The Lost Stair

Happy times! I developed this image on an old Dell that is no longer around.  This complex image crashed that computer several times before the PC finally completed the render.  When that Dell PC finally kicked it, I thought that it took this image with it.

I did lose the original work file, but somehow a copy of the final image wound up on a backup DVD.  Remember everyone, back up all of your work.  O.k. then, here's a little Flash Fiction that I just thought up for the image...

The Lost Stair

I listen to the old soldiers some times.  In fact, several of us hay bailers like to sit and listen to their old war stories.  It is interesting when they come along from the small road towns where they live.  They come into our town to sit under the shade trees and talk about their exploits.

Most of the time, they reminisce about old battles and the defeat of past dictators and their armies.  I have to say, that at times we sit there and drink in their words.

An old soldier in particular, fought in the struggle against the white banners; those were the ones that tried to take this very town for themselves, as well as several others.  They came from across the mountains.  As a young man, the old soldier saw much struggle, and he was there in the most dangerous of battles.

One particular story that he would tell, was the one about how the general of the white banners dabbled in forbidden things.

The old soldier himself did not learn the story for himself as an eyewitness, but he learned it from others who had been assigned to the task in the raiding of the enemy general's mountain fortress, and one in particular who lived to tell the tale to his comrades.  That raider learned it from a captured enemy guard who had no issue in telling it, as he himself was glad that the mountain fortress had been conquered, and it's master, defeated.

As the story goes, and this was told by the raider who learned it from the captured guard, the general of the white banners was planning an assault against our combined forces.  The war was waning, and badly for the white banners.

One night, as the general and his high confidants and advisors planned their last assault, an argument broke out amongst them.  Some sided with the argument that their final push was far too weak, and that it would be best to retreat and gather their strength.  Others sided with the general, and thought that retreating would spur our forces to follow them into the mountains and utterly defeat the failing white banners.

Soon after the argument began, it ended.  Those that did not follow the general, stormed out of the room.  Those that supported him, were thrown out.  The general and his most trusted men remained, and with the few candles that had not gone out; our forces had successfully shut the power from the area.

The captured guard said that he watched as the men stormed out of the room and disappeared down the stairs at the end of the hallway.  He watched as the supporting advisors also left the room, and disappeared through a door at the opposite end of the hallway.

Hours passed, and the guard said that as he was beginning to doze off, he heard steps coming up the stairs at the far end of the hallway.  He said that a figure dressed in black, came up the stairs, turned, and walked to the general's door.  He watched as the figure opened the door, and entered; he closed the door behind him.

Well, the guard said that something dark must have happened in that room, for in a few minutes, the general came out.  He locked the door behind him, and turned to leave.  As he did, he glanced over at the guard, and said: "Victory will be our destiny."  With that, the general walked to the end of the hallway, and down the stairs, shouting: "It is our destiny to win! We will win because we are the white banners!"

The guard said that he never saw the figure dressed in black leave the room, or ever since.  It did not matter, as the confidence that the general received, made him give the order to join all of his remaining forces, and attack.  Needless to say, the general and the white banners were soundly defeated.  They were utterly and completely destroyed.

The general himself, limped back, bloodied and broken.  He and his surviving advisors managed to make it back to the mountain stronghold.  It did not take long for our forces to reach the unprotected stronghold, and burn it to the ground.  The general and his few surviving men perished in the chaos.  The ruins of the stronghold remain to this day.

Whatever the figure dressed in black told the general to spur him forward, none will ever know.  Undoubtedly, the figure saw the general's desperation, and saw the opportunity do deceive him into an agreement, and with no intention in helping him in any type of victory.  The figure told the general that he would return to his fortress after the last great battle was fought, but the figure neglected to tell him that he would return in defeat, battered and broken, and that he would be destroyed in his own fortress.

It is said by the scant few that dare to travel through the mountains at night, that they can hear the general and his doomed advisors still trapped in their crumbled fortress, where they remain forever.