"I want a world where Ranar never has to see another battlefield."
He said it to Ashcroft before giving one last glance to the little girl sleeping peacefully on the bed. His fingers lingered briefly on the edge of the blanket, gently pulling it over her shoulder before he turned away. He quietly opened the door to his large chamber and stepped into the empty hallway.
"How many do you think have tried to do that... bring an end to war?"
"Every tyrant and despot has uttered those same words years before you were born, and look around you..." Ashcroft's voice echoed through his mind, carrying an unusual melancholy. "The world you have today is the inherited ruin of their ideals."
"Do you know how many kings uttered those same words before drowning the world in blood?"
"Peace is always the excuse."
"Conquest."
"Domination."
"Genocide."
"Every tyrant believes the final war will create everlasting peace."
"They were all wrong."
