[ WP ] Two sworn enemies reminiscence

The sound of the feathered pen, dipped hastily in ink, carving the heavy-handed signature of crowned prince into the gilded scroll echoed along the length of the great wooden table. With an air of purpose, the white robed and gold tasseled high-priest turned mediator applied a silken screen to prevent smudging as he shuffled the parchment down the length of the table to the next signatory. 
 
 The treaty was meaningless; it was not going to bring about the end of the war. There was no war to end. What started nearly forty years ago as two small neighboring countries in a border dispute, escalating into skirmishes and raids was not a war. Other countries, with vulturous tendencies, invading the two countries while they squabbled, those were wars. They had a start with the invasion, and a conclusion with the retaliatory conquest; battles were fought and their outcomes changed the two countries into empires. 
 
 `` The treaty is not a total waste, General.'' The short boulder of a man sitting across from him said with a respectful tone. `` No more will the sons of Emeria dream of a glorious death at the hands of Ventus invaders.'' The priest moved the scroll past another Emerian signatory at the opposite end of the table whose name was irrelevant. 
 
 `` A strange dream, that they should look forward glory in the battlefield that has had absolutely no purpose.'' He lamented, showing the barest hint of his forty years of frustration. `` In a way, General, it is soldier's gamble. That he should be a part of the thousand that repels the tens of thousand, and not one of the hundred thousand stopped by the ten.'' The other general nodded with respectful contemplation as the scroll was passed once more. 
 
 `` To think, that two men could work so hard, and consign nearly five-hundred thousand men to their deaths for nothing more than that simple scroll filled with the names of men who will be forgotten before our children's children give their first salute.'' The short man nodded once more. One of the nobles to his left sneered his nose and thought to correct that assessment before wisely reconsidering his position and averting his gaze in silence. 
 
 `` I would wager that they will not forget my name, nor yours. This is our commendation ceremony, for our years of brilliant service in forging not one but two empires so prosperous that its people are divorced from from the horrors of war, famine and plague.'' This time it was he who had to nod. The priest had rounded the table and was passing the scroll down the line of Ventus Signatories. 
 
 `` You had so many opportunities to take the ridge, especially when most of our forces were withdrawn to capture Nidan.'' The short man paused at the question for a moment before replying. `` Nidan was the first of our opportunistic opponents. Though they never attacked us out-right, they were as much our enemy as yours in that they embodied the dangers of our neighbors. It seemed prudent to not over-extend when the carrion feeders were at our heels. You had a better opportunity when Kollon launched their surprise attack coming over our southern mountains, why did n't you seize it?'' 
 
 `` Pride. Mostly. I wanted to defeat you on an even field, not when you were hobbled by carrion feeders as you say.'' The mouths' of the nobleman within earshot all fell agape as they heard the treasonous words. `` It also would have been a mistake as Borlan and Derilan came at us from both sides as soon as you subjugated Kollon. There is no way we could have survived a coordinated assault from the three of you.'' The priest set the scroll, laden with thirty decorative signatures and only one inscription of consequence, before the Ventus General. 
 
 `` I saw that you had seen what I saw when Ventus defeated Nidan; that this battle between us was really just a dangerous training ground. Why else would we spend so much fighting over an iron mine? It made us look weak and our opponents over-confident; in truth, it made us strong and fierce. A strength that has led us to unite this land and lift both our people up into prosperity.'' The short man said with a grin. 
 
 `` Do n't sell yourself short, you saw through my designs from the very start.'' He dipped the pen in the ink and held it over the container, letting the excess drip away. `` That village that we raided, to spark this whole thing, was a decoy.'' 
 
 `` What gave it away?'' The short man asked with a mirthful smile. 
 `` The decor of the houses. It looked like a bunch of rowdy men had decorated them; what kind of village women would let their husbands handle that?'' With a jovial hand, he penned the final name necessary to end the fighting on their continent. The priest, a paragon of resolute purpose, passed the scroll to the next Ventus signatory without expression at their revelation. Four more decorations were added to the scroll before the priest rolled it up and sealed it within a golden tube emblazoned with the blue of Emeria and the green of Ventus. 
 
 `` With this, the war between Ventus and Emeria is finished.'' The priest announced loudly to the room, before walking to the balcony and announcing it to the crowd that waited outside. Deafening cheers shook the temple as the dignitaries congratulated one another on this historic day. The two generals rose and extended hands out across the table. Their hands hung apart for a moment before they closed in a firm grasp. With one single hearty shake, the two released their grip; with a sharp salute reserved only for a superior rank, the two spun about and marched out from the building. 
 

