Behind the Clouds

Bombs and Smoke

War never was a very pretty thing. Even when it was glorified, celebrated and revered by society itself, war was never an attractive nor wanted thing. Bloodshed, destruction and death were always things that a nation tried to ultimately avoid. Widespread suffering and the collateral damage of a large-scale conflict had always been the greatest opposition to any well-established nation or governmental system.

So why did nations always have to go to war?

Simmering within his brain, sitting within the synapses of his neurons, Meliodas couldn't help but focus on that one key question: why did nations go to war? If war was such a terrible thing, filled with so much death and so many unwanted consequences, why did it always end up breaking out? Why did governments, the conveniently cushioned rulers and monarchies, always get their people to fight it for them?

Ever since the start of this war, fueled by the disappearance of that prince, those questions had been on loop within his mind. Repeating on a reel, echoing within his thoughts, Meliodas couldn't escape those questions without answers no matter how hard he tried to. Constantly, he was thinking about why this war was happening.

Maybe that was why he had turned down the king's request to join the war effort. Maybe that was why he had gone into hiding, using fake names and establishments to keep himself hidden. Maybe that was why he was now here, trying to contain the damage as much as possible, watching as town after town fell to the warships and corrupted armies, storming and raiding and burning all they could in their conquest for victory.

War was never a very pretty thing. But that didn't mean it had to be completely abhorrent. At least, that was how it used to be.

Now, things were different. Now wizards and witches sold their very humanity to ruling governments and monarchies that couldn't care less about them. Slowly, gradually, they would dwindle out and no longer exist. Slowly, gradually, they would become unrecognisable monsters, hunted and slain by the very people who had used them in order to win their wars. All of them knew that; all of them were dreading that day.

But not Meliodas.

Becoming something unrecognisable, selling himself out to the service of the crown, was the last thing he'd ever do. Especially when the war they were fighting was nothing other than a childish squabble, fueled by every excuse under the sun just to avoid seeing the truth behind it all.

Every time he returned from that dark place, Meliodas would always feel traces of it lingering. Returning home after seeing the effects of the war was never a pleasant thing - especially when it involved an equally unpleasant thing. Going to that place reminded him of his own gradually lost time; using his power to survive within that hell zone was just as risky as those magicians who used theirs to fight in wars.

"Whoa you look rough," Hawk was never one to hide his honest reaction whenever he returned from the black door. No, Hawk was always the one who was the most honest about it, the two more or less tethered together by fate.

Nevertheless, Meliodas couldn't even bring himself to respond to the tiny flame. Aware of how much he had lost already, knowing that he probably did look a right mess, all he could do was plonk down on the chair in front of the fire place. Letting the darkness recede, sucking back in the power he'd used today, always was a somewhat painful process. But by the fire, at least, it was made that tiniest bit more bearable.

Gritting his teeth as he felt the sharp sting of his darkness shrinking in on itself, Meliodas threw his head back, eyes closed as he faced the ceiling. Complete concentration was needed to do this efficiently - at least if he didn't want to draw too much attention to how painful it was.

"You know, you shouldn't keep flying around like that," Shaking his head - or rather rippling his flames - Hawk sighed as he looked at his friend, "One day you won't be able to return to yourself. You know that as well as I do." Now reaching for a log, which Meliodas noticed to be a new addition to his little fireplace, the fire demon continued with a wide grin, "Isn't this great?" Tapping on his piece of wood, he added, "Elizabeth put these here for me!"