War and Peace— a short story about two men discussing war and peace

Two men sit atop the highest peak in the land. Their eyes gazing all there is to gaze upon. One man completely nude, his eyes orange like embers, a body musclebound with dark thick hair on his chest and nether regions. The hair on his head long and unkempt coupled with a long waterfall like beard. The second man wrapped in white cloth. Serenity in his expression. His eyes green pastures, his hair and beard long but civilized, his build long and slender with a power hidden inside.

The nude man speaks in a booming voice, “this is their natural state. You may try to help better them, but always they return to the glorious theatre. Always they play the part of monster and prey. That is what they are. Your attempts to change them are feeble at best; they will always return to me… Under my watchful gaze they destroy and plunder, kill and rape, devour and excrete. They are mine and mine alone.”

The clothed man responds, “I admit you are correct. They have always come back to you. Every man and woman has a capacity for untold violence and aggression if pushed past a point. I concede to you old friend in this matter. However, I must rebuke one thing you have said. What we are witnessing down there, the killing fields. That is not all they can be. With guidance, they have and will always move past you towards greatness. From death they will move towards life. From hatred to kindness. From destroyers to builders. They need only time and guidance. You are arrogant to believe you are all they flock towards. Even now we watch untold horrors in their war, but we also see sacrifice and brotherhood. Even in deadly combat you and I can both see some who are willing to fight for peace rather than war.”

A chuckle bellows from the nude man like the rumbling of a dragon. “What will those few do in the face of my many. Those tiny insects believing in a distant peace when all around them my hounds of hell have been unleashed… unleashed to wreak havoc upon the lands. What will those few do? They will be wiped out by their doom machines. What then? My legions will finally reign supreme. The strong will crush the weak. They will fight for me till they are nought but ash. Your legacy has always been of failure.”

The clothed man watching the bloodshed with keen eyes. His spirit and beliefs undeterred by what his companion had to say. “I think you are quite short-sighted. We have seen countless wars and countless peace treaties. You believe just because their methods of war innovate, they will eventually destroy their race. I know that to be false. You hope their weapons of mass destructions will evaporate them, but just as before this will not happen. I do not perceive eventual war and eventual peace as yours or mine failures or successes; these are simply cycles. At times there must be peace, and others there must be war. It is the nature of things ordained by a force far greater and wiser than we could ever hope to be. look into their hearts old friend. Just as they have the desire to kill one another, they also have the desire save each other. Even their opponents in certain cases.”

“Damn you” says the nude man in his naked glory. “They will perish. Every last one of them. It is the love of the violent dance that fuels the beast below. They love painting with blood. It is why they revert to me you fool. You will one day see them kill every man, woman, and child. I will see to it myself.”

The clothed man smiles whilst looking at his friends frothing mouth. “They will eventually tire of the bloodshed and move towards peace. You know deep down as well as I do that one day, they will perish, but it will not be of our doing. It will be the command of the one above. When Israfil blows the trumpet, and their judgement awaits. That is when they will move onto the hereafter. It will not be of our doing. You must temper your pride and arrogance. It will leave you disappointed as it has countless times before.”

The man in nude ponders on what is said. He violently shakes his head. His hair and beard whip his own face like lashes. His scream long and loud. He responds, “damn you philosopher! I wish to end you.” The man calms himself. “but who will I be without you. There are times when even I must humble myself. I am a slave to the one above. I have no control over this no matter how prideful I may seem. You are correct. We watched over countless wars and times of peace. They come and go. Each time I believe this will be the one to end them, but it is never the case. Just as you are, I am His slave. I come when I am deemed useful just as you are. Damn you.”

Both men turn away from the conflict below. They walk together quietly. The man in nude looking down, and the man in cloth looking upward.