No Peace..

-terenee- Mon Mar 11, 2013 3:42 pm

**A birdsong can be heard in the distance among the snow.. All those that hear can not help the urge to look for this creature, it's song is so rarely heard past the clanging of blades and whirring and fizzling of spells on the war torn island of Anphillia. Alas, but it's song can be heard for the thick fall of snow veils around this rare sight and renders only a sound. As the most serene of Anphillia or the weary resters of warfare take respite and earn solace from the song of this imperceptible herald of peace, they take a moment of calm and relaxation they've not known in an age, all with the call of this little beast.. Without warning and in a moment inside a moment so fast that it blends with the cacophony of silence then shatters it as a young love's broken heart.. a falcon cries and the soft fall of snow turns to a powerful swoop of wind and with a sudden twig snap and fateful brief chirp of desperation from this once beautiful bard of nature; it's song ends. All whom could hear the melody and then the deathly event to follow lay now with bleak desperation as they briefly knew a reality so grand and clear that their hearts knew no hate or war, see finally the songbird.. not in whole but it's soft white feathers falling down with the snow, so pure that without the blood spattered upon their surface to contrast the thick white flakes they would be as invisible as their fallen impressario was in peace. **

The soldiers tricked by this peace know that this is indeed the way of Anphillia. A warrior of any militia can not lay idly too long to enjoy the sounds of peace, for they may be not but the foot falls of war.

**All wind dies and the blood soaked feathers lay still on the wet snow of Fort Axfell. What just a moment before seemed to be not but a shadowy corner with deep snow now appears to be a man, he was standing there in concentration as he usually does to hone his skills of stealth, now he is frozen with dismay. He pauses at the scene that he had just heard and witnessed, even though the emotions of his heart often find first motivations of greed and power he can not help but be stunned by this ominous event, knowing the tragedy that even one lost songbird can cause in the hearts of hope. This man, who is first a man of the woods, breaks his trance to step closer to the feathers now before him in the snow. It seemed that the very flow of nature was interrupted at the demise of this animal as it's song's end caused a discomforting reality to come about; life feeds upon life and war is the way of men, hin and mer in kind. The ranger kneels and extends his hand to pull the broken armor of this bird from the snow just as the gusting winds return and lift it from the ground..**

**The breeze carries the piece once more aloft into the cold air of Anphillia, as it blusters and blows throughout the Grand Forest it loops to the earth and back in the air as the twirling chain of a morningstar. It passes the dire beasts and druids whom despair and pause to watch and see it soar in and out, up and down, still clearly contrasting the pure white snow with the speckles of blood sustaining. Far in the sky it has come and then as if designed the air lets alone the burden of the hunt and it falls softly down again toward the bed of snow upon the valley, just as it settles there seemingly at peace, two riders of heavy horses trod past without noticing the feather, wind from their great speed lifts it in one last arc rising high into the sky and once again falling peacefully toward the ground.. but as it approaches it finds a warm hand extended a mere few feet off the surface of the snow, and there it gently touches, at final rest.**

**This hand, which belongs to a heart most true, filled with love.. draws the same terror from this broken wing as the dark and avaricious woodsman. For in the heart of all, both good and evil, lies a fear of loss and defeat. Even though such is not true the thought of that precious loss inpires hopelessness and despair. So it is that there is now a keeper of this symbol, cherished as a reminder of loss and the futility of war as much as a confirmation that such evil must exist, but what is unknown to all; the falcon, the songbird, the druids, the ranger, the forest so grand and the heart so true is that all mourn the peace lost in war and all are bound to seek it forever, for peace is simply the absence of war, the action to attain the former is to embrace the latter.**