Undecided

• Aaron Garrett, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2011

For decades the four lands were ruled in times of peace and war. To the northern lands dwelled the Dwarves, who fed on jewels and dug to the deepest depths of the world; to the Western Wastelands the Goblin hoards squaller in their filth and dysentery. The Eastern Woods were inhabited by the Elvan kingdoms that were maters in medicines and herbal remedies and were in direct contact with mother earth. To the south on the coastal boarder the realm of men was beginning to thrive. But at the centre of these four kingdoms the great wizard guild that watched over all of the four kingdoms. Their fortress carved into the side of a mountain and ordained in gold and precious metals. On the darkest nights a blinding glow of green light would stretch across the lonely plains. The wizards took it upon themselves to search these lands and distant worlds for knowledge, spells and lost relics. They filled their chambers with books, elixirs and treasures they found on the side; they ensured that there was balance between the kingdoms. But when a party of wizards returned on the rotation of the second moon, the air fell still and disconcert plague their facesÆ. They had returned from the long forgotten dragons keep deep within the goblin waste lands and bought back the chest of the Vizier. He was one of their most trusted allies until he delved into madness. It took them hours to break the spell holding this chest shut from the world. The chest was filled with decaying scrolls and the AstiÚr stone. They searched their archives, reams of paper were torn, and stone tablets were broken as they franticly searched to confirm their fears. This stone possessed the power to gaze into the future, to see the fate of time and its ultimate end. Curiosity plagued them as temptation to see the end grew. They saw darkness, and destruction, but it came with a warning. The world they knew could be saved, but only one race could save it. They were tasked with genocide and had to choose one race to save and destroy any remnants of the other three. The wizards wouldnÆt be able to bare the guilt and vanished into exile. But one stayed, one knew that no matter how difficult the decision to protect the future of the lands the guild vowed to protect, he had to make the choice. He sat in front of the stone contemplating long into the night, long into the year, long into the face of time. The land grew old, the fortress decayed; the elves became so in touch with the forest they themselves turned into trees. The dwarves dug so deep they couldnÆt escape their tomb and the human race defeated the goblin kingdom in the Greystone war. One race was left, but the wizard still sat trying to decide which race should remain. He still sits in front the stone. At any time he could choose.