CHAPTER VII - The Madness of War
The fighting periodically broke out and then receded for three days in a row. The town was divided, each half governed by an opposing side. The rebels were mostly miners, people of strong build who were used to daily hardships. Most of the soldiers, on the other hand, were idlers. However, we were better armed and armored, and commanded by a Lord who was a formidable warrior. On the third day, we were moving in for an all-out fight.
We pushed the rebels back only to be snared by a fire-trap. The rebels had cleverly dug a trench, filled it with oil and water, and lighted it as soon as we marched forward in our Roman formation. I remember the flash of light blinding me and the feeling of heat suddenly surrounding me. I remember the screams deafening my ears and, most vividly, recounting the chaos that only moments before had surrounded me, and now enveloped me.
I can’t seem to recall much of what happened afterwards. I do remember running, though — running as hard and fast as my feet could carry me. I also remember the screams throbbing in my ears, echoing in my heart; the screams of dying men. So I wondered, and dreaded that I might be next.
I remember rain washing over me as I kept running. The searing heat of the fire combined with the freezing cold of hail and rain made me feel I was truly and utterly in hell. I wasn’t so sure anymore that I was even alive. Perhaps I did die that day, and my restless ghost lingers in the battlefield, suffering for the crimes I had committed.
Regardless of my thoughts, I ran until deep forest encompassed me for many leagues, and there was a peculiar sound of ringing bells just before my head hit the ground. I felt muck soak my face, and muted, watched a horseman who raced past me. I was struck by him. The utter dread of death claimed me, and in a desperate act I held still and would not move, hardly breathing, my eyes open, gazing into nothing. Transfixed on whatever was in-front of me. I had hoped and prayed inside for him to think me dead. Perhaps he left. I was so transfixed that I no longer registered the outside world. Eventually, exhausted, I fell asleep.
When I woke up a person stood above me. He seemed rather old and forest- worn, yet not so old as to be weak. His hawk nose attracted my attention the most, as it seemed too big for his face. His dark eyes were somewhat sunken and his leather cap gave the impression that he was half-hawk and half-man.
“Boy, are ye alright?” He asked, in an accent that reminded me somewhat of a person I knew yet could not recollect. I tried to move, yet felt too numb and heavy to accomplish it. I opened my mouth to speak, yet could not remember the word ‘yes’ in the common tongue. I strained to think, yet could not focus on anything except his face and the forest glade I was in. There was dry blood in my hair; I wondered where it had come from. I quickly realized that I had no idea what was going on.
“Who’d be hunting ye, boy?” He asked after studying my tattered uniform, looking over his shoulder.
“Eini Zoher,” I said to him, those were the only words which sprang to my mind.
“What’s that? Some sort of password? A chant?” He asked, puzzled. I strained and gestured with my hands that I knew nothing. He held my head and gave me some water from his water-skin. I was grateful, and so very thirsty. I wanted to thank him but knew of no way to give thanks.
He paid me no heed, and looked about as if he heard something, then lay perfectly still on the muddy ground, planting his ear deep in the mud. Then after a few moments he rose and wiped the mud from his face. He smiled this strange smile that people often have when they are content with some secret knowledge. I grew too tired and heavy to think, my eyes shut against my will and I faded away.
I woke up in a cabin, lying on a straw bed. I looked around, trying to gather my bearings. Not recognizing the place, I moved to a sitting position. My right hand hurt and the pain increased as I awoke. I studied it, not knowing where the bandages had come from. I tried to think of where I had hurt my hand, but could not recollect. My head, too, was wrapped up, and no memory of any injury came to mind. Not knowing anything made me feel quite agitated.
“So you’re finally up!” A voice spoke, and I turned my attention from my hand to the direction of the voice. It was the old forester. I recognized him quite quickly and was proud of myself for the accomplishment. The forester’s face seemed glad, and I smiled when seeing him smile. In his hands he held a bowl and in it some food, as my sense of smell told me.
“Hungry?” He asked, and presented the bowl to me. I smiled broadly.
“T-T-T-Tank you,” I said, stammering and suddenly shaking all over.
“Haa, don’t sweat it boyo, it’s my pleasure, now eat up before it gets cold!” He gently slapped my shoulder. His eyes keenly studied my gestures, though I tried to hide them. He ignored my shakes and my obvious look of fear. I couldn’t remember why, but I knew it was improper for a man to show fear, so he maintained my honor by not seeing that I was terrified.
He let me eat in peace and I kept my gaze upon my dish, yet from the corner of my eye, I spied his look of worry, and that made me somewhat relieved — he seemed to care. He tended to the kitchen fire, whistling a child’s lullaby I thought I recognized, yet could not remember from when or where. My thoughts turned to the food, which up until then I had eaten without noticing what I was doing. I couldn’t recognize the taste of it, for, to me, there was no taste to anything. When I was done eating, the forester was quick to notice and was there to take the dish away. Everything he did, he did with an honest smile.
“Now boyo, my name is Raymond o’ the Brooks, this being near the brooks, thus my surname,” he said, laughing to himself at some sort of private joke which was funny only to him. He continued, “Can you tell me your name?”
“I... I don’t know!” I said growing agitated by the fact I could not bring my name to mind. “I can’t remember,” I continued.
“Do you remember who was chasing you? Or how you got injured?” He asked, and my worry grew. I shook all over as fire and screams flashed through my mind and my eyes darted everywhere like frightened hen searching for a place to hide.
“Calm down, boyo, you’ve been here for two days, nobody’s after you now. You’re safe.” He said soothingly, “You just rest for as long as you need, I’ll take care of everything.”
“There was fire, and screams,” I said many minutes later. I grabbed his arm when he got closer, an act which brought back the images of fire and slaughter. “They were everywhere and I tried to get away,” I continued. These words struck a core of terror in my heart, and I hung on to his hand in dire need of support.
“Hell,” he said under his breath, not intending that I hear him. But I did. I didn’t know what ‘hell’ was, for I had no memory of such a place name.
“By Mary’s grace, no fiend can harm you here. This is a Christian home and no unclean thing can trespass here,” he said. I wanted so hard to believe his words, though I knew neither who this Mary was nor what he meant by ‘Christian.’ His words nonetheless reassured me that he knew my enemies, and that I was safe from them here.
“Thank you, thank you!” I said.
“Don’t worry about a thing, boyo. You’re safe here and you can stay for as long as you wish,” he added, and I smiled. Feeling less anxious, I let go of his arm.
“You just rest now while I go outside to chop some wood,” he said, and I nodded and laid my head down, doing as instructed. I remember the sound of his axe striking logs outside, and then as sleep approached, the sound faded. There was a moment where I didn’t hear, feel, or think anything — a moment of utter blackness. Then the visions came, a vast discord of images and sounds; fire, screams, violence, pain, and the scent of scorched flesh and spilled blood. I strained with all my might to open my eyes, and flee this place which I knew by name now. ‘Hell,’ Raymond called it, and the name fit perfectly.
My eyes shot open and I bounced from my bed, shaking uncontrollably, soaked in cold sweat. It was the middle of the night now — I judged by the darkness outside and the sound of the Raymond’s snoring. I lay back in bed as soon as my surroundings became familiar again, not wishing to disturb my host’s rest. Mutely, I stared at the ceiling until the light of day came, my mind deep in conflicting thoughts. A part of me wanted to remember who I was and what had brought me to this place. Another part wanted to forget, to start afresh — as far as I could go from the Hell I had been trapped in before I met my present host.
“Raymond,” I began, come morning.
“Aye, boyo,” he answered as he cooked us breakfast.
“If you were given a choice as to whether or not to have memories, though you know deep inside that most of them are unpleasant, or to start afresh as a different person, which would you choose?” I asked, as clearly as I could pose this question that was troubling me so much.
“Well … that’s quite a deep philosophical question, coming from someone so young. I don’t think I can give you a simple answer,” he replied. I lowered my eyes and clenched my teeth in disappointment.
“Will you give me a complicated answer, then?” I asked, cheering up a bit and allowing myself to be bold.
“Ye sure seem passionate about an answer,” he replied in a pseudo-casual manner.
“Yes, I am,” I replied, hoping to press him further for an answer.
“Well, to be a new man, to start over, sure has its charm. I mean, life’s painful enough, and surely there are memories I can live without. But on the other hand, my life, with all its blissful events and its suffering, has made me who I am today. So my answer is, that I’d rather be the man I am today than live a life of blissful ignorance,” he answered. I stared at him quietly, somewhat disappointed.
“I’m sorry, boyo, I didn’t mean to make you sad. I’m sure your memories will come back eventually.” He misinterpreted my sadness.
“I don’t know if I want them to,” I replied, frustrated with myself.
“How so?” He asked as he served us breakfast, keeping his composed manner.
“Because I have this feeling deep inside my heart that my life has been quite hard, and every time I close my eyes, I see this place — ‘hell’ as you called it. So maybe I don’t want my memories back,” I answered.
“What about fond memories. Don’t you think you had any of those? Family? Friends? Maybe a special lady-friend for a young man like you? Don’t you think you had any of those?”
I tried to think hard, to see if any bells started to ring in my mind. Family: not even an echo there; complete nothing — couldn’t remember any family. Friends: even more dark — the feeling was like the absence of anything, so I knew for a fact that I had no friends. When I tried to think back to see if there was any special girl in my life, I did recall a face. It appeared as a blurred white visage, surrounded by the dark of nothingness, her blond hair shining like the sun. But I couldn’t see her facial features; couldn’t make out her eyes.
“There was a special girl in my life, I fink,” I said after a long pause, spent in contemplation.
“So ye have your answer then!” He said cheerfully.
“I don’t follow,” I replied, growing confused.
“Starting fresh has a price; you pay it by leaving behind those that love you and those whom you love,” he said. There was something in his voice. A quality I cannot explain. It touched something, inside of me.
“What if she’s dead?” I asked.
“What if she’s waiting for you at home?” He retorted quickly, not letting me think too long these sad thoughts.
“Then I have to find her, of course,” I replied, and moved subconsciously to start running.
“Hold on there! Do you remember her name? Or where she’s from? Do you have any idea how to find her?” He asked.
“Not really,” I replied, frustrated again by how stupid and rash I was.
“Well, there aren’t that many settlements nearby, so you’ll probably find her, or at least someplace that’ll jog your memory if you take your quest seriously and travel around,” He said, not losing patience with me.
“You’re right. Tank you,” I replied, and started thinking of the track ahead, and who she may be. But then a suspicious thought entered my mind. This man who saved me from Hell, who sprang out of nowhere, took me to his home and cared for me as if I were his lost son … I wondered, why all the kindness? Who was he, really? I knew it was improper of me to think ill of my host, but I couldn’t help it.
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then,” he said.
“No, wait!” I replied hastily, extending my arm towards him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked and remained sitting.
“Well,” I began, retracting my hand, “I don’t mean to be rude or burden you in any way, but may I stay here a while longer?” I asked.
“Of course, boyo …” he said, a smile slowly spreading across his face, “… stay for as long as you wish. I’m a lonely old man and could use the company,” he said. And thus I stayed with him a very long while, enjoying a life of blissful ignorance. Raymond never requested or demanded anything of me, and I was always grateful and full of admiration for a man who seemed so perfect; such a shining example of what men ought to be. His smile was contagious. The bright way in which he conducted even the slightest aspects of his life could cheer even a wounded soul such as mine.
‘I never want to leave,’ I told myself.
Present day...
“So, as a supernatural creature, how do you feel about humanity?” Daina asked.
“That's a deep and complicated question Daina,” Jaunee began. “I'd like to start by correcting your statement. Nothing is above the natural order of things. There is simply no such thing as the supernatural. You perceive some things as the supernatural because you cannot explain them, that does not imply they cannot be explained.”
“But you're immortal.” Daina protested.
“Virtually immortal; I don't age but I can be killed,” Jaunee corrected.
“And you're capable of extraordinary feats.”
“Yes, I am physically superior to a human being. I'm smarter, faster, stronger etcetera … However, these traits do not make me a magical creature.”
“Come on! They say you can bend metal bars with your mind, ignite fire and cast spells!” Daina protested.
“Yeah, I'm secretly a Jedi.” Jaunee laughed, “You caught me. I'm the incestuous daughter of Luke and Leia.”
“Are you?” Daina replied, and Jaunee could not read if she was being serious.
“Non!” Jaunee began. “However, you are correct that I am capable of performing magic,” She admitted.
“See!” Daina replied.
“Magic, as you refer to it is nothing more than a form of energy one can learn to harness with practice and effort. There is nothing supernatural or magical about it. All energies obey the laws of physics. However, your human understanding of physics still has not reached its full maturity ... A few decades ago flying to the moon was considered science fiction. Just imagine what you could accomplish a century from now, assuming a nuclear war doesn’t extinguish human life. You could be immortal, all of you.” Jaunee said, hopefully.
“Do you really believe it's possible?” Daina asked, now keenly interested. She thought back to her life, to her every-morning ritual of looking in the mirror — looking for graying hairs. What a dream it would be to be forever young.
“Oui ... I believe that it is. But for this dream to become real …” Jaunee mistakenly replied to Daina's thoughts. “… The light will have to finally overcome the darkness.”
“What is the light then, and what is the darkness?” Daina asked, forgetting her role as interviewer.
“Oh it's nothing magical…to put plainly. The darkness is a part of human nature, the vices of the world. People need to realize money is just paper, faith is not a justification for hatred or murder. Nothing which exists is neither inherently evil nor good. These are just man-made concepts. The advancement of science allows mankind to cure the ills of the world, or to destroy on a global scale…in the end, we all pay for what we’ve done. You have to mature as a species, to take responsibility or find yourselves destroyed. This is my wakeup call to you, the world is escalating to a very dark era but it’s not fate, nor divine will. This is cause and effect, science.” Jaunee explained, and it seemed that she wanted to elaborate further, to give a full speech but decided not to.
“I get it, science makes us powerful now, so you’ve chosen to make your presence known before we find out on our own.” Daina said.
“True, but I’m not talking only about the dynamics between us and you but the dynamics between man and man, the dynamics between man and nature. You’re in control, for good or ill.” Jaunee replied.
“Anything else?” asked Daina.
"Yeah, something about racism always bothered me. It’s like that scene in planet of the apes where the astronaut saw the apes arguing which is better, a gorilla, orangutan or chimpanzee is superior and he was telling them 'But you're all apes!' So yeah, it's kind of like that. You’re all human for us." Jaunee added excitedly.
"We're all apes?" Daina repeated.
"You’re all human." Jaunee repeated. Daina seemed to be day-dreaming, or very focused. Jaunee didn't hear the static interference whispering instructions.
“Let's do a short break,” She said and got up. “I'm going to make me some coffee. Do you want some?” She asked, and signaled the cameraman to stop recording. Jaunee nodded her approval with a smile.
“Black, one sugar,” She replied. And as she said these words, a third group of soldier opened the glass doors into the building.
“Gamma team is in position,” was heard over the radio. When Jaunee would attempt to leave, Strike Teams would surround her on all fronts.