A group of farmers come together to save their community from a rogue group of hunters.
Reading time: 5 minutes.

The First Generation of Soldiers

They were farmers, not soldiers. Their forefathers had given up hunting a long, long time ago. Now they lived in a community, not in caves; they ate self-grown food, not hunted animals. They had discovered trade routes and developed commerce with other communities. The new generation of farmers lived in harmony and believed in peace. It was an age of evolution. They used to be wild and savage; but, now they were benevolent and civilized. Instead of killing innocent animals, they farmed cattle and poultry. Some of them kept canines as guards and small cats as pets. They advanced their craftsmanship. They discovered art, music, and entertainment. Their days would go in hard work like working the fields, catering for the farms, building their shelters, and cooking food for everyone. Their evenings would submerge in the celebration of another happy end of another day. Their nights would go silent, so they could rest. It was a perfect world without any worries, without any fear, and most importantly, without any insecurities about the future.

Their forefathers had made a brilliant, unforeseen decision of giving up hunting and becoming civilized. But others were set in their ways. They were still as savage as the day, still as wild as a beast. They were hunters, and they never believed in civilization. Those hunters only either killed for their food or took someone else’s. They still slept in the unsecured caves with one eye open; they had to. It was the only way to survive in the depths of the arduous forest. They never set foot in the cultivated landscapes. They did not know that there was a world safe and civilized. Even if they did know, some of them would still want to stay on the uncivilized land. It was not their fault; they were just unable to learn to evolve. They were set in their wild and foul ways. But make no mistakes, they might have been savage, but they were not incompetent fools. Those were the cleverest hunters of the jungle. No one was better than them; they were unbeatable. They were the best. They formed groups too but only to hunt. Once they had taken down a prey, they devoured it like termites on wood, no matter how big or strong. No one ever escaped them once they set their eyes on something.

And one day, their eyes fell upon the community of the farmers.

It was like they had struck gold. Now, the hunters didn't need to go anywhere to search for food. They started stealing from the farmers. At first, the farmers did not notice them, but they eventually found out about the hunters. They decided to keep watch during the night, but it did no good. Those hunters were clever as it gets. They had uncountable ways to fool the poor innocent farmers. No matter how hard the farmers tried, they could not stop those hunters. So, they decided to fight. One night, everyone in the farmers' community stayed awake, waiting for those hunters. And, when they arrived, farmers chased them away. They celebrated their first victory against the wild hunters, but it did not last long. The hunters had never given up so quickly. If they couldn’t steal, they started using force. They had impeccable knowledge of weapons, which they used to build artillery. One day, they attacked the village. Those poor farmers were not prepared. They had never expected an open attack in broad daylight. The hunters burned their houses and hurt a few of them. They took their food without fear because they knew that no one could stop them.

Poor farmers; they cried till midnight, mourned their loss and their incapability to fight. The farmers knew that those hunters would come again. They could now barge in and take their food anytime they wanted. They had only one option; exodus. The farmers needed to leave the place and start over somewhere else. They were worried about the children the most. But where could they go? Who was to say that they'll be safe there. What if those hunters arrived there too? What if something else threatened them there? One crazy poet, however, had an idea, just as crazy as himself. He suggested that they fought those hunters back. At first, everyone laughed at him. Fight the hunters? The nerve of him! But the poet stated his case. They could save not only their people and food but also their pride. And what did they have to lose? They already were endangered. So, they decided to fight back. The farmers were just as good craftsmen as those hunters. They built their defence, and they made armour and weapons. They were ready now to take on those hunters. All they had to do now was wait.

Finally, the day arrived. The hunters’ stock had run out, so they had come back to take more. They did not know what awaited them. So when they attacked, they were met by the farmers' defence system. Before they could understand and make a strategy, the farmers ambushed them. Those clueless hunters had to run to save their lives. The farmers celebrated again. But now, it was a war between farmers and hunters. They knew those hunters would come back, and they did, prepared this time. The two armies gathered in an open field in front of each other, waiting to tear apart the other. The hunters wanted to establish their control again, and the farmers just wanted to save their civilization. The hunters were angry and vengeful because of their last defeat, while the farmers were all vehement and happy. No one knew that the day would mark something important in the history of humankind. If they did, they’d probably write it all down.

The war began; the hunters charged towards the farmers. The farmers held them back for a while, but soon, their defences failed. The farmers were not trained in this. They had managed to win one time because the hunters were not prepared. Now, those savages tore those innocent civilians apart. The war had come to an end before it could begin. The farmers all soon tasted the dirt and their own blood. They lost all hope to ever be able to win their dignity back. Now, they would have to live under the hunters' rules, that is only if they survived. That’s when the most beautiful, the most inspiring thing happened. The poet stood up; he was all covered in blood. He could barely stand, but he hollered at the fellow farmers.

“Rise ‘o’ peasants!” he cried as loud as he could. “Pick up the stones!”

A few farmers also struggled to pick themselves up.

“Sow this land,” the poet continued shouting, calling to everyone. “With blood and bones!”

More farmers rose and picked up anything they could grab. Some of them sang along with the poet.

“Grow a life out of death!”

The hunters were watching them, confused and clueless.

“Make a soldier with every breath!”

All the farmers now stood up; they were angry, hostile, prepared, and eager. They had channelled the hunters’ spirit of their ancestors. They all now sang in unison.

“Ink you sweat and write the history!”

The farmers all screamed on top of their lungs.

"Swing your wrists, and CLAIM THAT VICTORY!"

They charged towards those hunters without any fear in the world.

The hunters did not stand a chance; they ran away or got captured. The farmers did something impossible. They returned home, singing victory songs, carrying the heroes on their shoulders. No one ever tried to steal from them again. If anyone tried, they met the same fate as those hunters. Because now, they were not just farmers.

They were soldiers too.