Date: Tue, 3 Oct 1995 00:15:38 -0400 Reply-To: Andrew Duty Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Andrew Duty Subject: War of Ages Final Part Culo finished his drink and put the glass down on the table beside him. "Well, I'm ready." Methos nodded then followed him down the hall to the far west wing. A giant exercise room awaited them, though the weights and training gear looked as if they hadn't been used in years. A long tan mat lay in the center and Culo walked across to a table where his old two handed sword rested. Methos drew his broad sword and practiced a few swings as Culo peeled off the diner jacket he had worn all evening, his large white shirt bulging at the stomach. "You really have put on weight.", Methos observed. "Lets just say I have been enjoying my golden years.", Culo smiled and picked up the sword groaning as he did it. "Whoof, how did I ever use this bloody thing." Culo approached, Methos all ready waiting at the mats center. The stood together for a moment, with an unspoken understanding between them. With a quick sword salute, they began. Culo started as he usually did and Methos began his usual routine of blocks and feints. The two men fought like an old married couple, the battle was comfortable. Each man knew what the other would do. There were no surprises and no regrets. Culo's strength had waned but he still had the skill to keep Methos on guard. Methos slowed over the years but made up for it with cunning and intellect. The traded blows matching each other cut for cut, neither one doing enough to bring the other down. The room was filled with the sound of metal against metal. They knew each other so well, that the duel waged on longer then most any other of their kind. Sweat covered the two men like a second skin. Their cloths clung to their skin and both were near blind from perspiration burning their eyes. The men breathed in long labored breath the blows became less and less frequent. Culo backed away soon after. "Are....huff...are you thirsty?",he asked,"I will die....ah....of dehydration before this is over." Methos doubled over then nodded, "Yes...please....that would be...haa...wonderful." Culo slowly walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a couple of bottles of water. He threw one to Methos, then sat on a weight table emptying the bottle. Methos drained the bottle in seconds. "Ready?", he asked. "Not...yet.", Culo answered, "Let me......catch my breath." Methos waited a few minutes for Culo to catch his second wind. As soon as he nodded the two resumed their battle in the center of the mat. Once again, the ancient enemies tore into one another. Again neither one could gain advantage. Soon Culo had gotten close enough to to capture Methos's blade in his own. He thrust the sword down trapping Methos blade. Both swords were useless, Methos tried to free his sword while Culo mercilessly beat on him with his free arm. Culo swung with all of his might smashing in Methos's nose. Blood flooded from the wound, his eyes blurred, and his ears ran. Methos gave up fighting for the blade and threw him self onto Culo headbutting him square on the forehead. Both men toppled over their swords tearing into each other with their fist. Each landing blows, loosening teeth, tearing flesh, breaking bones. Exhaustion had set in on both men. Their shirts were torn and bloody. They each traded ever weakening blows, until they both charged straight into each other, knocking them both to the ground. Both men lied spread eagle on the mat looking up at the ceiling. They could hear the other gasping for breath and the sound of their bones snapping into place. Finally, Culo rolled to his side and looked at Methos doing the same. Time stood still as they looked into the face of their enemy. Then, Methos broke the silence. "Why Culo? Why didn't you take my head in Virginia?" Culo's face began to contort as he struggled to summon up the courage to respond. "Because..", Culo could barely get the words out, "Because in that single moment I realized if I killed you I would be all alone. Don't you see.....we are all that's left.", his eyes watered slightly as he continued, "After all this time, after all the battles and the fights, you are the only one left that understands what we went through. Out of all the new ones, there are only a handful that are even a thousand. I could count on my fingers the number over two, and with the Kurgan gone, we would both be hard pressed to think of another over three. It finally dawned on me that if you were gone there would be no one else that could truly appreciate what we have gone through." Methos lay there taking in every word. He could see the torment in Culo's eyes, and the words he spoke rekindled some of Methos's. A look of desperation came through Culo's eyes and his voice quivered as he continued. "Is this the final fate of those that survive this long? To lose all of our passion and our soul. For everything we were and everything we fought for, to die inside us, leaving these hollow shells. I use to be great, Methos! I had the strength to defeat any of our kind. I was the perfect killing machine. That was who I was and what I did. I was destined for the prize, I had purpose. Now look at me, I have nothing!" Culo fell back onto the mat. Methos didn't know what to say. "What happened to you Culo?", was all he could say. "I don't know!", he said sounding hopeless. Culo turned on his stomach and began crawling for the cabinet with the water. Methos followed and grabbed one for himself, then the two men sat backs too the wall. "Do you want to know what it was? Do you want to know what finally did it, Methos?", Culo waited for his nod then continued, "Its funny, actually. You remember when the Watchers were hunting me. Well several years after the hunt finally started wearing down I was on a road heading for London. I was cold and tired and extremely angry at how my luck had turned. As I walked there was this child in the middle of the road. I say child but he was in his teens, still quite young. Now, usually they would just get out of my way, back then I was considered a giant, but this one stood ground. It was raining and dark, a truly horrid day. As he moved into the light I could see he had a crossbow aimed for my heart. Then he demanded my money. Can you imagine? This little baby, barely off his mothers teat, threatening an ancient warrior over four thousand years old! I had killed people for just being in front of me but this time the humor struck me. I started laughing hysterically. The boy must I have thought I was mad, he ran off so quick. I must have laughed for days, never quite getting over it. Then, I suddenly realized that all of the anger and rage that fueled my heart was gone. My entire reason for being was torn from my breast. Then I began questioning myself. I thought about what I would do if I did win the prize. I asked myself why I killed and what I wanted. I had accumulated enough money to get anything I desired. I had killed so many and it all seemed so pointless. Whether I did it or not they would all still be dead. The satisfaction I had doing such things had long diminished and the more I thought about it the more it slipped away. Without my hatred I was nothing. I felt my strength fade away to nothing. My desire to play the game vanished with it. With nothing else to fill the void, the next thousand years were a living hell. Once I finally located you I felt I had one last chance to regain my passion. You were the one thing left in the world that I truly hated. I thought with your quickening I would be rejuvenated again. I would have a future and purpose. I spent the next two decades with but one thought, your head. I trained like I never had before. But when I had finally defeated you, I saw my hatred of you had vanished as well, leaving only the fear of being alone. So tell me Methos, what do you do when the hatred is gone?" Methos could hear the pain in his voice, as well as see it in his eyes. It was a desperate, thought twisted, cry for help. "There is always love." A smile rose to Culo's lips. He looked at the ceiling and laughed, "Its too late for me. I think some times you can only, truly, understand one or the other. I can see why the serial killer stalks, I can understand why Hitler did what he did, and I can see why a ten year old gang member kills indescrimetly. Those things I know and I have felt. Love however, I'm afraid will always remain a mystery to me." Culo slowly bumped his head into the wall behind him, then looked at Methos. "Tell me, oh great hero, what finally did it for you? What finally killed your passion and made you fade into myth?" "Not much really,", Methos snorted, "I had a good friend once. Probably the best friend I ever had. He came down with the same syndrome so many of the older ones got, he became a priest. So one day his city fell under attack by another immortal. He didn't fight or resist. He just peaceably marched out to him and let the man chop off his head. Once I heard of it I was outraged. At the time, I was a recluse myself but I still came out and played the game when I felt I was needed. So I began my hunt for the immortal that killed my friend. I searched for centuries but he had vanished. I finally got lucky and found his student. In exchange for his life he told me were I could find him. Soon after, My search had ended. I found out he had been hiding on holy ground. I charged into the church prepared to drag him off the ground if he wouldn't fight me. Then, to my surprise, I found him taking the vows of a priest and when I looked into his eyes, I saw my old friend. After that, it was a little difficult to continue. I hoped my name would slip away in time but soon found I had become a legend." "So what did you do? How did you cope?", Culo asked. "I started enjoying life. I can see now the value of the game. Its all we have that can make us see how wonderful this world ,and everything that is in it, is. Think about it. Would any of us appreciate life if we didn't know we could die at anytime. Don't you remember how much we took everything for granted before we knew that it could be taken from us? Now I take every bite as if it was my last. The constant threat of the game gives us the only opportunity we have to enjoy the life we have been given. Realize that, Culo, and that hell you say you have been living the last thousand years could finally be at an end." "So, do you still want my head?" Methos looked at him and smiled, "No, I don't want anyone's head anymore." "Well then," he said helping his rival up from the floor, "I guess we should get cleaned up then. I got a shirt I can give you." Methos nodded. Both men's wounds had healed but their clothes were mangled. Culo stopped and turned towards Methos. "I just want you to know......I'm sorry about your mate." Methos looked at his ancient enemy with new eyes. Gone was the barbarian warrior he had fought in his youth, replaced by an ancient, tired of his burden and regretful of his past. "Her name was Mya......and I know." The night passed quickly after the duel. Methos had cleaned up and was wearing the new shirt Culo gave him. They talked for awhile about old times and old friends, then Culo's hunger returned and they ordered a pizza. They spent the rest of the evening in the den, drinking beer and heckling the history channel. When morning came the two men realized that had passed a turning point in their ancient feud. As Methos left he hoped he would see Culo again. He was right after all, they were all the other had from the early days. And as Methos drove into the new dawn, he was felt good. The only constant he had ever experienced was change, and the fact that Culo had, gave him hope for the future, and for humanity. The End =========================================================================