The war from the luddites, scared of the change; The war of the commons, wanting great change. The common man stuck in between, or two… Are the elves and humans the same, conflict. I watch as the world goes on, peacefulness; yet on the borders of my perception, I can see only red and flashing steel. I look over our maps, our history, was this war inevitable as tears? Like two sides of a coin, rebels spread quick, as if oil and water, not to mix. A two front war is what I see ahead, yet at the moment it but simmers slow. Only a few outlying gunshots sound, yet more sound every coming night’s day. I see the signs, we’ve seen the signs, yet not; yet not one dares to stop the struggle pains, yet not one tries to pacify, instead… Instead they choose to drink and harvest wealth, instead they are blinded by long calm lives.

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A war hasn’t happened for a while, far more slow to act yet quick to simmer, we have reached an unsteady peace throughout. A war hasn’t happened for a while, but it’s inevitable that blood flows, thicker than water and more hesitant, no one wants to shoot the first shot. Can I pacify the rebels, concede? Concede power built over my lifetime? What should I do, I am at an impasse. Pacify the commons and change too much, pacify the old ones, regress, retract. There seems to be no way to keep moving.

“We can only prepare for the war, cold; it has not yet boiled over for us. Either pacification would hasten, either pacification would weaken. We cannot move back, only fast forwards; our fragile peace but a short night's dream, a dream, intoxicated fantasy…”