She was almost dead. But that did not stop Uno’sja from saving her. As he fought his way through the enemy he roared and beat his sword against the enemy’s sword, creating a great clanging noise. His soldiers were cutting easily into the tribesmen, who were only focused on one thing: killing Asha’sja.

This is not fast enough, he thought. If he did not save the uniter from the jaws of death all would be lost. He roared again, this time trying to make it sound girlish so that some of the tribesmen would be attracted to him.

It worked. Almost immediately they were on him, trying to hack at him, but his soldiers surrounded him and together, they were able to cut through them.

Finally, after about thirty seconds more hacking, they were able to reach Asha’sja. She was fighting as hard as she could, cuts scaring her face, one of her eyes bleeding. She would never be the same again, he knew.

Behind her were the same tribesmen in the same blind rage, but at the same time, not the same tribesmen. They were the same in that but they were different in the people that they were.

Uno’sja danced around them, his soldiers forming a ring around Asha’sja to protect her. But now that they were focused on them, it was much harder to protect even themselves.

More and more of his soldiers were streaming in, though, and that meant that they could kill more of the enemy, and that also meant that more of them could join the ring around Asha’sja.

This was always unwise. He thought to himself. But it is what I should do. I must die protecting the uniter, if that is what it takes to save her.

From behind, he heard Asha’sja rise. He turned around to see her emerge through the lines and fight off even more soldiers.

That woman is an immortal, He thought, But at the same time, she is not. She cannot go risking her life like this when she is the symbol of our movement!

But moving would leave a hole in their lines, which would expose her and so instead he called more of the soldiers to fill the gap.

And suddenly, after the slaughter, it was over: the last enemy tribesmen were being killed, forming a ring around the ring.

“Men!” He yelled. “Let’s finish it!”

Killing his tribesman, and leaving a hole in the ring, he rushed over to join Asha’sja, who was slumped over, a sword piercing her arm. He knew that she wouldn’t last this way as she was losing blood fast. His training as a healer told him that. He had to get her to the healers, but he didn’t know if even they could do anything about it. This situation might be beyond even them…when he got her there.

Quickly, knowing that this was risky, as the men didn’t think highly of soldiers, especially chiefs, who could heal, he took out a package of bandages that he had taken just in case this happened to her. He took out the sword and, as she cried out in pain, quickly bandaged her up. He finally took her up and carried her to the House of Healing, and despite her groaning and gasping, it seemed that she was going to be okay.

She couldn’t die on him. She couldn’t die.

When he finally got her to the House of Healing, she was given immediate attention by all of the healers that could help her, which were only a few.

I woke up in the House of the Healing, seeing healers crowded about me.

“What happened?” I asked. I had thought that I was going to die, die in a way that would satisfy what I had worked for for so long.

But instead I would die in pain. Or maybe I wouldn’t die…yet.

“Shhh,” One them, a blondie, said. “It’s almost done.”

“What is?” I asked, hoping that I wouldn’t die here. I wanted to live to fight another day, and that meant that I couldn’t die right now. I just couldn’t…or else I would not be able to unite the world.

Had that become my driving goal in life? I asked myself, Instead of preserving myself or anyone else?

But that didn’t matter, because I was almost successful at it. It seemed that we had won this battle, and that meant that we had defeated our enemies. Hopefully enough of their chiefs were still alive to order an honorable surrender.

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If not, then we had just killed thousands of people for nothing, which was not a savory thought to have, but it was a thought that I must have if I was going to protect my people.

My people? When had they become my people? Weren’t they always their own people? It was a good thought to have because it compelled me to protect them, but it was not a truthful thought.

“Shh.” They said again. It was getting annoying even though I knew exactly why they were doing it.

I tried to quiet myself by looking around. This House of Healing was massive compared to the meager Houses of Healing that I had seen before. This one showed such a majesty with its high ceiling and seemingly never ending Hall for the Healing. On each side there were two offices, each of which had fireplaces with fires burning in them.

How long had I been out? Where was I?

The second question was much easier to answer than the first as I was obviously in one of the cities, where they could afford a House of the Healing so large. But which city?

I tried to answer the former question first, but I quickly fell asleep before I could do any such thing.

I woke up again, this time with Uno’sja over me in a chair made out of stone. He looked so young, like he was just in his early twenties when I knew him to be about thirty.

“It has been such a long time…” He said.

“How long?” I immediately asked, hoping against hope to know how long I had been in the House of the Healing for. Actually, I didn’t know whether or not I was actually in a House of Healing, but I did not know what else to call it.

“Years and years.” He said, “Oh, so long.”

“I’ve been out for years?” I asked, confused by this. I couldn’t have been out for so long.

“No,” He said, “Only a year.”

“What?” I asked, still confused. How had I been out for only a year? My wounds hadn’t been that bad..surely not. They should be only scratches compared to what would really make someone sleep for almost a year…

But I hadn’t been sleeping for a year, not exactly. I had woken up when they were treating me, meaning that I must’ve woken up other times, even though I might not remember it.

“But…” I was still confused by it, “How could I have been out for a year? It doesn’t feel like that.”

I suddenly felt like a confused child again, like the one that I had been so many years before when I had understood nothing. Well, almost nothing. Oh, I had been so naïve back then, thinking that the world was black and white. I wished that I could go back to those days, though, the days of blissful ignorance when many more things had been happy than sad.

“Strange things happen.” He answered, almost distantly, “When you close your eyes and enter the Deep.”

“What?” It was still not clear to me, and it was even less clear now, but I felt that maybe I could see it with more clarity if I really tried.

I didn’t try, because then my mind jumped to the most important question of them all.

“Have we won? Are all of the tribes and cities united?” I asked, starting to think of more questions, but he waved a hand at me as I opened my mouth.

He smiled. “We have won. All of the tribes have been united. They just had a council a few weeks ago saying that you were truly the uniter. They held a vote on it, too. The vote, of course, was unanimous. Even some of the rebel chiefs agree—you have fulfilled the prophecy. There can be no denying your position, they determined, so long as you wake up from your long nap.”

“What—what happened to me while I was out?” I asked. This was beginning to sound like endless questions, and if it had been me I would’ve made a convenient excuse, but he graciously smiled and answered the question.

“We almost thought that you were going to die at some points.” He said. “Your heart started to slow and we thought that you were fighting for air. A miracle, it is. A miracle that you pulled through, with all your wounds and such.”

I nodded, but I had a feeling that I didn’t really appreciate my life for what it was: a precious gift that had been renewed over and over by God this past year.

But maybe that was alright.

“Which position are you?” I asked him, a more random question than I’d ever asked, but he answered it all the same.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I mean—are you a chief, a general—what position are you?” I told him.

“Oh, a chief, now.” He said. “The people had a hard time accepting me at first, but yes, I am chief of ‘Sja. They quite like me now. They once lined up and they…well that’s a story for another day.”

I nodded, but deep inside me, I felt a great longing for that story, as once I had felt a great longing for my father’s stories about the Golden Age of Humanity.

I smiled and suddenly felt great excitement. We were getting back to those golden days! It would surely not happen in my lifetime, but in generations, generations soon, actually, we would be in the Golden Age again. Maybe they would call it the New Golden Age of Humanity, or maybe they would have no knowledge of it.

But then came the fear. What if humanity screwed it all up again? What if we couldn’t hold onto our glory days and collapsed into war and almost killed ourselves again? What then? Was history a wheel, with things happening again and again? If so, then that meant that nobody had free will, which was terrifying.

I racked my head for an idea. I would have to get an idea for how to solve this problem…maybe uniting more of humanity into one people? No, it had to be simpler than that. What if we just…educated them? What if we made sure that they knew good from evil so that when they looked it in its face they would be able to stop it…what if we made the whole system of leadership fairer…what if the ordinary citizen could get elected chief of chiefs? That would certainly mean much less unrest…and much less war as a result.

A plan started to form in my head. It was a daring one, but if it worked, humanity would survive for much longer than it had in the Golden Age. The New Golden Age would last forever if it worked.

“Chief ‘Sja,” I said, “Let me give you my first order…bring this plan back to the council of chiefs.”

And so I told him the plan, everything, every little detail of how it would work. Some of it I made up on impulse, but some of it I didn’t.

At the end of it, he smiled.

“Let me tell you a story,” He said, “A story of victory…a story of triumphing over the odds to win the long-sought prize. Let me tell you a story…of the Golden Age. The New One. The one that is in the building.”

I smiled and sat back in my bed, for I knew that it was ours.