Tall Tales

Tired

 The man stood in the middle of the battlefield. Listening to as the blasts of magic, and cannons went off around him. He was tired, the flames blaring around him as he screams of soldiers filled his ears. The man didn't move however, instead. he watched from the middle, he watched as the both sides killed more and more, took ground, and lost. He watched unprovoked, and unmoving. The very few, people who claim close to him just ignored him. he was clad in a suit and tie, his tall from hovering over the Soldiers who would come close enough to witness the strange figure standing in the middle of the blood bath. Some claimed he was Death, waiting for it all to end so he can take the souls to the underworld, others claimed he was a nightmare, a creature that existed to just terrify and take lost souls for his own hunger. The war raged days, to weeks, to months. Yet he stood unmoving, his ice blue eyes staring off into the distant horizon. He was so tired. Yet, he listened to the screams of the pained the cries of the damned. He listened as the people around him died, and killed. He watched as Soldiers crawled to his feet and die. Crying for him to help, and yet. He said nothing. He didn't even move. He just stared, at nothing. He was so very tired. 

As the war grew bloodier around him, the Soldiers grew braver. Talking to the man when they had the ground to do so. Asking him questions of the afterlife. But to there mild disappointment. he said nothing, he did nothing. The war continued around him, magic, fire, cannon fire filling his ears even more. His trance seemed to break, as A cannon ball was shoot towards the now apparent statue of the man.His hand now extended. the steam from the force coming from his hand as he held the cannon ball. The man's eyes glanced to the cannon ball, He looked at it for such a long time, till his head moved again towards the cannon that shot it. He'd raise his hand back, and threw the cannon like it was a tennis ball. The impact the throw had cause the earth to tremble. The war went silent after that. No one dared moving as the once thought statue of a man started to shift about and stretch. The air, slowly growing colder on the battle field. The field was silence as he moved. Then he spoke his first words, and it carried everywhere, as if he was omni-present. 

"I'm so tired." Everyone started to scream after his words where muttered, both sides starting to dig into there skin. To get it out, his voice. They wanted it out. They started to cry as there bones began to twist, there ear drums shattering, as there hearts burned. His words contained so much power, so much death. Few died almost immediately as there ears began to bleed. but most made it until there bodies started to freeze over. and one man. A young man, who looked no older then 15. Made into the statue. he collapsed into him, and would start to beg for his life. beg to be spared from death's grasp. But an spike made of ice shot from the ground and into his body. The boy's cries cut short as his lifeless corpse hung high in the air by the impalement. Only then did the tall mans eyes focus. 

 He'd glance about the field of torture of death, and agony. the field of frost, and ice that he had caused. He'd shift a brow as he spoke his final words of his stay on the battle field. "I..Am so tired." he mumbled as he'd start to walk, walk towards the darkness that is the forest. Walk towards the silence, so he can rest. Without the intervention of noise.