Child's Gateway

I've done a blog post before based on an image.  Doing some browsing, I came across another image with a tale to be told.  Something about the look on the child's face tells me that he has no fear of what is before him because whatever is behind him is so much worse.

It was a typical day at school.  Pretty much the same as every other day I've had for years.  The same jerks calling me the same names.  The same giggles from the girls as they walked past me.  The only saving grace was the fact it was Friday.  I wouldn't have to tolerate any of this for the next two days.  There would only be may father to avoid.  Since this Friday was also his payday, he would be easy to avoid in his drunken stupor all weekend.

With my mind on caring for myself and other plans, I failed to notice anything different about the side alley I usually took on my walk home from school.  That is until I noticed a shuffling sound in front of me.  The sighing of cloth against cloth seemed to fill the alley.  Stone ground against stone under my feet.

A light popped on the ground.  It was like a campfire, but, instead of reds and oranges, it was pure white.  A large figure with horns, one broken, emerged from the darkness as the white flames grew in size and brightness.  Around the big, horny dude stood a growing number of what I could only think of as mummies.

I didn't move.  I stood completely still.  First due to fear, then from the shock of the unreality of what I was seeing.  Something in the back of my mind was telling me they couldn't see me if I stood completely still.  To this day, I don't know if this was true or not.

As I stood there, a voice spoke.  I didn't exactly hear it.  The words seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.  They entered my mind without bothering to go through my ears first.

"Welcome traveler.  Before you is a gateway.  A passage to other realms and realities."

As the voice spoke, the fire continued to grow.  However, the top of the flame never got any higher.  The ground below it began to sink lower and lower.

"Beyond is more than you can imagine.  There will be women that will adore you.  Riches worth more than anyone could spend in a lifetime.  Your plate will overflow with enough food to feed entire countries.  All that you desire is yours to claim."

"Will there be pain?"

The large guy with the horns almost seemed startled.  "I'm sorry.  What?"

"Will there be pain?  Will there be challenges to overcome before I receive any of the rewards you mentioned?  Will there be a risk to my immortal soul?"

"That is a question your kind has never asked before.  I cannot say I know the answer.  It is something you will have to step into the purifying fire to discover."

"I don't believe I will get all the wonderful things you described without some kind of price.  Some kind of toll paid."

I looked over my shoulder at what was behind me physically and metaphorically.  To escape it all.  The teasing.  The giggles.  The eyes smiling, not at me but at my expense.  The silence from those that were supposed to protect me.  The drunken beatings I have witnessed and been given.

I knew any price to be paid to get away from it all would be worth it.  Even without the rewards the horned figure promised, getting away from this place would be worth any price.

I stepped in to the flames and the world vanished.

If you were to give a name to the creatures in the picture, what would you call them?

Wars

It seems like there has been war as long as there has been humanity.  Wars over the possession of land.  Wars to remove tyrants.  Wars to reclaim stolen fortunes or beautiful women.  Wars for food, or over religious tenants, or defending the rights of the people.  Whether or not is good for anything, war has been around forever.

With that in mind, it is understandable that two powerful figures would go to war between themselves at some point.  Today's story is about two powerful wizards that each create an army of their own and wage war against each other.

Flags flutter from the tops of tall poles.  Tents line each side of a field.  A field that was once covered in beautiful flowers.  Now it is full of craters and stains.  The grass is trampled and contains marks where bodies have been dragged away.  As the sun rises over the camps, a single figure stands before the largest tent on each side.

The figures begin chanting in an ancient language.  While their tones are similar, the words themselves are different.  They gesture and move their arms in similar yet varying fashions.  The chanted words begin to shape alter reality.  Air shimmers and shifts.  Wispy clouds overhead start building and becoming looming storms.  The ground itself moves underfoot as tremendous powers are flexed and released.

The ground in one camp rises more and more.  Small bumps become mounds.  The mounds form new, unnatural shapes.  Arms develop and muddy bases split into legs.  The humanoid piles of solid and grass begin to line up in ranks between their camp and the field.  Branches and twigs gather themselves into piles.  The piles become laid out in skeletal shapes.  Smaller pieces of wood form hands and fingers.  They grip wooden bows that form themselves in the palms of the developing archers.

The magic being wielded on the other side has a different effect.  Instead of rising up, here the ground splits open.  Skeletal hands of true bone reach out of the chasms and grasp the ground above.  With a grip as strong as Death itself, the multitude of hands grab the dirt and pull.  Arms of bone begin to emerge from the holes.  The arms are followed by torsos and heads as skeletal warriors of every type and size emerge ready to do battle.  Some have swords strapped to their thin waists.  Others have bows slung over their bare shoulder blades.  A few are dragging studded clubs on the ground as they lurch towards battle.

Silence echoes across the land as the wizards each complete their summoning spells.  Two unnatural armies face each other.  The minions of each side advance towards the field.  The commanding wizards stand and watch.  Looks of concentration on their respective faces.  Eyes darting from inhuman soldier to soldier.  Slow advances become rushing charges as each army fills the field of battle.

Suddenly, the one sound that could bring the entire conflict to a halt booms across the entire realm.

"Sam, honey.  It's time for dinner.  Come inside and clean up."

A child stands up, multiple figurines and toys at their feet.  "But Mom, I just started having fun."

"Dinner time is now.  You need to clean up and wash your hands.  If there is some light left, you can play more after you eat."

Did you ever play any war games as a child?  If so, what were some of your favorites?