It was somewhere but nowhere, it was neither up, down, forwards nor back.
It was there.
The place just existed.
It was the Hollywood version of the after life or maybe heaven in appearance.
Everything was white and a swirling mist seemed to obscure anything within three metres of eyesight.
Within this scene sat three ancients on identical thrones.
They were dressed in white robes with flowing hair beard and moustaches that seemed all to morph into each other to become one shiny mane obscuring their faces.
The only striking physical feature was their diamond pink eyes.
Their chairs were high backed that extended above their heads and had wide armrests.
The ever-present mist obscured the ancient’s feet.
As if to distinguish between them each held a different item in their hands.
The ancient seated in the centre held an over sized hourglass that had been exhausted, ready to be turned again. The ancient seated to his right carried a white book with black and white squares on the cover. The book looked old, it’s cover worn and its pages well thumbed.
The ancient seated to the right of the centre held a short staff made of wood with a milky crystal atop of it held in place with a clasp made of skeletal fingers.
All three ancients were in animated conversation with each other causing the surrounding mist to eddy all around them.
“This book gets heavier by the moment with the addition of names that want to participate, is there any chance we can speed up procedures brothers?”
“When has time ever been relevant to us brother? It only matters to those on the field.”
“Well, I suppose a table would come in handy then”
“I don’t know why you don’t use it as a foot rest. I use this scepter thingy as a walking stick when I go for walks in the hills”
“Ha, table, how many times do think I’ve debated about swapping this hour glass for a time piece like a new Rolex stop watch. It’s tradition. Live with it brother”
“Tradition?, bah. I wonder what our younger is doing currently?”
“He’s more than busy with his pet project. If that’s what he wants to do who are we to criticize. Building sustainable worlds, what a laugh. I heard he even had a son. Totally lost the plot in my opinion. Worlds are for our amusement and a means to an end, not for nurturing and growing like some domestic animal.”
“Hmmm. He just didn’t seem to enjoy the battles like we do”
“Speaking of such, while I’ve got this book open I’ve the next two all sized up and measured ready to call”
“Good lets get the ball rolling, and seriously brother try using it for a foot rest, if you won’t give it over here”
The ancients continued with their conversation and procedure meanwhile the mist at their feet cleared to reveal that they were sitting high above a landscape of checkered fields much like a country farm or the crazy way they do cricket ovals these days when they mow the ovals. The field itself was made up of eight equal square lots wide and in depth amassing sixty-four all told. The total distance in both directions would have to be close to fifteen to twenty kilometers at least.
Either side of the fields where flanked by fast rising incredibly steep mountain ranges that soared above the field into the mist.
Clearly visible carved into the sides of the barren rock face were trails not unsimilar to the type left by sheep and cattle on country hill sides
Though this imposing sidewall encased both sides it cast no show at all, as there was no sun the field was bathed in perpetual light supplied by the ancients.
At what appeared to be the open ends of the field where a series of tents, marquis, stables and pens of varying sizes. Almost like a small town but in reality campaign sites for large armies complete with barracks and worship compounds.
Behind these temporary camps at a distance of about four hundred metres the mist began to close in creating a pale wall of nothing.
Taking in all of these boundaries the field was effectively inescapable and in essence was a big empty caged battlefield waiting for its combatants to arrive.
And though the field was clear of any disturbance or residue of fighting, it had been the stage of many a bloody conflict.
And would be the theatre for countless more.
All for the amusement and entertainment of the ancients sitting high above in the clouds.
Looking into those clouds from the field the robes of the ancients were visible, one moved and slid the book under his feet.
“Hey, the leathers quite nice on the toes”
“I told you but now you’ll have to pull it out again’
“Because you didn’t tell us who’s fighting next against the current champion brother”
The ancient grunted as he bent down and collected his book and then with an exaggerated swipe of his hand opened the book on exactly the page he was looking for. Using his finger to scroll down he let out a faint whistle.
“Oh this should be interesting brothers”
“Why say that brother?”
“Because some of the old servants are getting a run this time”
“What? Expelled angels?”
“Hmmmf!. Obviously got bored with it down there. Who are they fighting again brother?”
“The nasty pieces of work from the darker dimensions who have been on the board for quite a while now”
“Oh, sorry. The armies of the White Wing challenges the armies of the Black Spear"
“Good, let’s get ready to rumble shall we brothers”
“I’ll send out the invitations”
And so it begins………….