Upon our distant perspective it all seems normal and calm. The cool breeze flipping leaves of trees and swaying grass to an unknown symphony. The river, the illustrious conductor to the life around and inside of it. However, upon closer inspection, a war tears at its very delicate fabric. A war keeps it alive.
The walls of an unknown city rise from the ground, holding soldiers within. Millions of warriors who are controlled in numbers by unknown gods as they are forced down a road to the east, to a coast they have seen before. They are carried here on the wind, but today, the wind brings a new army.
The war drums sound across the horizon, moved forward by chariots with legs of light that scorch the earth beneath their powerful foot falls. Their legs literally ripping the air apart as they move and the size of the army behind them moves so swiftly that they move the air around them.
Peacefully, the walled city rests. Praying for the destruction of the walls. One day they will fall. One by one, line after line they are released upon the road that they once knew so well. The road giving up its treasure as I am the only stranger who walks it. The only stranger that knows its secrets. I stayed for the spoils of war.