The stones fell slowly at first. One
by one, off the top edges of the wall, making it look like an early ruin. It
appeared a bit shabby, but it was still usable. The wall still stood, still
served to protect and defend those inside and was still something from which
the watchmen had a vantage point. It served its purpose. However, it is unknown
as to why it wasn’t fixed then. It would have made sense, fixing the problems
as they occurred, but it hadn’t been really bad just then. So no one really
wanted to set forth the effort, despite their prophet’s warnings. It was fine
the way it was. There was no need for work, no need to interrupt the routine of
their normal, comfortable lives. The wall stood, but it was uncared for.
And as the years passed, a few more
worn spots continued to appear. The corners and edges of the individual stones
began to wear by time, wind, and weather. But it really didn’t look any worse
than it had before, and it wasn’t really as if there were any more real enemies
coming to lay siege to their home and way of life. Aesthetics did not matter,
especially if it meant going out of their way to fix it. Functionality mattered,
and the wall still stood. How much more functional did they really need it to
be? However, the worn edges started to crack, etching lines into the stone,
weakening the entire structure. The watchmen on the walls felt the unsteadiness
under foot and added their voices to the prophet’s. Still the people refused.
Who really cared about a few loose stones and cracks underfoot? The walls still
stood, and that was all that mattered. No one dared come close to their
country, to their city, not with their wealth and certainly not with their
numbers. They were comfortable and safe. There were other things to think
about, and that did not include the worries of their community members that
were slowly becoming pariahs.
And as the cracks became deeper and
longer, the wall grew weaker, and the voices grew louder. A shadow grew and
encroached upon the edges of their sight, blinding the watchmen to the very
farthest they could see, and filling the prophet with sad acceptance. The
watchmen’s sight began to weaken. Beyond the horizon, beyond their sight, something
festered and laid in wait, and it refused to be pinned down and defined by
those few who sought it out. Fear entered the hearts of those standing on the
walls. Not for themselves, but for their people.
The people grew annoyed and insulted at the
accusations of neglect and finally tried to appease the voices by sending men
to examine the walls. The men they sent were unqualified. They were not brick
layers or stone masons, and their eyes were not attuned to the task. They brought
back a neutral and erred report. However, the people were satisfied and
continued to wonder at the warning, eventually turning a deaf ear to the words.
It only caused the prophets and watchmen to shout louder.
It is no surprise then, after so
long a trial of inactivity, that the wall wore thin, and the ground beneath it
settled, and it transformed into a crumbled mess with watchmen still attempting
to man the dilapidated towers. Their view became even more obscured as their
vantage points dwindled, and the shadows crept in. It is also no surprise, that
when the enemy did come, the walls had already fallen for them, and they made
quick work of conquering.
And the watchmen and the prophets
were among the first to bleed, because they fought the festering complacency. Their
enemy did not like what they had to say, and were afraid of the potential
rebellion they might incite if allowed to live. Even so, it stands to reason,
that they were also the first among them to go Home, free of guilt for the
bloodshed.
Therefore, let it be known that the
people did not listen to those sent to guard them, and they became prisoners in
the desert, in the forests, on the plains, and in the mountains. Wherever their
fortresses stood, wherever their people lived, they were found and conquered.
This was not a singular event.
And the world fell.
