Desperate times call for desperate measures and war happens to bring out the best and worst in humans.
War is something that few enjoy as much as I. Now you may think of me as cruel and uncaring and that might be the case but that does not mean I am completely emotionless. In fact, I am more emotional than most.
I don't like war for its screams or for the people groveling at my feet to beg for mercy. Unlike what most may think I rather dislike those things.
The true reason I like war is that it gives me a purpose. A reason to be let out. Out of the cave full of corpses that I call my home.
As a place that light cannot reach, the cave is where they usually keep me. Keep me prisoner. Keep me under control.
They seem afraid that I might do something to them, not that I would. If I had a choice, I would not want to harm anybody. But then again, I've never had a choice.
I've heard them speak in murmurs, throwing quick glances in my direction. They say that I will use the power of light to kill them. This is something I don't understand. In all the stories my guardian (the only one that speaks to me) has told me, light has always been the power of god. The power of good. The power of the hero.
So instead of being the worshiped hero, why am I locked away like the villain?
I don't understand.
When I conveyed my confusion to my guardian, she gave me a deep look and said, "There are no heroes. Only monsters that are used for the good of mankind."
Even now, when a 100 years have passed and I have long escaped from that place, I still remember the exact words she told me that day.