Things That I Imagine #1

Today, I sat in my 5th hour English class.

On this same day, I began to daydream a bit.

After all, I was already typing another submission for this site at the time, so I decided to myself, "why not imagine yourself having the inspiration to type another?"

Of course, that decision was made a solid 5 minutes ago, spurred on by the fact that two people liked my random submission.

So, I present to you another random submission: Things That I Imagine.

I imagine a war- a generic conflict between two sides with tall, tattered flags attached to spears on both sides, two people mounted in the fronts of their respective armies. "Generals", I'll call them.

The people in this war lack something, though...Ah! Existence without the sole purpose of fighting! Let's give these people lives.

Let's say there's a Leopold, one who left his rich life as a successful merchant to enjoy the thrills of battle. He's a noble one, one with a strong sense of fairness built throughout the various transactions he's been a part of. Let's give him some gold teeth and a wide grin, some thin green armor and a silver spear, maybe a companion or two that secretly look up to him and hide behind him under the gray skies above. Cloudless, or cloudy? I don't know yet.

Now, there's a Connor, one who frankly doesn't want to be there, albeit his place in this war is vital to its success. His little gang of unidentified mercenaries are some of the best swordsmen the world has seen. They slaughter, they pillage, they live, yet they still fight. For what? Each other? No. They can't stand each other, and if it weren't for the greater good, they'd have gotten at each other a long time ago. Alas, Connor bites off of an apple impatiently, tapping his foot repeatedly as the Generals talk on and on. Connor fights on the same side as Leopold, though he can't bear his good-natured behavior.

Next, there's a Carter, one who is young and foolish, aspiring to become the best fighter possible "no matter the cost". His comrades sigh when they see the glow in his eyes, his teachers find it impossible to remove their hands from their faces when he trains, and his brother looks down on him with admiration of the fine young man he's becoming. All make way for the Scarlet Charger as he rides his steed on a straight path into battle, trampling all and spearing none- actual weapon use was never his forte. "This one's for you, Agathin!" he plans to heroically declare as he lands his first actual strike on an enemy, with or without his horse. What's sad is the fact that this is the Primary's General.

Finally, there's a Sigmund, one who is tired, old, and weary. As much carnage and bloodshed as he's seen and experienced in his life, he refuses to quit fighting for his father's homeland although he is 87. He rides out to meet Carter, the young man of only 34 he hoped to meet one day. All the tales he'd hear about how the Primary's were foolish and reckless to hire such an oaf as their General only inspired him more and more to find some way, some means of fighting him. Even if it meant forcing his father's country to war with fake threats and staged killings that none saw through. Sigmund thought himself honorable and worthy, but he knew he wasn't. Not anymore. 

The Gen fight for their General Sigmund, not the glory of Genra. They know not this fact, though, as the only thing they know is that no matter how much they fear, no matter how much they risk, they have orders and lives on the line if they don't follow them. Alas, they are reluctant, some unable to hold their spears as they look at their own rusted and bloodied black steel plates and compare them to the freshly polished, shining emerald glow of the Primary. Battle-hardened warriors, the Gen are, but their hearts and minds are still on their own survival, their ability to go back to their wives and children, their farms and their pets, their townsfolk they haven't seen in years. Some men cry as the anxiety of the first arrow shot hangs over their heads. This is my last war. I swear it.

The two Generals exchange glances and words not of foul nature. As is customary, both sides attempt to resolve the standoff peacefully, albeit they both know diplomacy long ago left the vicinity. Thus Carter, in all his zealousness, smirks and turns his horse around to face his men, General Sigmund doing the same. 

"Today, I want you to think of this not in terms of the bloodshed that inevitably results from acts of war, but in terms of the honor of your homeland you fight to defend. You were birthed in Genra, and here at its border, you shall perish, but you will not fall. To our last breaths, men! As close as they are regardless!"

"We've traveled this far on the strength of our hearts, the wisdom in our minds, and the perseverance in our spirits! We will not falter! We will not fall! Take it from me! As young and vibrant as we all once were and still are, we all know the value of standing back up after taking a rough tumble, and the importance of not letting a stab or slice take you out of the fight that easily! Don't give up, men! Even if you can't breathe and your body feels as if it's slipping away, don't let it! I refused to give up when even all of you told me I wouldn't pass initiation, but look at me now! You can be me! I'll help you there together! Today may be the last day of your life, but it is NOT the end of the road! Give it one last charge!"

The two Generals nod and turn around, retreating directly to the front lines of their respective sides, still facing each other with looks of nigh-friendly competitiveness.

"The days of my youth are coming back for me it seems."

"That's where I'll be in my senile days. I know it will have been worth it."

The Primary pray and ready themselves for their most important confrontation yet. The Gen simply pull themselves together and prepare their bodies for what their minds won't be able to handle.

How do I know this?

Simple. I'm the one playing the video game. I picked the Primary, but I'm horrible at this game, so they're all quite pathetic.

Heck, they'll probably all die and be forced to relive this moment again when I bring up my saved states.

*sigh* It's such tough work raising an army of individuals, isn't it?

But then again, such is the life of a guy like me, sitting on his couch at 3:00 in the morning playing a stupid game.

You know what's even more pathetic?

"Story told and elaborated upon extensively has nothing to do with the main character- who's actually the guy telling the story" cliche.

Know what's three times as pathetic?

This is normally the part in this horror movie where I die from some guy with a knife sneaking up on me in my blissful unawareness. 

There's only one thing, though.

He fell down the stairs two hours ago. He really thought I didn't see him follow me to my apartment staircase. One kick and he was gone!

But hey, what'd ya expect from a guy who's playing a game about a war he won?

Name's Cartel, but a lot of people just call me Carter.

I'm the understudy for Carter, who mysteriously died from a stabbing.

In real life.

Ain't that strange?

How you like that ending?

These are the things I think about during readings of MacBeth. Hope you enjoyed! Leave a like and comment below, and don't forget to subscri-

(What do you mean "This isn't Youtube"? Oh. OOOOHHH! Okay, I got you.)