--Following what sounded like a lumberjack going about his trade, the young lad, with no more than fifteen summers behind him, approached with caution. Nobody was supposed to be chopping down trees in this neck of the woods today, or he’d have heard about it back at the village. No, this is where the others told him he’d find the “legendary swordsman”. Was the swordsman in trouble? Were these the sounds of combat? The boy removed the sickle he had strapped at his belt and held it at the ready as he was advancing. Sure enough, among the trees, he noticed the silhouette of a man, wildly swinging his claymore with a single hand, burying the blade deep into the tree trunks.
The boy asked, sheepishly -- Um, excuse me! Sir?
--Zarak shot him down with a deadly stare, as his sword raised to rend the boy. However, Zarak noticed the boy’s eyes held no killing intent, even though he appeared to be wielding his sickle as a weapon, rather than a farming tool.
-Put that away before you get yourself killed. – Zarak said, lowering his guard.
-Yes sir, sorry sir!
Visibly pissed, Zarak asked --What do you want?
-Are you Aidan? I am… My name is Ravi, sir! (Slamming a fist at his chest)
Zarak, pointing his sword at Ravi -- I’m not going to drink with you. I’m not going to teach you how to wield a sword. I’m not going to be your buddy, and I’m not going to be the godfather of your child. Why can’t you people just leave me alone? Get the hell out of here!
--Ravi was shaken by Zarak’s contemptuous roar, but he couldn’t run away. Something made him stay even when every fiber in his body started screaming, warning him about impending danger.
With watery eyes, Ravi spoke -- That’s not why I’m here sir! Please, hear me out!
--Zarak sighed and stayed his blade. Once more, he mustered up some patience and became the kind young villager Aidan, son of Gottfried and Thalia Lowenheart, and brother of Yolanda Lowenheart.
-Make it short, Ravi.
-Thank you sir. How would you… What do you think about vengeance, sir?
-Vengeance?
-Yes sir. Me and a group of men from the village can’t take this anymore. It just isn’t fair that they should get away with what they’ve done… We can’t let it pass.
The constant “sir” annoyed Zarak, as he was only a few years older than this boy. However, he would probably be irked all the same if the boy spoke as if they were equals. He replied -- So what?
After a short, confused pause, the boy continued -- …Well, we find them! And we make the bastards pay!
Aidan, snickering -- Grow up kid. They’ll just dice you into minced meat. And besides, haven’t you heard the saying “an eye for an eye leaves the whole word blind”?
The boy welled up with tears -- I don’t care about any of that! I just can’t go back to the way things were before… That’s just insane! All of those chicken-shits who refused to join us can just all go to hell! Please tell me you’re not one of them…
-Listen to yourself kid. You wanna do this so people wouldn’t think you’re a chicken?
Stolen novel; please report.
-No. I want to do this because there is nothing else left for me. I feel as if I’m losing my mind, rewinding it all in my head… -- Ravi replied, regaining his composure.
--Aidan was about to tell him all about how he should just bury those feelings and leave it all be… Locked away tidily in some dark corner of his mind. “You shouldn’t throw your life away.” These words were at the tip of his tongue, but contemplating what Ravi said had caused him to unintentionally open up that same chest in his own thoughts. Poison seeped out of it and darkened his heart. But Aidan never cried. He never complained to anyone. It just wasn’t his thing. It was useless, attention seeking behaviour that yielded no result, and thus – a complete waste of time. So how was he supposed to deal with this? And really, what else was left for him? Go back to Bartertown to steal gold until he is inevitably betrayed by someone, and his limp, hanging body adorns the town square? Was there even a point to making a choice? It seemed that life already had its own course. As if every corner he turned was leading to the same street. He felt like he was drowning in a river because he’s swimming against the tide. Whatever course he took, it felt futile. He had also thought about staying in the village to see if his sister would ever wake up, but he couldn’t even gather the courage to enter her room. He couldn’t bear to see her. He merely stood in front of the doorway a couple of times, wracked with pain. He remembered Yolanda vividly, dancing in the sunflower fields just outside the village with a big, beautiful smile on her face. Memories of days long past, lying in the grass and wasting away their youth in child’s play. Her voice sang in his mind and her dress fluttered in the spring breeze. Memories of how he comforted her when her rag doll tore. Memories of how he slapped her when she was being cheeky to their mother. Memories of how she held his hand to lend him courage during a thunderstorm that shook their house. Memories shattered and soiled by the one of her lying broken and bloodied on that wretched table.
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--Was he really here, fighting the pain of his wounds to chunk trees, just to keep from losing his edge? Or perhaps he too was running away, just like the other villagers?
Impatiently, Ravi asked -- What is there to think about? You can feel it in your bones too, right?
--Aidan could not define the emotion which bound him to this choice. Perhaps it was an urge to die and escape the punishment he felt. Or perhaps the flame of life, outraged at the force pressing against it to dim its light. At any rate, he felt there was but one answer to make. He replied – “…I will come.”
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--Thanks for reading. This post concludes chapter VII, so we only have two more chapters before the story comes to a conclusion. Be sure to tune back in on Friday, to see the next update. If you liked my work, please rate, follow or favorite, to support my content. Cheers!