals below. Why they’re nothing but dolls who need but a simple whisper to fall prey to their own desires. Feeble vermin who are good for nothing but being pawns in the game of the gods.
The king of the gods thinks that he has all the power, but he’s unaware of the turmoil that looms in the darkest corners of the halls in the palace. The whispers of upheaval and betrayal always at the lowest volume, shy of those that occupied the thrones of high importance. For centuries the minor gods have been overshadowed, thrown to the wolves to remedy issues that weren’t even theirs in the first place. They’re just cleaning up after the higher beings.
War, or as he’s more simply known, Jin, is a man after power. He needs it in the way that those pests need air to breathe. For too long he’s been written off as someone to not be too worried about. As if he couldn’t do any damage with just a mere flick of his fingers. Always looked down upon and only ever spoken to when they need aid in warfare.
At first he’d been a loyal follower of the rules. Bright eyed, eager and always willing to do what he was born to. But after doing it for ages, it gets dull; like his blade. He did the heavy lifting, and yet he was never thanked after a well fought battle. No respect from those blighters that asked for blessings but in return were stingy with their thanks. Jin wanted them gone, wanted them to perish, but who would stoke the eternal flames of their existence?
So here he goes again, sweeping over the group of men fighting a petty war, not knowing that it was stoked by Love himself. Playing around with the tender and private feelings while using the smallest flicker of fickleness that arises to alight into a fire. Taehyung was just as fed up with the way that the greater gods ran the palace and how arbitrary their rules were. While he would never be able to settle on a throne long enough to evoke the loyalty that some other gods could; he was not opposed to aiding War with his schemes.
Deciding how he will take part in this battle, he pats his manticore, Jupiter, to set him down in the middle of the battle ground. No harm in having all eyes on him when he is draped in golds and silvers encrusted with jewels that protect his head and adorn his ears and wrists in chains and hoops. He’s as dainty as he is dangerous. Standing in the middle of a battlefield with his grand beast as the sun glistens against the bedazzled helmet and dangling ornaments.
“Stand there not, dost thou not have a battle to conquer?” As if a gong had been sounded, the two cohorts ran at each other as War and his partner disappeared among the crowd. Moving with graceful speed, near invisible to the human eye, War takes pride in purging the battlefield. Slowly, but enough to quench the bloodlust that controls his being.
His crisp white shirt soaking in the crimson that flows from the mortals. Here and there gold spills onto the shirt, tears on his shirt decorated with the blood of gods. His armour decorated with valour and dignity. He wipes out half of each army and perhaps a little more of the troops that had been winning. A win from the underdogs.
War chuckles to himself, eyes downcast. Pathetic mortals; they really thought this battle was important to their survival. Nothing could be more wrong. Jeongguk was already awaiting the souls of the deceased. Once in the underworld, the god of death or simply, Death, would shape them into soldiers who could withstand the harshest blows from the staff of the king. Perhaps Elixir would be able to concoct something to make the king more docile. After all, where Jeongguk and Taehyung are involved, Jimin isn’t far behind.
While the humans squabble among themselves, a new era will be unfolding in the heavens. An era of new, everlasting power. An era of coexisting with the lesser than beings. Jin didn’t like them, evidently, but Nature seems to have a soft spot for them. Hoseok had been called many things over the years, namely Sun, but he is responsible for nature and that includes the humans. Jin doesn’t understand it either, but apparently that’s what Hoseok says.
When War steps foot into his room in the heavens, he knows that there is another being in the room; or perhaps two. Not only can he hear the murmurs, but he can feel their presence. Toeing off his boots, he struts into the room where the presence is most strong. There he sees Wisdom and Hypnos engaged in conversation. The two nod at the newcomer before Namjoon is clicking his tongue.
“One day. All I ask is one day you don’t ruin your shirts.” He panders as he unbuttons the shirt and slips it off War. The god merely smirks as his crimson stained torso is on display for their guest to see. His wounds had healed and in place a golden tattoo found a home on the honey skin for each gash.
“But Namjoon-ah, you weren’t there,” the fire burns intensely behind the molten pools of chocolate; exhilaration. “Oh it’s delightful. Zipping through the ranks, piercing their fragile bodies with the tip of my sword. The splatters of blood that paint your visage. Oh if I could, I’d bathe in the blood of those fools after every battle. Insolent human beings. I’ve heard some of their thoughts; desires to kill a god. How pitiful, even for them.” Jin thunders as Wisdom returns with a bowl of water and proceeds to wipe away the bloody stains.
“Well, you’re willing to do the same, are you not?” Yoongi speaks up from the couch. Jin turns his head a fraction and shoots the other god a roguish grin.
“Ah, but dear Hypnos, my little lamb, the humans don’t have the Flaming Sword now do they?” War smirks, turning to his guest and letting Wisdom wipe his back.
“And I’m supposed to believe you do? Sorry bud, that’s been long gone.” Yoongi scoffs. Jin sighs and with a mumbled apology, he pulls out his sword from next to Namjoon’s head.
“Behold,” the god says, whispering a few carefully practiced words. For several heartbeats, nothing happens. Hypnos is about to call on War’s bluff, but then an eerie orange glow expelled itself outwards from the core of the sword and engulfed the weapon in a frigid blue aura. Yet War was holding the sword as if it wasn’t scorching hot.
“You- the sword- how-?” Hypnos splutters, before his eyes grow wider and he leaps to his feet. “You’ve used that sword in combat against me!” He accuses, drawing a melodious laughter from Jin. He murmurs another set of words that extinguish the fire before storing it back in its sheath.
Wisdom has a hand on the small of War’s back even before the god can stumble. He didn’t want to give Hypnos a reason to think he wasn’t fit to dispose of the king.
“The difference lies in the fact that I never wished to injure or maim you. It was a friendly combat over your brother’s hand in marriage.” Yoongi mutters and looks past Jin to his brother Namjoon who stands tall next to War. Wisdom and War, married for centuries, despite the blatant contrasts in character.
Wisdom seldom spoke unless he had to, always opening his mouth when he had something to contribute to the conversation or was announcing a blueprint for an upcoming project. It was the complete opposite of his husband, War who spoke without thinking. He would say whatever was on his mind without caring about who he would be hurting with his words. Some would call him hotheaded, his closest allies just call him blunt with very good reason. It was really a case of opposites attracting.
“Yeah, yeah. Point is you could have caused serious damage to me if you really wanted to.” Yoongi says accusingly. Jin laughs boisterously as the slightly younger god mutters about how War was a walking hazard. Joon gently tugs his husband towards him and lets the older god rest most of his weight against Wisdom.
“Shouldn’t you get back? Seokie is probably waiting for you.” Namjoon smiles gently. Hypnos looks at his watch and curses. Hastily he bids the married couple adieu before making the short trip to his shared living establishment with Nature.
Wisdom guides his husband to the couch that was previously occupied. The latter collapses against the soft cushions and closes his eyes. He was exhausted beyond belief. The battle had rendered him impossibly tired. He didn’t think it possible to be that exhausted after combat with the humans.
“You need to stop getting injured.” Wisdom chastises as his brows furrow, fingers tracing gashes and wounds that were sealed with gold and coated with honey. “It makes you weaker. There’s no valour in being so injured and weak that you can barely stand.” War clenches his jaw and turns away from his lover.
Wisdom is right, as he often is, but that didn’t mean that War had to like it. A sigh falls from full lips. He would be the reason that their coup is unsuccessful. No one else knows how to wield the sword like him. Namjoon could, but would he want to, is the question. Jin would never make his husband do anything that the male did not want to.
“Will it work?” War asks his lover later that night. The two are huddled under the covers as faux snow falls outside their window. The both of them in nothing but boxers as they crowd each other to keep warm.
“Even if it doesn’t you might be the only hope we all have at bringing about some kind of change.” Namjoon shuffles to tuck himself under Jin’s chin. “Even if you aren’t leading the new order, we can rest assured that the little guys have someone to speak on their behalf. You’re not all brawn, you’re quite the beauty and the brains as well.” Joon teases.
The elder chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to the crown of his beloved’s head.
“You’d look good in a crown.” Jin says casually. He feels the heat against his chest, a telltale sign that his partner is red. With a mumbled ‘ go to sleep! ’ and several kisses later, the two fall into a peaceful slumber.
Wisdom and War are married, but are forces to be reckoned with on their own. Wisdom will have you eating out of the palm of their hands before War can even unsheath their sword. That doesn’t mean that either are more or less fearsome than the other. You should fear both, for together, they wreak havoc on your mind and body.