Dark Age (20 page)

Chapter 26

A
shudder as
cold as ice shot across my skin. With wide eyes I sat up and found myself in a dark room. Just a faint square of light shone through a tiny window above my head, giving outlines to everything around me. As my senses returned, so did the pain. A bloody bandage covered my burning shoulder, while the rest of my upper body lay bare.

Someone had already taken out the arrowhead and the wooden splinters to clean the wound and prevent infection. Luckily no bone felt broken.

I pushed myself onto the corner of the bed and collected my thoughts. The images of Nigel, John, and Janari’s death passed in front of my eyes. They were still fresh and so incomprehensible. It stung thinking of them. Their memory burned so much harsher in my heart than any arrow could have.

Rising from the bed I walked over to the door. An instant dizziness clouded my head, like a million needles pricking my forehead. My hand found support at the wall as I opened the door to the floor.

An absent minded looking old man, wearing a white cloak, walked through the corridor with a book in his hands, while Yorick descended the stairs from the officer quarters with loud steps.

“Doctor, why is the guard on his feet, shouldn’t he be resting,” he asked angrily.

“Where is Peter?” I demanded before the doctor could respond.

Yorick gave the doctor a harsh glance and then focused back on me. He looked me straight in the eye, “By the time the guards picked the two of you up, Peter had already been dead. There was nothing we could do, I am sorry Adam.”

My eyes scanned the many doors, expecting Peter to pop out as a surprise. But no such thing happened. Unlike anyone else, Yorick gave me the news cold, hard, and fast. It took a minute until the reality registered in my mind.

As the first tear rolled down my cheek I kicked the door slam shut. In all my anger I punched the wall so forcefully that my knuckles bled. I was never a loud person but I needed to release my anger. Ignoring the damaged shoulder I knocked over the chair, and flipped over the second bed in the room.

It all just did not make sense… all of them dead. Peter, Nigel, Janari. The little stability, the few friends I had, wiped out from one day to the next.

Yorick entered and observed me carefully, “The best thing to do now is to get rest. We need you back out there as soon as possible. If the doctor allows it, you can bring him to the city tomorrow.” He paused for a moment, receiving no reaction but my slowed breathing. “Who were friends close to Peter that we should notify?” Yorick asked.

“Nig…,” instinctively I wanted to say Nigel, but recalled the arrow darting through his chest. “Stephan and James were his closest friends,” I corrected myself. “Stephan works in the mines and James on the fields.” Before I turned away I swallowed the lump in my throat, and added with some composure, “Thank you, Yorick. If there is nothing else I am going to go back to my bed. I think I need some quiet.”

Throughout the night, haunting images of Peter, Janari, and Nigel kept me awake. Some showed me their dying moments, others were completely harmless. But the innocent dreams hurt the most. Seeing myself with Peter and Nigel talking around the campfire or teaching Janari words while watching the stars, was just another reminder of the moments I would never be able to relive again.

The morning drew closer as I lay in bed with open eyes. A fly entered the room and joyfully buzzed through the air. With nothing better to do, I observed the little creature in the hope to fall back asleep. Its relaxed flight was many times suddenly interrupted by frantic fear. With a touch of madness it flew against the window repeatedly in the attempt to get out. Eventually it resigned, only to try again a few minutes later.

When the doctor came in, the little creature escaped the room through the door. From one of the shelves he fetched a large role of bandages and took a seat next to my bed. Carefully he tied them around my arm and shoulder, forming a sling.

“The arrow pierced into muscle tissue,” he said knotting the bandage at my back. “You will have to wear this restraint day and night from now on. Otherwise your shoulder will be damaged permanently. It needs to grow back together, and that may take a few months.”

It was time to bring them to the city. Peter lay peacefully and undisturbed in one of the body carts in front of the officer-building. Dressed in full armor, his hands joined at his chest holding a sword facing down. His rested face morphed in my mind back to the boy that had talked to me at my celebration. Looking at him, our many memories flashed before me from our days in the city to our years in the Guard. From our first fight in training to that final fight.

The wagon beside him carried Nigel, whose sun tanned skin had turned pallid. His mischievous smile was wiped away by a frozen look of anguish.

By the time they had found John’s body, it had been mutilated by the beasts so much that Yorick decided to just bury him and send in a stone. The third wagon therefore held a tombstone with John’s name, birth and death date.

Igor, who had abandoned us along with Marc the moment we were ambushed, reported that the bodies of the savages had vanished by the time he returned to recover Nigel and John. Somewhere in the woods, Janari too would be buried and disappear from the surface of the earth forever.

Stephan and James stood at my side with pained but compassionate faces. Without words we hugged another, barely able to suppress our tears. We all had seen death, yet it had never been so real and close to us.

Stephan, James, Igor and Marc pulled the three wagons down the narrow road to the city gates. Our grave expressions gave away that none of us were in the mood to talk. The constant scratching and squeaking sound of the wheels mixed with the light trotting of our feet created a somber song that accompanied us down the path, over the bridge and towards the gate. Unable to help due to my damaged shoulder I walked besides Stephan who drew Peter’s cart behind him. A city guard on top of the walls spotted us and gave orders to open the gates.

Slowly the gigantic gate opened itself up to us. With the first crack in between the gate doors, I felt as if I was dreaming. In front of me lay my childhood and my uncertain future. As the gate opened further and further, my misery turned into a slight hope that I could catch a glimpse of Katrina or my parents. But all I found was vacancy; Most prominently the vacancy that sat in my heart.

We brought the carts all the way to the gate, until the city guards stopped us, “We will take it from here. No Grey Guardsmen are allowed inside the city.”

After a moment of contempt, the others let go of the cart handles and sat them down. One last time I reached out and squeezed Peter’s hand. It was a strange feeling knowing that I would never see him again.

All these years I had challenged God, heaven and the afterlife. For the first time I prayed that it was all true. I could not accept the thought of his inanimate body slowly being eaten by the insects in the ground. I kept telling myself that as we walked towards the city gates, he was approaching the gates of heaven.

His fingers slipped from my grip as the city guards pulled the wagons inside. Once they were out of our reach the gates closed again. The five of us stood there, left behind, staring after our friends and into our long-lost home.

“May all the girls that died young chase you down the streets of heaven, brother,” I whispered as the gates shut.

Cold crept down my back in gruesome anticipation of the all too familiar sound that was about to follow.

With its ominous rhythm, the city bell rang thrice.

Chapter 27

I
could not
recall what date it was. Ever since they had released me from the hospital a day might have passed; or it could have been a month… or perhaps a year. Time was of no relevance anymore. Every day in my life I had taken the friends and family around me for granted. Now that Peter, Janari, and Nigel were dead, and Terric had vanished from the face of the earth, I felt like a ghost trapped inside my body, trying to escape.

I continued to do my duties in the woods, but was so absentminded that I often did not notice the passing of time. Every now and then a guard would snap in front of my face to bring me back to the present or ask if Iwas alright, which I would shrug off with a smile.

What few knew was that I still saw them. One day I walked in the woods to fetch wood from the ground, when all of the sudden something pushed me. Peter had surprised me from behind. Scared I started to run away from him. When I thought I had left his specter behind, he suddenly stood right in front of me.

“What is wrong, Adam?” he said to me, “Don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Peter, your best friend.”

I shoved him off, “You are not real! And you are not Peter.”

“If I weren’t real, why are you talking to me?” he asked.

I spun around to escape his sight.

“I have missed you, Adam,” said Janari stepping from behind a tree. She came closer to me and brushed my hair playfully back.

I pushed her off my body, and tried to run. That instant, I tripped, “Got ya there ma friend,” Nigel said with his leg extended to trip me.

I pinched myself, trying to prove that I did not feel anything. I needed to wake up from this nightmare. But I felt everything.

“Why don’t you talk to me Adam,” Janari asked with teary eyes, “I have missed you. Talk to me, my love.”

“Get away demon,” I hissed at her, and pulled myself up.

“You are not leaving me,” she cried with a sudden stern tone.

The moment I turned to run away from her, Terric stood in my way. His face was pale as ice, “You abandoned me!”

“I never abandoned you! What happened to you?”

“I cannot tell you,” he said.

They surrounded me and stepped closer and closer.

“Get off me!” I screamed and pushed Nigel away.

The light dimmed around us. Nigel looked up at me with possessed eyes. Blood began to emerge from his chest at the spot where the arrow had killed him. “You murdered me,” he said in a low voice and reached for me with his hand.

Peter’s skin had paled. His chest was blood smeared, and his body rawboned. He raised his bony finger towards me, “You let me die!”

Terric grabbed me by the shoulder, whispering in my ear with a faint dying voice, “You betrayed me!”

Janari at last dug her fingers into my sides as the blood began to flow from her stomach,“You left me behind!”

With hands covering my eyes I sunk to the ground screaming. I wanted to drown their voices with my scream. Cowered in a ball I angrily chanted for them to go away. The darkness of closed eyes seemed so welcoming that I just wanted to leave this place behind and never return.

“Adam,” voices said, “Adam!” over and over.

A hand shook me violently by the shoulder until I stopped the chanting.

I lifted my eyes and found Igor and Marc standing over me. The others had gone.

“Are you alright?” Marc asked.

“Are you crazy? Clearly he is not alright. What is going on Adam?” Igor interrupted.

“Didn’t you see them?” I asked.

“See who?” asked Igor lifting his shoulders in confusion.

“They are real. They even touched me. Nigel tripped me. That’s why I fell,” I said defensively.

“We watched you, Adam. Nobody was there. Nigel is dead. You were talking to trees and tripped over a root,” he said pointing to a root sticking out of the ground down below my feet.

“Go see the doctor,” Marc hissed. “You are a danger to yourself and us all.”

When I went to see the doctor he made me drink a sweet liquid. The visions ceased, but made my senses foggy and my mind drowsy. Despite the tiredness, I could not fall asleep. I decided to get off the medication and told the doctor that the hallucinations had passed. But they only grew stronger.

After a while I became friends with them. No longer was I lonely, because wherever I went they always accompanied me. They were as real as everything else.

The closer I grew to them the farther I was pushed away by the other guards. When I walked by I saw them make faces, ridiculing me behind my back. At supper, when James and Stephan were not around, I sat with Peter, Janari, Nigel and Terric at a separate table. Often times when I talked to them the room grew silent, with eyes inconspicuously pointed at me.

It was such a moment, when from the far end of the common-hall Stephan emerged. “What are you looking at,” he hissed at the men staring at me. He sat down where I had seen Nigel sit. “Hello Adam,” he said.

“Good evening, Stephan, nice of you to join us,” I reciprocated.

Uncomfortably he looked around seeing only me at the table, “Listen, Adam. Do you know what day is today?”

“Wednesday,” I answered.

“It is Monday. And it is also your twenty-fifth birthday.”

“That can’t be,” I waved off, looking towards Terric as if Stephan were an idiot.

“Focus on me, Adam. Yes, it is November 11th, 2162. Over two years have passed since the ambush happened. I was not there, and I was not nearly as close to Peter as you were, but it is time to move on. The men ridicule you and if this continues they will execute you believing that you are possessed by a demon.”

He took my hands in the middle of the table, “You have friends, right here, made of flesh and blood. James and I will always be here for you. The three of us have to stick together to make it to the end. But you need to stop seeing whatever you are seeing.”

“I can’t,” I stuttered. “They are always there.”

“You have to focus on the present, while always keeping the goal—the future—in mind. So first, you need to forget the past. Convince yourself that the people you see in your hallucinations are dead. Don’t acknowledge them, and do not talk to them,” he explained. “Then start connecting with real people, look at the beautiful landscapes, watch the stars… enjoy the present. At last remind yourself of what you are fighting for.”

“What am I fighting for?” I asked uncertain of everything.

Stephan reached for my neck and pulled on the eagle necklace, “That is what you are fighting for.”

The moment I began to focus on the eagle, the visions around me began to fade one by one. I looked at each for a moment, wishing them farewell for good. At last it was just me and Stephan.

“Thank you, Stephan. Most friends would have abandoned me after such a long time.”

“Those that abandon you are not your friends. Listen, I think we should spend more time together so I can keep an eye on you. I talked to Yorick, to whom you have become quite a pain in the butt. He allowed you to be transferred to the mines where I work. It would be a nice opportunity to spend our last years in the Guard together. After all you are a blacksmith.”

Next to the haunting images of the woods, the memory of my burned brother seemed little of a scare. Maybe he was right. Maybe it would help me to change scenery for once, I thought.

The coming week I joined Stephan’s camp at the mines. Despite our unpleasant first meeting I was pleased to meet another familiar face there: Constantine. He had less than two years left of service and it was evident that the past eight years had beaten the haughtiness out of him.

We were driven deep into the mines to extend the current network. With little to no fresh air, I felt almost compelled to hold my breath despite the heavy labor. Whenever we hit a metal vein, Constantine serving as the team leader called us towards it. Standing in a semi-circle, we slashed out our pickaxes back-to-back until the ore was exhausted or our shift was over.

Once night had come, we sat around the camp fire talking, singing, dancing, and even occasionally drinking. A guard to my right was smoking on a set of rolled leaves. After observing him for a moment, he handed it to me with an inviting nod. I inspected it closely, but before I could take a puff, Stephan ripped it from my grasp.

“You’ve got plenty of hallucinations already,” he said with a chuckle, trying it himself. After a series of coughs he handed it back to the man.

In the past they would camp out for the night most days. But after a few hours, Yorick’s men showed up and made us return to the cottage.

Life for once had taken order again. But as I came to see, the gods never meant for me to live in order. And so that one fateful summer day of 2163 approached. I wish I could tell of the pleasant things that happened in the Guard. But the things I remember—the moments that stand out the most— are the darkest days; the days that shaped my future, and thereby the future of the world.

Like any regular morning, Stephan and I headed out for the mines after a rather sobering breakfast. The day was brutally hot, so we tried to find shade wherever we could. Just on our short walk I could feel my skin burning. We left our heavy armor at the entrance of the mine to avoid the biting heat that already trenched us in sweat.

Entering the mine, we made our way towards the iron vein we had been working on for the past days.

Without a warning we were ambushed. The savages came storming out of different hallways with knives and axes clenched in fists. They must have hidden during the night past curfew when no one was around.

With bare upper bodies we were left defenseless. Constantine slammed his pickaxe into the side of one of them and ordered us to run. I hesitated. This was what I had trained for. But their sheer numbers made this nothing like practice.

The rest of the camp aside from me and Constantine had departed. “Go already you fool!” he yelled at me, while breaking the jaw of one of his enemies with his bare fists.

A man blocked my way, trying to stab me with a knife. With wild eyes he kept leashing forward, taunting me to make a mistake. Before he could think twice about my response, I hacked my pickaxe into his head and ran as fast as I could.

The second I ran past them, one began to follow me. He was close on my heels as I could hear his every step ring after mine. I ran faster, and so did he. The blood shot through my veins pumping and pulsing every time my feet hit the ground. He drew dangerously close to me.

The soft sound of steel reached my ears. My chaser must have drawn a small blade. I had long left my weapons behind and had nothing to protect myself. With my calves falling weak, I grabbed the next torch from the wall and yanked it at the man following me. His tunic went up in blazing lights, illuminating the dark halls like a small sun.

The madman was on fire but had not given up. He continued to run after me, down the halls, while the flames liked the skin off his flesh.

Finally, I reached a fork and dove to the left. The savage kept running and clashed full speed against a wall. With a loud thud he collapsed.

I gasped for air, rejoicing in the safety I had found. When I lifted my head, I looked at the remains of an old acquaintance: Winston Smith.