We try to fit, yet weird they say,
We try to reach, yet loser they make,
We climb the wall, yet nothing they pay,
We fell from sky, yet no one did pray.

***

Your patience is finally going to pay because now you know how it all started and now you know who they are, and most specifically, how silently the war had been brought to life. Thus, all we need to do now is to walk forward and jump right in the core of the battlefield because all wars have to come to an end; either through a negotiation or through a fight of strength and heroism. It's finally time for some action. But don't get too excited. I'll suggest you to keep your popcorns away (you know those things you eat to prove you're getting entertained). We certainly don't want any munching soundtrack because haven't you understood it yet? This is a serious matter. What you're going to read next, might not be extraordinary but it will either terrify you or leave you completely baffled. Hence, the twist isn't a mastermind; it's just an ugly continuation of someone's history.

____

It was the mid of June. You see, the warm love of Summer had reached its peak-burning with a passion. Hence, everyone had been drenched it that love, not willingly though. My warriors were the most prominent ones; glistening shades of brown all over them. I could the almost see the playful hot wind blowing around there tender skin—spinning as if kissing those little diamonds. Nature, in contrast to Fate, was embracing them with open arms.

I had slowly and very silently stepped in their territory...wait a second! Is that—is someone eating here? I strictly I asked you humans to keep your popcorns away. I can bet it's one of you rebel teenagers who never follow rules. But whoever you are, listen closely. I used to be the Head of Poverty Department of Fate once and I still have a lot of connections to crush you between my fingers. So, consider this a last warning; you don't want to see my wrath.

Now, where were we? Oh yes! So, you already have an intuition that something unpredictable is coming up. I haven't kept secrets from the very start. Our bond has been of sincerity, thanks to you. But those with criticism boiling up in their hearts, just let me make something clear—say whatever you want to say about me but not a single word against the warriors.

____

As I had walked closer to the enemies, invisibility enveloped me. I noticed how the Sun had been burning jealous of my happy warriors; they were dancing and singing some old foreign tune. Their giggles were a symphony of a long forgotten sorrow. They marched side by side, shoulder striking shoulder, confident in their own gait.
It seemed to me as if the warriors' subconscious knew that the day was abnormal. Their looks were fabricated because they defined the word, wreck, yet still their eyes spoke about their life. However, there was one thing that hadn't changed even that day; the transparent plastic bags in their hands that contained chopped little pieces of meat—fresh and wicked.

A thin warrior famous as Motu, the fat one, hushed them all silent. He pulled out the flesh of a dead mammal from the plastic bag and held it firmly between his fingers—outstretching his arms in the air to give a better view to everyone.

"Today I'll touch the enemy. Doston, friends, today the slimmest of us all will defeat the giant bird," Motu yelled. As the awkward silence slowly faltered, he lead his friends to their routine meeting point on the old bridge; a bridge that held another historical significance once but in the coming years, the rumors and whispers would only sing for the warriors. When Motu finally came to a halt, his bare feet sliding against the rough concrete, he upheld his posture with dignity and residue.

As the moment drew nearer, the nature spoke through its language—clouds clattered up in the sky, stealing Sun's sight to witness the extraordinary—smaller species of birds flew away instantly with their flocks and to prove my instincts correct, came my crime partner, death.

Motu kept mumbling some soft prayers to his God. For a second, I saw defeat in his eyes as they wandered here and there; first at his friends, then to the inconsiderate public and over to all the movements of early risers, too deprived in their deeds.

When Motu shifted the plastic bag on his arm, hanging it there steadily, it was imminent that he was still looking for reham, sympathy, from someone; anyone at all. He might not have known the extremity of his upcoming actions due to his immature age but his instincts knew everything. In a society filled with so many hardships, help was a rare case.

Even though Motu was too young to interpret anything, he felt that he'd have to become a hero to save the misery of his kind; his warrior kind. His slumped shoulder suddenly stood firm again; his courage and fortitude dwelling down his face. This was the first miracle—a child at nine knew the true rules and regulations of a leader. The second miracle, however, would be of greater worth.

"For years, we have been told to throw this meat down the bridge when the birds come. And for years, we followed. We have been the donkey who obeys and yet cries in a hateful noise. But today, I'll break this rasam, tradition. No more cowardice. The meat in my hand will not dive down this bridge today. No." Motu gulped down his anxiety and took a deep breath. "When the birds comes roaring down, I, The Future Bird Tamer, won't even flinch. We aren't lesser than anyone else. And today is the perfect day to prove it. Once the bird is tamed, our names would just be...warriors. We will no longer be that filthy and poor kind they spit on. Because we are the warriors!" Motu exclaimed with fierce determination and looked up towards the sky. Everyone had hooted for the slim and lanky boy who was their cruise out of pain. It occurred to me that in some people, rage and resolution is natural—so natural that they don't even realize that they're drowning in the insanity of it.

When I heard the calls of eagle from the sky, I knew it was my cue. I reformed into a vicious eagle and joined the assembled clan of Fate, who flew real high, waiting for the right time. Motu vs Fate was the biggest war in the other world; angels, demons, beasts, fairies, souls, everyone had come to watch it happen. Even the humans that walked by, implicitly gave Motu a nod.

When Motu finally outstretched his left arm in the air, giving an inviting look, the wings of the dominating eagles sprung alive with fire and they flew about in circles as they dove deeper down the sky.

Motu patted his bony hand over his small chest and challenged, "Come beast, come. Come down at me for your life, so I can tame you down to sleep tonight."

Suddenly, the world felt so quiet for a while. A humanly crowd was slowly gathering around then, anticipating the absurdity before their eyes as part of something bigger; yet in bewilderment, everyone could've been misunderstood as frozen statues. Finally, eternity ceased before everyone's eyes as the eagle in the lead called to his army to stay right behind. The eagle flew down, thrashing past the smacking wind, sinking forwards with its paws, slowly positioning for a meal. Meanwhile, Motu repositioned in his place; his right arm slowly draping at the front as a shield. When the eagle drew closest to Motu before reconciliation, both eyes glistened with each other's rage—or maybe it was the fear that gleamed in their reflection.

The moment the second miracle sprung up in front of my eyes, I was mind blown to see that Motu was true to his words; he didn't flinch.

I often think now that if it's possible for a Sun, the source of all the heat in the Universe, to cry in the memory of a warrior, then is it not possible that the leader of the clan, death, found the task of killing Motu petrifying? Perhaps, there are answers that are ought to never be revealed.

If I could change the course of Fate, I would change so many things; I would change the color of Motu's face when the eagle attacked him, I would erase those screams that erupted from his throat when death took away his life—I'd kill death with my own hands, for it was he, who left nothing of a warrior who deserved nothing but a smile. If I could, I would become a friend of my warriors rather than the agony giving beast I used to be.

As soon as I saw death smiling in victory in front of all the Fate workers, I intended on leaving without another dreadful memory. But maybe the Fate was playing with me this time. I saw the pale horrid faces everywhere. There were humored shrieks and hysterical voices of over-protected mothers—it wasn't an ignorable notion. I had spent centuries working in this world but seldom had I felt so tired. Hence, I had just left—I simply left Earth, resigning from my job.

I never saw warriors again. An enemy I was and an enemy I would be considered for the whole eternity. However, I did come to know that warriors had resigned from their jobs too. They no longer took meat to the bridge for birds. They've learnt to live by rules and fear of death. Yet, for the loss of their innocence, they never blamed their leader. Motu was a fighter who fought for others' dignity and better life.

***

This tale isn't about me or death or the cruelty Fate creates. As I mentioned in the beginning, it's about life and its people. You humans need to see each other as something more than the statuses and classes. You need to be brave, have courage and make everyone seem respectable in their own eyes. Sometimes, you humans forget what you really stand for, and that's the reason why some of us Fate workers have to become a rebel—for you and your kind.

The End.

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Author's Note: So, that's all there is to this story. I hope you enjoyed. If you did, make sure to give it a cute little star and comment down below because I really want to hear your thoughts about this story. Share this story around if you can, pleaseee.

I'm going to add one last thing to this story. Some explanations about the original people who inspired, about the job of those children etc. If you have any confusion regarding some part of the story, don't hesitate to ask. I'll answer your questions in the next update.

Thanks a lot for reading Eagle's Might.