Whispers Of Peace And War

20

For a second, Mythrd did not notice everything else changing about him. As though watching the world from a prison outside of time, he watched the trees of the forest grow, wither, die and become replaced by new trees. Mountains, in the far distance lowered and became nothing. New mountains, in another direction, crept up towards the sky.

Animals passed by, lived, died and decomposed before a sliver of a second passed. The forest disappeared, replaced by fields that rolled on and on, filled with crops that grew and were then cut a million times. A great city arose, then fell apart, becoming derelict and then disappearing in its entirety. Through it all, the Father of the Green changed, also. Growing tall, diminishing, rising again. The plants and trees that made its body changing, becoming vibrant, then dark and putrid before appearing fresh once again.

"This ... this is the life and death of a world." Mythrd could only gape at the scenes that flashed before his eyes at a speed that set his stomach roiling. "Is this how you see things? Is this how the world appears to you? So much ... I ... it's so much. Why then do you care for mortals that live such short lives?"

"Because we should." Looking upward, the Father of the Green raised a hand towards the skies. "Even that which seems forever, does not last. Everything has an end. It does not mean that we should not care."

Mythrd raised his eyes skyward and saw the darkness of night. The four moons, Iri, Kavis, Asa and Zeza, rose high above them. It looked odd to Mythrd, as though something was not in the correct place. Then Zeza crashed into Iri, breaking the smallest moon apart, sending pieces flying in different directions, some heading to the surface of Ch'Ack. Towards Mythrd and Iibar. A blinding flash caused Mythrd to turn his face away.

When he looked back, he saw a land very different from that he knew. Instead of great, green and brown forests, tall mountains, rustling fields of grain and villages and towns, he saw a flat, bleak wasteland. At his feet, Mythrd saw what looked like sand piling against his boots but, as he crouched, picking up a handful, he realised that he held grey ash in his hand. He let it fall, rubbing his hand against his hose.

He felt tears prick at his eyes. In the space of seconds, he had seen a world grow and then become nothing. Turning, he saw the remains of the henge, the three monoliths broken and fallen, but nothing else that showed how the land once looked. He felt the strangely warm twig and branch hand of the Father of the Green fall upon his shoulder.

"Is this it? Is this what the world becomes? A burned, featureless husk?" Rubbing at his wet eyes with the heel of his hand, Mythrd could not believe how the Guardians could stand seeing the world like this. "Is there nothing? Nothing you can, could, do? What is the point of living if this is how it ends? Is this the future of us all?"

"It is a possibility. An extrapolation of a million, billion events that could shape this end. Scales tipped one way could lead to this, tipped the other way could lead to a greater prosperity, or a greater disaster. But, with balance, the future could be brighter." Crouching, a strangely human thing, the Father of the Green began to waft a hand against the ash at their feet. "Know this, however dark the world becomes, there is always hope. Life."

Crouching beside the Father of the Green, Mythrd looked towards the spot that the immortal had cleared. There, beneath the thick layer of cloying, grey ash, Mythrd could see a hint of green and then a tint of colour. A little more wafting of the Guardian's hand and a flower stood revealed. No flower that Mythrd could remember seeing, but a flower, nonetheless. Life among this barren, desiccated world. He reached out to touch it, but pulled his hand back, not wishing to disturb it.

Then, the flower, the ash, the vast, sterile wasteland disappeared, replaced by the familiar sights of the green wood, the clearing and Cythrûn Henge. Jumping to his feet, he looked up to the skies and saw the four moons performing their lazy circle of the world. Everything appeared as he knew it. He almost began to laugh, relieved that he had only seen an illusion, created within a dream by the immortal Father of the Green.