They had been brothers once, but that was long ago, and so far away from this world that it meant little to either of them. In truth they both would have been hard pressed to recall it, and if they had it still would have been meaningless.
Although it may have seemed to any unknowing watcher, that they were only perceived as good, or evil, they did not perceive one another in that way. Both understood the concept of good and evil, but neither thought of themselves, or each other, in those terms. When they had chance to meet, such as now, only the figure in the distance could perceive their purpose, or even understand it. They were only good and evil, in the human minds that inhabited the earth, which was far from this barren desert. That was the only medium humans would be capable of considering them in.
The moon traveled slowly across the dark sky as they continued to circle one another, and was replaced by two fiery suns that crossed the sky, only to be once again usurped by the greenish cast of moonlight. Still they made no move, seeming to speak instead with their eyes, and their bodies, as they circled each other. Even during the day, when the two suns had traveled across the sky baking the desert sands, and causing shimmering heat waves to rise from the surface, no sounds of any kind broke the silence that held the desert scene.
When the suns were once again rising from opposite directions to travel the alien sky once more, they stopped and faced each other. They nodded almost imperceptibly and clasped their muscled arms together, hands gripping the elbows of the other. The contact was brief, and when both had withdrawn their hands from the other, they drew back a few steps and paused.
They spoke aloud for the first time, but not with anything that resembled words, or any type of language. A guttural utterance, more felt than heard. When they finished they both nodded once more and stepped even farther apart.
Far in the distance the sounds of hoof beats began to pound in the strangely lit morning air. They grew louder until the two steeds suddenly appeared and pounded into the small clearing of sand in which the two young men stood. Foam dripped from their open mouths, and their flanks ran with sweat. Their eyes rolled as they slowed; each approaching the rider for which it was intended, and once there waiting to be mounted.
Michael turned, and walked to where the golden sword still quivered in the sand. His muscles bunched and stood out, as he pulled the sword from the rock that it lay buried in beneath the sand. A similar beaten silver sword swung from the side of the dark steed, in a long leather sheath. The Defender turned, and withdrew the sword from the sheath and turned back to face Michael.
Michael hefted the sword only momentarily, and then slipped it into a leather loop where it hung suspended from his side. The Defender followed his lead, and then, nodding once more, both remounted their steeds and sped off in opposite directions through the desert sands.
Those assembled seemed to melt, rather than actually move, slowly backwards into the desert. Within seconds, miles, instead of feet, separated them.
Minutes later sounds began to flood into the still desert, almost overwhelming in their intensity after the deep silence that had held for so long.
The pounding rhythm of steel against steel rang out from both directions assaulting the previously still air, and the sounds of thousands upon thousands of whinnying and snorting mounts filled the air.
Great clouds of dust began to form in the distance from both directions the riders had galloped off to. The twin suns continued their relentless travel across the sky, and presently the moon once again cast it’s cold light upon the desert.
Fires could be seen burning in the far distance, on either horizon. It almost seemed as though the suns had set the edges of the desert alight as they had sunk in the sky.
Much later the twin suns seemed to rise out of the fires, and began to sweep across the sky. The clouds of dust in the distant rose higher, and the ringing of metal against metal ceased, only to be replaced by the sound of thunder produced by the hooves of the thousands of steeds that were now racing across the desert floor towards one another.
The steeds reeled and reared as they once again met where the sands still bore the scar of the sword that had been plunged through them into the rock below. Behind each of the young men, thousands of warriors sat on their rearing and snorting steeds. Michael and the Defender faced each other across the sand.
The warriors behind each withdrew beaten iron swords from where they rested in the sheaths suspended from their steeds, and held the flame blackened weapons at the ready.
Michael looked across the vast ocean towards the figure who now stood in front of the golden throne. The eyes showed the sadness the figure felt, but no sound came from the figures mouth. The figure lifted its arms slowly into the sky, and apart, as though each hand was pointing towards the opposing armies. When the arms reached their highest arc, they began to drop back down to the figures side. Once the arms were once more at the figures side, it sat back down on the throne, staring across the ocean briefly, and then nodded its head decisively.
The battle began in
