When I think back to the war between humans and orcs, I’m always reminded of one beautiful thing. As I rested on a sandy shore one night, I looked across the cloudless summer sky and saw the purest, most brilliant streak of orange erupt in the horizon. The light blinded me, and the once night sky temporarily became day.

I remember the warmth of the breeze sending chills down my spine. I remember watching the waves quiet themselves for a moment, as if too frightened to sway. I remember the roar that silenced everything.

I remember the ash falling.

Ah, sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? That moment in time was special to me. That light awakened something in me. Something that I had made numb to cope with my solitude. For the first time in forever, I felt rage hot enough to scorch the planet.

That damnable light…

But that was almost a hundred thousand years ago so no matter. Back to orcs and humans beating the crap out of each other!

After the peace talks failed the first time, both sides began gearing up for full on war. Humans were itching to test their newfound strength, while orcs had decided that humanity was becoming a serious threat. Before more fights could break out, myself and a few sages managed to talk sense into both the human and orc leaders. We made both sides come to a ceasefire by acting as an intermediary and setting up the Farsi Accords. The conditions stated that orcs would allow a certain area of their mountain, Krakatau, to be mined and used by humans. In turn, a portion of the materials would go to the orcs, and humanity would also limit the amount of Drakae hunting they engaged in.

Now, this solution wasn’t made with the intent to last. It was something of a band-aid patched over a wound to keep it from being infected while waiting for the real medical supplies to come in. The personality of orcs did not lend well to acting as traders, while human greed often led to misuse of the mines. Still, for a solid seventy years the accords did their job while amendments and other provisions were added to make things more stable.

Then The Obsidian Pearl sank.

The Obsidian Pearl was a trading ship that carried silver, gold, and other precious gems to foreign lands. Apparently, the humans had not been sending the proper amount of tribute to the orcs as required. Insulted at this slight, the orcs went to the ship and demanded the sum owed to them. When the captain refused and set sail, the orcs had the ship burned and sunk. In retaliation to this, the humans launched a magical plague that decimated life on the mountain, killing all the fire-drakes and orcken young.

Once again, we had war on the horizon. And once again, I stepped in with my fellow sages to put a stop to it. Each time, we made some sort of agreement. Each time, it lasted for a few years. Each time, one side antagonized the other, and everything came crumbling down again. As the years dragged on in this bloody cold war, the sages that once stepped in began to die off. Mother Nature began to stir, and dryads started appearing more frequently. This put humans more on edge than ever before.

I don’t even know what finally triggered the war. At that point, I didn’t even care. I was so, so exhausted with the constant bickering between everyone involved. So, I contented myself to live by a little island far and away and just let nature sort it out.

And then, one quiet summer night, I saw that damned light.

It wasn’t until years later that I actually went to the site of that orange light. Not because I wanted answers; I knew what had happened. I went, and still go, to remind myself of why I keep these records.

What had once been the vast, vibrant mountain home of the orcs had turned into a giant crater of ash and soot. There had been a violent and bloody battle between the two races. The orcs had been pushed back to their mountain refuge and prepared themselves to make a last stand. Humans had surrounded the mountain, and step by step they razed everything to the ground. There wasn’t going to be any talks this time around. No room for negotiation. This was the execution of an entire race.

Then Mother Nature stepped in.

The constant death and destruction, the years and years of magi siphoned out and creating plagues, the loss of animal life, the twisting of her creatures…

Enough was enough.

In one moment—just a small, quiet moment—the mountain erupted and engulfed every living being in ash and fire. And there I sat, halfway across the world on a little island all to myself, watching the remains of an entire race fall on my face like snow.