The Music of the Green

It began as a shift in the air. The murmur of trees. The crackling whisper of crops conspiring in the night. The music of the green. The warmongers felt this change, invisible yet heady. Peace and joy grew root-bound in their hearts, driving out all aggression. Warring faction met and reveled. They drank, they ate, they sang. And they danced. They danced day and night. They smiled and danced upon bloody feet. They danced into ecstatic delirium, until they saw the face of god. Then was acknowledged the presence of the Queen in Emerald. The Verdant Spirit! The Music that Eats! She had come, not as a thief in the night, but in motley of glory green. One by one, the dancers died. Then their corpses danced a while longer. They danced until their souls guttered out like worm-eaten stars, until they could never return to life again. When the last reveler rotted away, the Queen in Emerald held court. She holds court still.