~2~

Outside Ft. Worth, Texas~

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They had been sent outside the realm for a job- a mission that never fully materialized. Now, at long last, he had lost interest in the wait. After centuries, Borgin and Tron still fiercely fed their appetites with wine and women. Oz however, had longed for an end to their unintended exile.

He’d longed to return home and reap the reward they were promised. The end of their service. The War God Ogun had promised the twelve Generals chosen for the gate job an honorable discharge from the God King’s Army. The only thing that could match an honorable discharge was an honorable death in battle.

His kind could only be killed by another immortal of the Origin Realm. While that left many methods of death up for grabs, for a legion soldier, a battle death was the highest honor.

Talk of the Epic Battle had been talk for so long; the unrealized event had become myth. The battle had become so much of a myth; it had even warranted its own Epic Poem.

Land of Beauty. Land of Life.

Land of Danger. Land of Strife-

“Seeing you will be good for morale, Oz.”

An easy voice carried across the night air that whipped with heightened intensity. That intensity seemed magnified given the manner it surged through the Jeep’s nonexistent doors and roof. Oz’s Second Lieutenant, served as his ride from the airport and was a welcomed intrusion on his dark thoughts.

“Is it low?” Oz asked.

Elam’s cocky grin would’ve been all but invisible were it not for his perfect and blindingly white teeth searing the darkness. “Morale is always good,” he boasted. “Especially around shift change. I believe my fellow brothers in arms take delight as much in its swift arrival as they do in the knowledge of what their time off will bring.”

Oz indulged in the contagious laughter that conversations with Elam always promised. “Aren’t they already acquainted with every brothel in this and the three closest states?”

“When time off lasts for eleven months; there’s time enough to indulge in pleasures that span the globe!”

Oz’s robust laughter erupted again and Elam joined.

“Why haven’t you been thoughtful enough to share some of your considerable laid-backness with your cousin?”

“Oz...” Elam’s sigh was of the theatrical variety. “I would if only the kid knew what to do with it.”

There was more laughter, that time at Yam’s expense. It was all in fun. Yam was older than his cousin by a mere two months, and Elam loved him beyond measure.

“So you’re saying my visit is nothing special since morale always soars above the clouds, eh?”

“That too, but not entirely.”

“Guessing games aren’t my favorites, E.”

Elam gave a staying wave. “It’s Walim.”

Oz responded to the news with a tight smile that still managed to be humorous. “What’s the resident psychic envisioning now?”

“An end to the status quo.”

The response removed all traces of Oz’s amusement.

“No one’s implying that they’re eager to step away from their duties, Oz,” Elam quickly reassured his superior.

“So if I were to say that I’m here to relieve my men of their duty, you’d argue the decision and ask to remain?” Oz smiled when the Jeep made a quick dip off the road’s shoulder. He could sense Elam shedding some of his ‘laid-backness’ for a more professional manner.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Oz urged.

Elam obeyed the order with a nod. “Is that why you’re here? Wal-”

“Walim’s innocent, but Neptune won’t appreciate that you and Yam are aware of this before he is.”

Elam blinked, swallowed and flexed his fingers over the steering wheel to caution against any further weaving across the road. “General, why? Now, after all this time?”

“Because it’s been ‘all this time’. The other two armies were relieved of duties long ago. Time for me to grant the same freedom to my men-give you all the chance to enjoy what you can of a real life.”

“Most of our men are enjoying real life, Sir.”

Oz grinned. “It’s called a vacation when you have to get back to your day job, E. I’m talking about doing what you dream for the rest of your days- not living to satisfy the whims of a place and beings long vanished.”

Elam was quiet for a time. He could hear the soft lament in his General’s voice. It was well known how loyal Oz was to their cause.

“Forgive me for pointing this out, Sir,” Elam said once he felt enough time had passed. “Since the majority of your men dream of fucking for the rest of their days, I’d say their real life and vacation are one in the same.”

Again, the boisterous roar of genuine laughter surged into the night air.

***

Neptune had never lost his suspicious nature. Of course that was a favored and much needed skill-set for a lieutenant general in command of 2000 men. Neptune would be forever grateful that he had chosen the right profession.

Still, he knew his suspicious ways were part of his DNA. There had been little to rile the suspicions of one such as he over the course of the last millennia. Things hadn’t been completely quiet. After all, this world was not without its share of strife. War was frequent- a refreshing endeavor to keep the abilities sharp when a lengthy stretch of time off came his way.

Time off. He hadn’t enjoyed an extended bout of that luxury in a very long time. Not since the other two legions had been withdrawn over seven centuries earlier. It was a solitary life, but solitude had its benefits. This had been especially true over the last 200 years. The world had evolved at a dizzying pace with books, art, music and film becoming some of his prized delights. What of women? Delicious to be certain. Dangerous for all time. In spite of what the history books said of war, Neptune had been around long enough to know for certain. The seedlings of war sprouted when a man desired a woman who desired another man.

Yes, women were a dangerous, desirable breed capable of inciting the bloodiest encounters. The only thing bloodier than the wars of men, were the seedlings sprung when a woman desired a man...who desired another woman.

Despite the danger, Neptune couldn’t resist capturing the female image with parchment and quill. Art had been his preference among the prized delights of his adopted realm. Regardless of its wars and depravities, the world beyond his native home was a beautiful one with a potential still unrealized.

Sadly, there wasn’t much beauty in his present location to warrant immortal capture on one of his valued parchments. While the old ways were still the best, parchment wasn’t as abundant as it used to be. A subject had to be a true vision to receive the honor of being recreated so pristinely.

True vision, indeed. Neptune thought of the image that had so far, warranted capture on not one, but five of his prized pages. His interest wasn’t wholly in his current subject’s beauty, which was substantial. Moreover, it was the mystery of how his subject had come to be in this particular locale that had him...well...suspicious.

“Sir!”

“At ease,” Neptune urged in the cool deep of his richly accented voice. “Report,” he didn’t bother looking up to address the younger man’s urgent call.

“He’s here, Sir.”

The words encouraged Neptune to make eye contact with the soldier who; despite the ‘at ease’ order, remained at attention-arms back, shoulders straight. Neptune didn’t bother to call him on it. The men were understandably more self-aware given the arrival of their general who was only a mere 9 or 10 years older than many of them.

Regardless of his age, Osmium had crafted a well-known, well-feared name by the time the chosen legions had received the final, damning assignment.

The arrival of his general instilled a sense of pride in Neptune as well. Only 10 years Oz’s senior, Neptune had delighted in watching the man who had once served as his lieutenant general. Oz had grown in strength, ability and intelligence. He was a born strategist and that capacity had earned him countless victories on the field both as a Lieutenant General and more once he stood in full command of his own army.

Neptune viewed a visit from Oz as a father might view one from his favorite son or brother given their slight age difference. Pushing back from the long, wide desk of gleaming oak, he stood from the massive chair he occupied.

“Where?” He asked.

~~~

A grin from Osmium had been known to render a woman motionless if she was graced to have it directed her way. Part of the potency most likely rested in the fact that Oz’s grins were rare occurrences. His features most often relayed a serious intent. When the intent was playful, the man’s killer looks were downright irresistible. Oz’s rarely seen playful persona blazed through when he saw Neptune arriving in the officer’s tent. The two met for a hug in the middle of the vast, starkly alluring construction.

“I was hoping the men would tell me you were all tucked in for the night,” Oz mused when they pulled back from each other.

Neptune’s grin brought to life a riveting twinkle in the depths of his vivid green gaze. “You know me,” he gave a lazy half shrug while running a hand across a silken crown of closely cropped gray.

“Yeah,” Oz nodded slowly. “Yes, I do. Aren’t you ready for a break?”

“Let’s see,” Neptune set phony confusion in place. “I seem to have forgotten the meaning of that word.”

“Would you like a reminder?”

Neptune took another step back and regarded Oz with his usual brand of suspicion. “What’s going on with you?” He asked.

Oz shook his head. “Nothing and that’s the problem or...the solution, depending on how you view it.”

“And how do you view it?”

“A solution.”

“Oz-”

“Come on, Nep. I’m sick of us wasting our time and I’m not even here all the time. Aren’t you ready to-”

“What? Walk away from this? Exactly how do you propose we do that?”

“You know we’ve devised ways to secure and monitor the gate without us having to be here all the time,” Oz’s expression was grim. “No one’s come within a hundred feet of this place in centuries. It’s not necessary for all of us to waste away at the behest of people we’ll never see again.”

“And you’re so sure of that?”

“Well let’s see...” Oz was the one wearing the look of phony confusion then. “It’s been over two thousand years; yeah...I’m pretty goddamn sure.”

Neptune turned away to walk the perimeter of the lamp lit space. His footfalls were muffled beneath the layers of handwoven rugs beneath his feet. “What do you propose the men do after they’re relieved of service?” His tone was quiet.

“How about live?” Oz’s tone was equally quiet. “It doesn’t matter how many months off they have, Nep. They still have to return to a job that has no imminent purpose.”

“Anything that needs to be secured and monitored to protect it from the world at large has an imminent purpose, Oz.” Neptune inclined his head in challenge. “You say you want these kids to live? For most of them, this mission is the closest they’ll ever get to realizing their purpose. We’re bred to fight, Oz. Days, centuries, millennium, eternity-take that away from them, you damn them.”

Oz had begun to pace the tent as well. Neptune’s argument had him stopping to settle onto one of the long, overstuffed sofas furnishing the space. He valued Neptune’s advice above all others. The man had taught him everything he knew.

A cherished friend of the War God and once the realm’s winningest general, Neptune was a man free from the demands of his ego. Such an attribute had allowed him to choose the greater good over a well-earned life of leisure when Ogun had summoned his twelve. Oz had all but begged for Neptune’s continued council.

“None of that makes this any fairer to them, Nep,” Oz’s voice carried on a cavernous octave that filtered with an undeniable and uncharacteristic weariness. “You and I, we’ve paid our dues in battle. We had the chance to appease the hunger of the beast inside us. Not so for most of those kids out there. It’s bad enough to have that beast caged inside them, worse to have it waiting on a feast that’ll never come.”

“You won’t sell me on your argument, no matter how poetic you make it sound.”

“Gods, Nep!” Oz pushed from the sofa. “Borg’s and Tron’s forces were relieved long ago-”

“And where are they now?” Neptune’s deceptively cool allure at once blazed with an all too malicious fire.

“Some have crafted pretty good lives- rewarding careers.” Oz countered. “We’ve got several authors among us. A bookworm like you can even appreciate that.”

“Sure I can, but I’m more concerned with the majority of us. The ones fat and drunk off wine and women or joined up with the kind of filth we swore to march against. You should want better for your men.”

“That’s what I’m trying to give them, Nep.”

“Well this isn’t the way. Besides, as it happens, the tide may be turning.”

Oz had but a moment to puzzle over that comment, before he and Neptune were interrupted.

“Apologies, Generals,” Elam said.

“What is it, E?”

“Something General Osmium should see,” Elam looked from Neptune to Oz.

“Trouble?” Neptune queried.

“Perhaps, Sir,” Elam’s grin was alive with devilry. “Most likely, yes. The men would prefer to call it a gift.”

***

The men were right, Oz thought. The jolting silver of his gaze was a little less intense having gone softer with an onset of captivation. It had rushed in quickly behind the surprise at finding what awaited him.

She was a provocative creation. He was sold on that as fact having only been able to study her profile. The other side of her face was cradled in the pillow. Much of her profile for that matter was shielded beneath her hair. The coarse ebony locks appeared as a dark cloud crowning her head and splaying across the stark white cases of the pillows.

He dared not touch her for fear that he’d wake her and he wasn’t ready for that yet. Playing the observer was a far more enjoyable task. Her features; what he could make of them, appeared delicate. He couldn’t see the rest of her in order to confirm that. She was hidden beneath quilts on the sturdy empire king bed inside the general’s quarters.

Her skin was shades lighter than the licorice dark of his. Hers was an even almond tone that provided a flawless canvas for her features.

Delicate indeed, Oz acknowledged while a slow smirk lifted the corners of his wide, superbly sculpted mouth. Delicate, he mused, and yet she’d put three of his men in the infirmary. Above average fighting skills? He wondered. It was plausible, quite plausible. So why did he believe it was more than that?

She shifted and he eased away from where he hunched over her on the lushly dressed bed. The covers; comforters of shimmering champagne satin, tumbled from her shoulders and confirmed his pre-assessment that her skin was a flawless canvas for her beauty. Deftly, he tugged the bed dressings lower to appreciate the subtle flex of muscle along her back, the dip of her spine, the hourglass curve at her waist...

This was a gift to be savored far away from the bleak desolation of his current location. He winced, cursed quietly at the sudden twinge that had him bowing his head to investigate the source of the discomfort along his arm.

He forgot about the discomfort when the woman’s body once more reclaimed his focus. Her upper arm sparkled-no... No, that-that wasn’t right-couldn’t be right, but...it was...

Her upper arm...sparkled, revealing a distinct pattern that encircled the limb like a...cuff? What the fuck?

She shifted again. Awake now, she rolled to her back, glaring up at him with outraged exquisite eyes. Oz indulged in but a moment to enjoy the full view of her face before his eyes made the reluctant drift back to her arm.

“Where the hell did you get that?” He demanded.