Midweek, Sagas, Scenic, Short story

My own world.

I had offered the world temperance and silence. For it to be as it willed, so long as I be given the same opportunity.

For a while, that is how things were. Until the world grew in its greed. And those who lived within it grew in an ever agreed consensus amongst themselves that they are right, for they had purged or long since silenced all those who would oppose.

The home which I had made upon the lands which I had earned and worked was surrounded in the silence of the woods.

A silence broken by those who would force their will, the rights they had made their own, the truth they told themselves was so in the face of silenced opposition.

And so they came.

They trespassed upon my world, that which I had made to make it all their own. And backed by all they brought themselves, they demanded all things be theirs.

Outraged their people grew at hearing my response. The knife through the hearts of the invaders, the trespassers, the belligerent thieves, all of this was received as a surprise by those whom I slaughtered.

It was a shock to those who ran away.

Incensed they were, that their trespass would be punished, that their truth be defied as lies.

And so they came to extract their revenge, to enforce their unbroken will.

And so I repeated what brought them in the first place, for they have only the certainty that they are right, just and strong. I had earned my world in violence, blood and sacrifice.

So too shall it be kept, until my blood seeps into the earth. And my children will hold the land and their own swords against the same foes.


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