Short Story Sunday: The Valley of the Kolpo

The valley of the Trickster echoed metal and motion in the early dawn. Greece’s sun, the luscious hand of morning, painted the clouds and the sky, and its fingers lay hold of the valley’s wall.
Below House Thirio was on the move. Met pissed on camp fires, phalanx lined themselves up before their leaders. Their shields, touched too now by the rising rays, rang out bronze light. The Bear banners were raised; the javelineers took their place in the rear.
Not too far off Blep, a Thirio runner, came back toward the camp by way of the shadowy side of the great Trickster corridor.
His Lord would laud him for the information he had gathered whilst spying on the Pouli camp, Vulture banners tattered, men tired. Easy prey for the Thirio legions. Bleop thought of the old oracle, “The news bearer is beaten or blessed,” and ran faster still, to his reward.
And then, by some divine mischance, his foot touched an unstable rock, his leg twisted right, his body left, and he fell. His head hit the valley wall, and he went down. He lay there a moment, flat on his back. He struggled to get up, but then he saw it.
Above him, blotting out the sky, was the shadow of a vulture against the rising sun. It was magnificent, a celestial omen. It frightened him. He tried to scramble away, and managed to get up.
So he ran all the faster, back toward his camp. He came to the first legions, beginning their march to their eternal foes. And he shouted to them, “I have seen the Vulture upon the sky. He overcovers everything! He is writ large upon the world. He overcomes all the beasts of the ground.”
The men became ill at ease hearing this. A few faltered as the sun rose high above them and Blep continued to speak. Coba, their captain, shouted at the runner, “Be quiet you.”
But he did not. Blep continued to speak about what he had seen. So Coba, seeing that Blep would not quit speaking, unsheathed his sword and severed Blep’s head. And then he looked at his men, with anger, and said, “Go forward you dogs. Do not listen to the madman.”
So the men went forward and soon met with the Pouli, with their shreaded banners, their sapped strength, breath heaving deeply through heavy armor. Yet, the Thirio, were repulsed. Soon Coba was cut down. After this the Thirio became cautious, and soon the Pouli took the offensive. They scattered the Coba, and the front line of the giant Thirion army collapsed; it fell in on itself. The retreat turned into a stampede, and those multitude of Javelineers were crushed, and the mighty host overthrew itself. And there was a great slaughtering of men that day.
Receive as they give
Random chance
Perception
And above it all Kolpo watched and turned to three of his sons. “Sons,” he said.
“Yes papa Kolpo?” they asked.
“What does this tell you of fate?”
“We receive as we give,” said the eldest.
“Yes,” Kolpo agreed.
“Life is dictated by random chance,” said the second son.
“Yes.”
“Our perceptions change reality,” said the third.
“Yes,” Kolpo agreed, satisfied at the wisdom his sons had gained.
“And also due to a child flying a kite,” said Kolpo’s fourth son, arriving sheepishly holding the strings of his kite.