"Exactly" Carlisle said, and then awkwardly he added. "How did you know?"
"Do you know him?" Morgana asked.
"Yes. A long time ago" answered the great impaler, Morgana wanted to ask more, but she knew that anything or anyone associated with Zander's past was dreadful, unpleasant in many ways.
"What happened to you was tragic, I won't wish that on anyone. You will get your realm back" the great impaler said.
"Really?" Carlisle asked, shocked and amazed at the same time - he could not believe that the mighty war god would actually help him.
"I don't speak falsely" Zander said, whenever he says something - anything, he means it, no matter what it is.
Carlisle fell to the ground immediately.
"Thank you, thank youvso much... I --" he continued to show his gratitude. But the great impaler told him that it was quite alright. He was going to help him because he wanted to, he isn't being forced to.
"You can stand" the war god told him.
"Are you sure?" Carlisle asked, just to confirm. He holds the great impaler in high regard and with great respect, despite the fact that they were age mates. It was well known that the great impaler holds many wealth, respect and army for a young god.
Zander smiled at his question. "Yes, I am"
Carlisle stood up, "Thank you, sire"
"No, don't do that" Zander told him.
"Do what?" Carlisle asked, because he was being too careful, at least to impress his exampler.
"The formality, it's not necessary" Zander told him. The great impaler has not always fancied the high status thing. Hearing this god refer to him as 'sire' did not very well appeal to him.
Carlisle nodded his head.
"Morgana, bring him to the turret tomorrow, we can start from there"
"I understand. Thank you Zander" Morgana said with a smile.
He smiled back. "What are friends for" Zander said lastly, before he left.
"D-did he j-just call me...his f-friend?" Carlisle stuttered - he couldn't believe it.
"Relax, Carlisle. He was referring to me" Morgana said smiling at his silliness. If Carlisle were a female, Morgana was certain that he would be head over heels for Zander.
The god inhaled deeply. "The turret," he whispered, "The third battalion's training grounds. I'm so honored" he said smiling from ear to ear.
"You are not the only one, so get over it" Morgana suggested.
"I don't think I can" Carlisle said, before he laughed.
"Are you sure you're are still sane?" the physician asked.
"I am perfectly sane!" he announced grinning.
Morgana shook her head then walked into her room, leaving the overly rejoiced mind god to continue on his happy mood.
*********************
The great impaler stood on the vast balcony of his chamber, from where he stood he could see the whole of the realm - and t'was beautiful. His chamber was the highest room within the castle - up there it was so quiet, private - that was one of the few reasons why Zander picked the room.
His brothers has advised him to pick a room near theirs, but instead the great impaler chose the highest and the isolated chamber. Zander has always loved having his own private time. So that he could clear his head and deal with the demons in his head. But tonight as he stood on the balcony, it seemed like those voices in his head was getting louder.
He shut his eyes, trying to get rid of those voices - the cries of the thousand warriors that he had killed mercilessly. Zander has killed thousands men, enough to damn his soul - and now he was remembering how it all started.
ELEVEN YEARS AGO.
CITY OF BONES.
"What are you wanting for?" a deep hoarse voice asked from behind fifteen year old Zander.
Zander held his sword firm in his hand, as his fixatedly stared at the god that he was supposed to kill tonight. His defeated opponent was literally pleading with his eyes - even though he knew, it was hopeless.
"Kill him" Adrelhael whispered into the ear of the fifteen year old god, but still he stood his ground.
"Vledlamir" Adrelhael called him, "Strike him. It was a fight to the death, now it's your time to do the needful"
Zander tightened his grip on his sword - he could now see how profusely his opponent was sweating. 'Why was he hesitating' he asked himself. This was not his first time of killing - but this one doesn't feel right, why...
"Vledlamir!" Adrelhael thundered, then without wasting time Zander buried his sword deep inside his opponent. Zander could feel and hear his flesh and tissues tearing, he pushed his sword deeper and deeper - his opponent coughed out blood before he dropped dead on the ground.
"Good job, Vledlamir." Adrelhael patted him in the back before he walked out leaving the him with the corpse.
Zander stared down at the dead body as pool of blood started to stream out - and even though he didn't want to admit it, killing has always felt good.