War

Little patches of sunlight shone in from far above, coming in in the irregular shapes of the leaves. The golden beams illuminated clouds of dust drifting lazily through the air. The ground was blanketed with brown leaves and acorns, both of which crunched under my feet as I walked through the forest.
I walked between gigantic trees that stretched up into the sky, and then came to a wall of trees. The trunks met and joined to form a solid barrier of wood. If you walked along the trees, you would find they were arranged in a massive circle. Impenetrable. To a mortal, that is.
I walked up to one of the trees, and pressed my hand against it, fanning my fingers against the cool bark. Almost immediately, with a loud sighing sound, two trees folded apart, creating an opening in the wall. I stepped through, and behind me it closed.
The circular clearing was empty, save for one gigantic redwood in the middle, completing the fairy ring. I walked to this tree, and as I did with the wall, I touched the bark. The tree unfolded from the roots, unraveling until there was a sizable aperture in the wood. Moss-covered stairs led downwards into darkness. The only thing to be seen in the inky black below the threshold was a small pinpoint of soft green light.
I stepped into the tree, walking down the stairs towards the light. When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I saw the source of the emerald glow. Ten men were sitting on a tall half-circle bench sort of thing, and they all were glowing green. They were dressed in flowing green robes. The one in the highest seat spoke, his voice very old and soft. “You have been granted an audience with the forest gods, speak now, Vellian, tell us the matter of your visit,”
“War,” I replied, seeing the surprise on the god’s faces, “war is coming,”
The ice was slippery, but I easily held my ground. I was on a wide tundra of ice, walking steadily forwards. A huge shape appeared out of the endless blank whiteness and came slowly towards me. As it got closer, I saw it to be a gigantic polar bear, fur as white as the snow, mouth still pink from its last kill. Steam formed above its nostrils, instantly disappearing in the wind. We stared at each other for a while and then it spoke.
Its voice was majestic and deep, royal and commanding. It said,”You are Vellian? Come with me,”
I followed him for a short while, and then we came to a hole in the ice, a clean circle of dark blue. The bear said, “Follow,” and he dived into the hole, vanishing in a second. I dived in after him. The cold was incredible, but it didn’t bother me. Pluto, when it was at negative two hundred degrees Celsius didn’t even faze me, so this one degree water was nothing.
I followed him down deeper into the water, and we finally came to a throne. An old man was sitting on it, and I told him the same message I’d given the forest gods. War is coming.
Swirls of color danced around in my eyes, random objects spun in the air, perspective destroying itself. The objects morphed and changed and continued their insane dance.
I walked along a hallway with a red carpet. I don’t know when I got there, I was just there all of sudden, and then I was in a throne room.
“Stop!” I yelled, and everything halted and fell to the floor. “That’s more like it. Now, Jester, come out! I need to tell you something. A crazily dressed king came out from behind the throne, and looked at me with mismatched eyes.
“Yeeeeesssss?” he said in a drawn-out, bored voice. But when I told him the news, his eyes widened. Then, he started to laugh maniacally, and things started swirling again. He really didn’t care. I shrugged, and with a popping noise, I disappeared, and went to the side of my master, War.
War is tall, at least twenty feet. When you look at him, your eyes don’t seem to really focus on what his true shape, so others appear. Sometimes he looks like a knight in shining armor, or a fierce samurai. He rides a gigantic blood red horse, which he calls Battle. War’s voice is always the same, no matter what he looks like. A voice of a teacher, someone who shows you how to fight, but no matter how much he teaches you, you will never be as good as him. The voice of a master.
I told him that the gods had been informed. He took this with a nod, and then with a flash of red light, he was gone. To fight gods.
I didn’t watch. I didn’t like blood and gore, not like War does. Later, I would go and inspect the outcome, but it would be the same as last time. War always won. He invented fighting. You can’t beat him. Why do they even try, I wondered, looking out over War’s world, a flatland full of armies just standing there, and I wondered. Why?