Journey of the Soul

There was once a tale, a tale that humans were God's favourite creation —arguably his best.

But that was all it was. 

A tale. 

In this world lived beings far superior to humans —both mentally and physically. 

And all knew that. 

That tale was merely a story, a fable.

Humans were weak, they were cowardly and they were greedy. 

And despite knowing the truth… 

War waged to find the superior race. The race that would rule above all. 

Humans were forced to face the war, not because they wanted to be at the top but because the other races wanted to trample over 'God's Favourite Race' before all others.

Humans had no choice. In front of beings superior to them, in front of their might, they either had to lower their heads and be slaughtered without struggle or they had to wield weapons and fight —not in the hopes of victory, but in the hopes of survival for a little longer.

The races loved seeing the weak little humans struggle. The weak caved themselves in, hiding and shuddering in front of the higher beings, fighting to save their lives from time to time and barely defending themselves. 

But what most beings forgot was that it was the human weaknesses that kept them alive. 

Humans were weak, so they build weapons and discovered methods to keep themselves sheltered from the wild beasts. 

They were cowardly, they never fought a direct war. Instead, they relied on traps and schemes to weaken their enemies. 

They were greedy, greedy enough to sacrifice their own people to stay alive and earn more. Yet this helped to keep at least a few of them alive.

But above all, they were stubborn. 

Stubborn enough to not give up. 

.

.

.

Closed eyes, a broken arm and a fatigued figure.

Yet the strains of war couldn't remove the smile that lay on his face.

"Two hundred thousand war mongrels, twelve hundred blessed, seven thousand archers and four divine." A hoarse voice, broken and in pain. "Yet we stand."

"We stand atop their corpses." The man spoke. 

"But what was the point?" The voice weakening with each word. "Our kingdom is gone, our people dead, our history and our culture destroyed."

The man didn't lose his smile despite the heartbreaking words.

"Our kingdom may be gone, our people may be dead and the sacrifices of our forefathers might have been for nought." The man spoke. "But that is only for us, for our kingdom."

He laughed, but even that put a lot of strain on his breaking body.

"M-my lord." The other man cried, seeing his lord coughing blood —not caring for his own dying self. 

"We may be gone but humanity lives. Our sacrifices led to humanity's victory and even if we are erased from history, the truth of our sacrifices won't be lost." The man forced himself to give the biggest smile he ever showed. "Millions of beings of superior races, yet we are the true victors. Through cowardice, through trickery or through sacrifices… doesn't matter. In the end, what matters is winning."

He coughed blood again. 

"And we have won, Silas… We have won."

The man on the ground didn't deny it. Instead, he looked straight to the sky.

"Thank You, Silas." Said the victor. "Thank you for serving me through all these years, thank you for believing in me when no one else did, and thank you for being by my side even at the cost of your life…"

For the first time throughout the conversation, the man shed a tear. "Thank you for being my friend." Heartfelt words spoken with a pained smile. "Thank you."

The other man chuckled, causing blood to pool under him. He had been impaled by a massive spear, it was a miracle that he was alive for this long. 

"No…" He said. "Thank you for being my friend...Aaron. Thank you for not abandoning me."

The two friends felt their eyes slowly closing. 

"Let's meet again… if there is a next." Silas said, feeling his approaching end. "I feel the darkness enveloping me."

"If there is a next, we will meet." Aaron promised. "Rest now, my friend. I will join you shortly."

With a smile on his face, Silas closed his eyes for the final time. In the end, he didn't regret it. 

He was able to live his life by his friend's side, and that was enough for him. 

Aaron stood leaning on his sword, enjoying the soft breeze over his face. He had lost the sense of smell long ago, but the sense of touch was still there.

And that little breeze was more than enough to comfort him.

In his last moments, he enjoyed a rising sun —a rising sun of a new beginning. 

"A new beginning for mankind."

In the end, he died standing—with his sword on the ground and a smile on his cold face.

A sacrifice worth remembering. 

A sacrifice that led to humanity's survival. 

…

…

Throughout the ages, every lifeform had worshiped a being they believed in. 

For humans, they had many. Yet no human had ever seen their god in full glory. Only glimpses. 

But their belief, their god —gods— were not the only truth.

There existed multiple greater lifeforms, multiple aspects and multiple personifications that were responsible for the continuation of the cycle of life.

And one such personification —such an 'Aspect' felt sorrowful to see the sufferings the humans went through.

She was responsible for fostering them, she was responsible for their continued existence and she was responsible for their safety. 

She thought that she had failed. Against the other Aspects, other greater beings, she couldn't wage war. It was hopeless, she knew that it would do everyone more harm than good. 

She was in pain.

But then she saw hope.

She saw that humans used their trickery and their intelligence to their advantage. Hide, manipulate, trap, hunt and survive. 

This helped them live through the war. 

And when a man that led a Kingdom's army on his own and managed to finish off the remaining enemies caught her eye, her heart melted. 

She felt proud, as a protector and as a mother, that one of her sons saved the lives of many others.

Despite losing countless, he was able to bring an end to the war. If not for him, humanity's survival was grim. 

Even if a few survived, they would soon fade with time. 

But because of his sacrifice, there were enough humans left that even if civil wars among them erupted, humanity would be able to live through generations.

To her that man was a hero, a soul that she couldn't let be forgotten. 

She wanted to keep him with her, she wanted to keep his soul with the rest of the heroes, on a throne that she believed was worthy of them. 

But she couldn't keep a soul that took part in the war against the other races, the Aspects that protected those races would never allow it. 

So, she had to let him go. 

Go without being placed on the throne. 

But she knew that she could do something about him.

Something that even the other Aspects couldn't meddle with, directly at least.

With a caring mother's smile and a gentle voice, she spoke.

"Go child. I hope you will be able to bathe in glory even this time around."

And those words were what would be remembered by Aaron for all eternity.

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[A/N: This story is about being human and fighting as a human. So, if anyone was wondering if he will become a part of Rias's peerage or a devil in general, then no.

He will not.]