by Aluric Dai
- 1 Page
There was very little left towards the end of time. A great chaos had taken the people, some say a plague. Others just war. Life was different than it had been. Now the people no longer fought for their lives or well-beings. They knew that they would all die soon. And that was the only thing keeping them alive. Their hope. Now they fought for ideals alone. The only question was what the final philosophy would be.
Of course there are always rebels, especially in a world driven by the existential as opposed to the superficial. And so it was that there happened to be a man by the name of Ira, who had taken a few of the children with him and walked away from the warring. His ideal was peace.
The people were outraged, feeling that they had lost the ideals of Ira and the children as well. So Asaph took a few men with him and pursued Ira to the east. Asaph’s ideal was the individual struggle for self-relevance. As for the ideals of the others, it is utterly unimportant.
Asaph came upon the place which Ira had built and brought his men inside. He asked the self-exile before him “Why have you left us?”
“Because there is no purpose in warring.”
“Certainly there is. Without it, how would we find the truth of our existence?”
“By discussing and coming to agreement.”
“Nonsense. There is no consensus but that which murder brings.”
“Consensus does not define us anyways. Each individual can define themselves.”
“I don’t care anymore. Leave me.”
“Do you realize what a waste of a human being you are?”
“I can see your worthlessness, if that’s what you mean.”
Ira stood up and came to Asaph, “We are each but different possibilities from the same base. What I am is also what you are.” Then he began to walk around Asaph in a circle, “Neither of us has any worth anyways,” a few steps more, “and we shall have even less now.” A few steps more, “As we are both to depart this existence” a few steps more, “of battling.” Ira took from his sleeve a knife and slit Asaph’s throat. Blood shot forth and the man slowly stumbled to the ground, gurgling with his eyes wide open. He was dead before he made it there, though, as the friends behind him opened fire and killed both of the speakers.
For you see, every ideal is fought over and even peace is dangerous.