In the beginning...

I was merely a sapling. The world was young and lush and green; the sky was deep and unclouded. My friends were the wind and the stars, my family the trees and plants. With all my naivety, I loved life.

I was always an apt student, and would observe with great attention to whatever crossed my path; a family of squirrels, a darkly pleasant beetle. For years I was protected, surrounded by great beings much wiser than I. Between my observations, they would teach me, would whisper secrets of the world into my ears. I absorbed this knowledge with gratitude. I do not believe I have ever forgotten any aspect of my time here, but at certain points I would have to force things from my mind.

You see, time passes quickly for me.

A century is a day; a year, but a second. Unnecessary, the life and times of the birds that nest in the limbs of my neighbor repeated a hundred times over; unnecessary, the falling of a leaf to pass through my mind endlessly. I simply picked these things, these “extras” out. I feared that if they hadn’t been gone, this repetition would have driven me to madness. So I stood, and I watched, and I learned. I soon thought myself to be supremely intelligent, I thought myself to be gifted; I knew the pattern of life itself. But millennia flew by and I found myself bored. My elderly mentors could teach me no more, or is it they would have me learn no more?

Decades passed. I was disappointed, not only in myself but in the world. The elders were sick, they were senile, they were dead. And I had learnt it all, there was no more to offer. I was angry. I was vicious. I called for the wind to run at an amazing speed, I called for the sky to erupt in water and golden death. The earth shook violently.

Then, from the torment I had caused, I heard a cry. It was a new sound to my ears, and I thought, this is no creature of mine. I turned my mind toward this new creature, and saw with divine vision its strange form.

This creature was not tall, but it stood on only two legs. Of course, with how highly I had thought of myself, I did not think this an incredible feat. Bears were known to hold themselves erect with only two legs... But oh! What was this? There were more of them coming now, the new-creatures. There were some with long manes of fine black fur, some with short, some with none at all. Their skin was the colour of warm mud, their eyes the colour of bark and ash. Some were delicate and lean, others more dynamic. Nevertheless, I thought them all to be beautiful.

I observed these beings. They were different from my familiar creatures: they had skill, they had organization. They were not birds, they were not fish, they were not wolves, not bears, not mice. They were an entirely new concept to me, and I enjoyed viewing their antics. Life with them could never be arid.

In time I think I grew to love them. I would cry when they cried, laugh when they laughed. I would be there at their rituals, I would cheer their victories. There were particular beings that had the same skill as I; they would observe. I believe now that they could truly see me.

Later, our roles were reversed. Though I was not in size the greatest spirit there, I seemed to emanate a powerful force. They would begin to come to me and pray at my great trunk, and I realized they had come to a terribly false conclusion. Foolish as I was, I did not argue with this conclusion, but rather took it and used it. There was an understanding between every mind in this world, though few rarely caught its essence. I knew what the beings were thinking. I was their god and they were my people.

In a way, I was a good god. If my people were hungry, their crops would flourish. If my people were sick, a miraculous herbal cure would be found. My people loved me and I loved them back.



The time came when my people became involved in a war of greed and pride. Revolted as I was, I still urged them to try not to. My small pushes were effective to those that had the certain amount of understanding, and they in turn passed it on to the others.

Despite my effort, the war persisted.

Tiny battles were fought day and night. When I could do no more, I shut myself in. I cried for those that were lost on both sides. They were all really my people, all with the same black hair and dark eyes, the skin that reminded me so of a spring morning.

I wept and wept, and to my people it seemed as if it would rain forever.



After several months the war was still going, as brutal and fiery as ever. Fever spread vastly among both my people and the people of the other lands, and in my seclusion I had no wish to stop it. It seemed at that time my heart and mind were in two separate places. With a leap of courage, I brought myself to go back to my old habit.

I observed.



It was a disgusting incident, the whole war. I watched carefully the actions of my people, and discovered there would be a large confrontation soon. The warriors planned their attacks, built their strong weapons, and prepared. They had small clashes occasionally, but for the most part stayed away from each other.

Meanwhile, I waited; this was not hard, for my fury was steadily building. With each new death, I did not shed a tear but gained a scowl. I once again became a raging sapling.

When the day arrived, I coaxed the wind to roar and the sky to turn black. It was hailing as hard as I dared. Still, my people persisted; they marched on then charged at each other. My anger grew and grew, and so did the storm. The wind became strong enough to push the men down; soon enough they were being violently whipped around. In my fury young trees were uprooted, the ground became a muddy wasteland, and villages miles distant from the battleground were being battered to shreds, but the men still brought themselves up, hollering fierce battle cries. The fight had barely begun and yet, due to my own actions, each warrior was supplied with numerous wounds.

I screamed and howled at them to stop this fight, stop this rubbish, but how could they understand? They slashed at each other with spears and weapons made of the sharpest stone, and there were so many men dead and wounded that the ground began to tint with crimson. I now wept as hard as I could, begging them to please stop. Would you drop your weapons, would you come back to life, would you go back home and make everything back to the way it was?

They did not stop.

I let out an agonized wail and then completely lost control of myself. Before I knew it, I was launching great stones at the warriors, I was drowning them in water, I was even tearing them limb from limb. It was I who would not stop that day; not until every living creature in that wasteland was dead. When the job was complete, I drifted around, agonized, in shock at what I had just done.
THEN END

That's amazing, extremely powerful.

Thanks, just so you know, that was all the story had... THE END

that was awesome!