//------------------------------// // The First Hero (GMBlackjack) // Story: Enchorus // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// The First Hero Nanoha Takamachi climbed to the highest point of a mountain made from the bone of a long-dead dragon. Alongside the massive ribs and femurs were numerous technological components sewn into the geologic skeleton. It created a mildly strange scene of smooth ivory ground dotted with centers of ancient, dead technology of a usually black-green coloration. She did not have to climb to get to the top of the mountain. She could have just teleported. It would have been nearly effortless. But she’d spent too much of her life using magic to get around—since she was in no rush, she might as well take a moment to just exist and appreciate the vast, alien landscape. From atop the highest peak, she looked out at the many biomes surrounding her. A land of mushrooms made of crystal. A land made of clouds frozen in time. A land of ground that spontaneously transformed into gears. And then, lastly, a rather normal section of land that appeared as a simple river valley. A single large city composed largely of plaster and mud brick. Walls surrounded the settlement which, to the inhabitants, must have been impressive when they were built. The inhabitants were probably aware enough of the nature of reality at this point to realize their walls were actually kind of pathetic. Simply looking up to see the dance of planets through the sky was enough to accomplish it. Raising Heart beeped. “That’s really it?” Nanoha said, narrowing her eyes at the city. “…Why would the Tower choose this… simple place to occupy this location?” She put her hand to her chin and let out a thoughtful hum. “At the north pole sits the Dark Tower itself, and at the south sits…” “Uruk,” Raising Heart reported. “That’s Uruk?” “Motifs match a historically accurate version.” “Well, I suppose that explains everything then, doesn’t it?” Nanoha couldn’t help but smile. Making a decision, she quickly set off down the mountain, approaching the city rapidly. She made no attempt to hide herself nor the fact that she was a woman—the latter of which she actually considered, seeing as the man she was going to see might have a bit of a reputation depending on where in his story he was. “Halt!” A guard on top of one of the walls said—a perfectly normal human in simple clothes called from on top of the wall. He pointed a spear at her. “What is your business here?” “I am High Sovereign Nanoha Takamachi.” Might as well make use of the title. “I have come to discuss matters of legend with your glorious king, Gilgamesh.” The man narrowed his eyes. “You will wait here.” Nanoha sat down on a simple rock, smiling up at the man. “I’m in no rush.” She tapped Raising Heart on the ground, creating a burst of magical rings—they did nothing, but the guard saw it, and would no doubt report that she was some kind of witch or goddess. Which was exactly the sort of thing that would get the king’s attention and give her an audience. As expected, maybe half an hour later, the doors of the city opened and there were four men in fancy red robes gesturing for her to follow them. “Our apologies, High Sovereign… please, you will have your audience immediately.” The inside of Uruk was rather bland by Nanoha’s standards. Most of the buildings looked the same and were of simple, brick-like construction. The people were entirely humans with a singular tone of skin and very little variation in the hair. This was a very simple, very primitive civilization. Yet, Nanoha could still see the sparks. Children ran around playing in an alley. A marketplace bustled with buying and selling. The local equivalent of a bar was throwing people out for having consumed a little too much. And, of course, there were the taller, more impressive buildings for the rich to live in—though, admittedly, even these were only impressive in comparison to the tiny brick-room houses everyone else got. Nanoha was taken up the steps of a ziggurat palace and quickly run to a dining hall. The table was large but only had two places set, and the food was clearly still being prepared. Nanoha did not care—she simply sat down and moved her eyes across the table to the King of Uruk, whom she shot a knowing smile. The man at the other end was clearly of the same race as the humans outside, but he was an absolutely supreme specimen. He stood over a head taller than any of the rest of his people—which made him an absolute giant when compared to Nanoha. Each of his muscles looked as though they belonged on an idealized marble sculpture and not a man, yet there they remained, trained and ready to take on any threat at any moment. Beyond this, there was a fire in his eyes that spoke of a divine power sourced from somewhere within himself. However, the hairs on his head had mostly gone gray, and there were many wrinkles through his features. He was spectacular to behold, but clearly not in his prime. “Mighty King Gilgamesh…” Nanoha said, folding her hands and leaning back in her chair. “You do not know the service by which you are graced.” “I know of the War for Existence,” Gilgamesh said. “My strength was more than capable of handling that girl’s message. I know of the stories and the worlds and the Tower.” “But do you know why the Tower chose to place you here, at the south pole, while it itself sits at the north?” Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes and frowned. “To be given such a place of honor is only right.” “Yes, but you do not know why.” Gilgamesh slammed a fist into the table. “Woman, you play games.” “It is only that you are far from the first King Gilgamesh I have seen. There are many stories in the world, but none are quite like yours…” Food was brought. Nanoha took up a glass and lightly sipped it. “It is uncertain, but yours may be the oldest. The first.” “My people tell stories, even stories that have nothing to do with me.” “But will their stories be remembered in the abyss of time?” Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes. “You speak to me with arrogance, yet you place me on a pedestal with your words.” “You haven’t been out among those who live and breathe ka,” Nanoha said. “Often, the things we say have two sides to them. You are a truly brash and violent man, even this late in your life. But it is also true that you are, by many metrics, the first story.” She lifted her hand into the air and created a holographic image of a bunch of people talking to one another. “There were surely stories before, but in the ancient Sumerian civilization, there came the invention of writing. And with writing came the ability to record stories forever. Among these people was a king, a man, Gilgamesh. The adventures he went on were clearly nothing compared to what was written down, but the story is what persisted. A story that birthed all others, pushing forward from the beginning… to the end. A story that was always remembered.” Gilgamesh stared at her for a few seconds before responding. “To be remembered for eternity is all I asked. To have my deeds be known! To have my great friend be remembered! To…” Gilgamesh stopped himself. “Is… is he?” “Rarely is there seen a Gilgamesh without an Enkidu, or an Enkidu without a Gilgamesh,” Nanoha said. “One story has birthed an innumerable number of brotherly bonds.” Gilgamesh stood up from his chair and turned his back to her. “An endless series of Gilgameshes and Enkidus… or what would have been endless.” He folded his arms. “I know we live in the end times. I felt it.” He whirled on her, slamming his fist into the table and breaking it in half. “The eternity you speak of is an illusion! It is not eternity; it is but a long life that ends nonetheless! The brotherly bonds… they too end.” “Stories end,” Nanoha said. “Reality does not. We will continue.” “But we are not immortal.” “I have lived—“ “You are not immortal!” Nanoha raised an eyebrow. “None are absolutely so. There are a few—a rare few—who have lived through the entirety of the Tower’s reign. I am not one of them. But even they may be killed after the Tower’s fall. It was the most immortal thing, and it has chosen to die, in the end.” “Chosen, chosen, chosen…” Gilgamesh shook his head. “I can offer you what I have. You can live as you are now so long as no one kills you. It is not a trick, nor is it special for you. It is something we give everyone.” “I do not wish for your immortality,” Gilgamesh grunted. “Your kind rarely do.” This comment triggered Gilgamesh to throw a fist at Nanoha, which an arcane barrier deflected. She didn’t even blink. Gilgamesh pulled his fist back and rolled his wrist around, glaring at Nanoha. “It’s hardly polite to punch someone who just offered you a gift,” Nanoha said. “You do not know me.” “That is where you are wrong.” Nanoha decided it was her turn to stand up, though she was still shorter than the muscular behemoth of a man. “I know you extremely well. You wrote down your story to mark the ages with what you have done. The consequence of that act is that there have been millions of Gilgameshes in prominent positions, positions that I had to deal with. There are great brotherly bonds, yes, but the price is that so many can know you. You recorded yourself. You gave us yourself.” “That was the first Gilgamesh!” “Like you didn’t write down the story too. It’s what you do.” Nanoha shook her head—but kept smiling. “But even so, can you say you regret it?” Gilgamesh’s fists relaxed somewhat. “No… no, the record of myself has gone far beyond what I ever expected it to do. It was just supposed to be words on a tablet that reminded everyone of who I was… and it ended up defining reality.” He looked at her. “I would have fought to Preserve that, had I been in a situation to do so. But the gods did not smile on me. I could not leave my city.” “It would have been an honor to fight alongside you,” Nanoha said, smiling sadly. “And… I did. In a way. Your sort… rarely fought for Collapse.” “Who could?” Nanoha folded her hands. “Maybe in the future, we can have the conversation about looking at it from their side… but not now. Now… just, know this.” She pointed a finger at him. “You will not be forgotten, even in a world without ka. Your story represents too much. The struggle to be moral in power. The fear of death in a harsh world. And, perhaps above all… the potential of enemies to become the closest friends.” She pressed her hands together. “That is your legacy, Gilgamesh.” “…It is far more than I expected.” “It is enough, isn’t it?” “…I do not know.” He folded his arms. “What I do know is that I am King of Uruk, and I will lead my people through strength and cunning in this new world, no matter what gods or mysterious strangers say. I have already left a legacy, you say? Then with the time I have left, I shall make a greater one. I am Gilgamesh, and the world of Nucleon is filled with monsters.” “There will be no shortage of glorious battles. Although… you may want to start before the Tower falls completely. Your glory may not be able to carry you afterward.” “At that point I will be an even older man! My time will come. It will be what it is.” Nanoha nodded. “Of course. If you wish for any assistance—“ “I need no assistance.” Gilgamesh folded his arms and let out a haughty, arrogant laugh. “I am the great King Gilgamesh! No monster will escape the terrors of my blade. I will emerge triumphant against any foe!” “I wouldn’t expect any less. Go, Great King Gilgamesh, First Hero. Use your strength and indomitable will to subjugate evil and rule your people. Be the specimen of humanity you were destined to be.” “Even if you disagree?” Nanoha chuckled. “Notice, did you?” “You have the gaze of one who thinks herself a hero.” He pointed at her. “But I will never be you, and you will never be me.” “I do disagree that all you represent is good. However… your story still matters. Still deserves respect.” She gave him a curt nod. “And while it will definitely go to your head, I still wish for you to know. How well you succeeded in being remembered.” Gilgamesh stared at her. “…Tell me of the other Gilgameshes. What feats we have brought to existence.” “Oooh, well, one of my best generals was a Gilgamesh actually. My people got to him while Enkidu was sick, and saved him. That Gilgamesh pledged himself to us as gods and, even after he figured out we weren’t, turned out to be a military genius. A lot of us in the TSAB, despite being a militarily focused nation, are rather soft and refuse brutal tactics even when they are most likely necessary. He did not have this problem whatsoever…” And so King and magical girl talked long into the night of the many, many Gilgameshes who had lived. The echoes of the First Hero across time.