A/N: This came out of a random little thought of mine. A lot of stories I’ve read center around the hero or heroine. Sometimes we look at the villain’s plans, and sometimes we actually get a look into the villain’s life—whatever he/she hates, fears, loves, etc. But I’ve never actually read a story that centers around the villain and what he thinks of a battle. So I wrote one. My main character, Kavar, (who is just a random character I’ve not developed at all) is the leader of an attack on the light warriors, or in other words the warriors fighting for good. He wants—not to be king or lord, but to please his master, and so he sends all the troops he can into battle. He himself doesn’t go in on his master’s orders, but he is allowed to sit and watch from above. These are his thoughts as evil is beaten back and good prevails—yet again. So here we go: Of Evil.

Of Evil

Kavar floated, high above the battle unfolding below him. Good on one side; evil on the other. But even he could see that the good side was going to win; it was obvious. He cursed the warriors fighting for good. The opposing warriors were being slaughtered by the noble warriors. He watched as his family, his friends, his advisors, his companions and even those he didn’t like fell. He watched as his sister, Namarne, was struck down by the sword of a warrior fighting for the light side. He watched as his good friend Tharios was shot down by an archer’s arrow. He saw the look of triumph that decorated the faces of the winning side, and he wondered about it. Did those warriors, standing triumphant over his fallen comrades, did those warriors know who they had killed? Did they stop to think about it? Did they pause for a moment to wonder if the people they struck down had families or friends, or lives? Did they really even care? Honestly, he didn’t know if his warriors cared about the other side either, but they should. What about the living? What would happen to them after the battle? Those families who had lost loved ones, the people who lost friends? Kavar had to wonder, sitting on his cushion of air, if anyone would ever care at all.

His warriors had been beaten, and their bodies had been carelessly burned. And as Kavar looked down on the winning army, he saw triumph in their faces. He also saw victory there, the gleefulness that came of the thought that they had won. He spotted grief for lost loved ones in the gazes thrown toward their dead. He saw no grief directed towards his fallen friends and family. Except…He looked again. Yes, there was someone. As Kavar watched, the light warrior cast a glance toward the enemy dead, and Kavar detected sadness in that gaze. Maybe not everyone cared only about their own, Kavar thought. Maybe someone spared a thought for distant people in distant places who would soon be receiving the news of a death. Kavar marveled that one of the warriors from the side of the light—the side of good—would spare a glance for the fallen dark warriors.

As he looked down on the camp that night, Kavar reconsidered. Maybe he had fallen in with the wrong crowd. …But no. His heart lay here, with the dark warriors, with the side of evil. It didn’t mean he had to be heartless, did it? He cast a sorrowful glance toward first his own dead, and then the enemy’s dead, and he turned and flew away. He could be evil, but he could be evil in his own way. He would be evil in his own way.