The After-End - #2

He journeyed through the land, keeping track of the days spent. He didn't know the route but trod on the path with his instinct. Although he sensed a familiarity with the plains and mount surrounding him. As if he had once walked the path before. After walking for a very long time, he came by the path that led to a small village. This village was hidden behind thick and dense greenery comprising of wild bushes and trees. Seeing the remote setting of the small houses with tree houses hanging above them, brought back a memory. He had been here before. The small houses were made from bamboo and dried palm fronds, the thatched roof was woven from stacks of dried up hays, fallen palm leaves, and tall stalks of dead brown grasses. He remembered how they had dug small holes into a gigantic tree of strong roots and great height. His people had carved out the inside in any way that suits them. His friends had stayed in these treehouses throughout their lives.  Then he remembered building a house on the ground because his parents had found a girl for him, for he was in line to get married and produce an offspring for the bloodline. But, the sight before him wasn't what he had expected to see, even for a million years. The houses and trees were set ablaze, he saw his friends fighting defending their families, bodies hanging on the mouths of some brute. They have been raided by uncivilized Brute riders. The old animosity between their two clans has always been a story told from generation to generation but was never at any time acted out.  

He hurried through the entrance and tried to avoid any confrontation. He saw one of his childhood friends being overpowered by a gigantic alligator. He took another route to search for his family. He walked cautiously trying to conceal himself among the haze of shrubs. He prayed silently for safety from the brutes. The news about their ability to trace people had been the story his people tell by in the night of the full moon to prepare their minds when the battle comes. It was told not to instill fear but to help them to be vigilant. Standing behind a thick green bush, he noticed a baby sleeping, he wanted to carry the child but at the last minute, he thought otherwise.

"I have to find my family first, they are more important. This will slow me down".

As he made to cross a tiny bridge where a small stream of water passes underneath, he heard the piercing scream of his friend and it unnerved him but increased his pace instead. After a moment, he found his house, the thatched roof of his house was already on fire. He ran forward and opened the wooden door but it didn't open, he assumed no one was in. Turning back on the path, he heard a faint whimper and rushed back.

"Mother...mother?" He started hitting the door.

"My son! Help me, please!" She cried aloud.

"It won't budge" he shouted annoyingly.

"Why are you so weak? Can't you push with all your might?" She screamed from the house.

"I'm trying!" He shouted back

He jerked and pulled, he kicked with his good leg still there was no difference. 

I need to get something, something bigger

He looked around, his eyes roamed about, he saw a wooden rod, it looked like a walking stick, he smashed the door with it but the rod broke into pieces.

"Please my son, open the door, the fire is getting on my dress," she shouted hysterically.

"I'm trying, don't you think I'm trying?" 

I need to get something better, better than a plank of wood.

He searched again for what to use to break down the door but he couldn't find anything useful. Though he kept hitting the door again and again it wasn't opening.

"You are just a failure, this is all your fault" she continued, her voice getting quiet.

The roof eventually caved in and she screamed. He trembled to the dirt in shock, the guilt he felt almost blinded him. He began to question his action.

I must be really weak

I couldn't  save my mother

Then that voice that lacked emotion spoke again, but this time into his soul, crumbling the sane defense he had set up.

"Such a weakling! You could not save your mother and you tend to save yourself? Such a weakling!" The voice repeated the statement over and over again.

This mother's last words played on his mind and sealed the voice out.

"You are just a failure, this is all your fault"

The words destabilized him, he glanced up at the burning house again, the dark mist was emerging from the remains and it moved in zig-zag towards him. He drew back and the mist became a shrouded figure in garb, it had a hood covering its head, the face was hidden behind it. He was stunned but recovered quickly, he shifted back and stood on his feet. He could not find his voice, he felt a lump in his truth and swallowed. 

When did the brute rider get such magic

"Who are you?"

Then, suddenly, he felt the ground shaking beneath his feet and glanced behind him, he saw the alligator that had attacked his friend running towards him, he leaped and fled, the animal followed in hot pursuit.

He ran for miles

miles before he could escape the unrelenting brute,  he leaned against a huge black leafed hyssop tree to recuperate his strength. He kept glancing behind his back, he felt a prickly nerve raising at the back of his neck, he felt paranoia.

I'm being followed. 

He perceived that someone was watching him, he didn't know who and he couldn't pinpoint exactly how he was feeling. He strained his ears to listen to any strange sound from footsteps, a broken twig, rufflings among the trees, or a disturbance in the wind, instead, he heard water splashing and he crept towards the sound to investigate. 

Leaving the forest of green trees, he landed on an open clearing, it was filled with soft loose sand, tiny but smooth stones. The clearing was surrounded by a large transparent stream, the only outlet was the waterfall which is at the end of the stream. 

He walked into the clear water and searched for fish but found none, feeling thirsty, he knelt in the water and drank from it. He spilled it back instantly.

It's bitter, this will only make me more thirsty.

He remembered the hyssop tree he was leaning on earlier, his father had once told him about its usefulness. He went back to it, brought out his dagger from his waist, and cut several small pieces of the bark from the hyssop tree. He carefully placed them in his bag, attached the dagger to his waist and he walked slowly back to the stream. He opened his bag and turned it upside down, the brown barks fell into the water. Some landed at the bottom of the stream while a few of the husk floated away in the slow water current. He threw the bag to the sand.

After some time, he knelt into the water and tasted it. The water was not as bitter as it was anymore but it changed from being colorless to a dark color. He drank with his mouth to the water. Having drunk to his heart content, he took his time to freshen up. He discarded his clothes and weapon on the soft sand too before jumping into the water.  He swam passively to the edge of the stream and back. Then when he finally opted out of the stream, he put on his cloth and hooked his dagger to his belt. He laid on the sand, used his satchel as a pillow. He stared at the sky and noticed that it was getting darker. He stood up and placed the strap across his shoulders. He walked back to the hyssop tree he had marked and climbed up the tree to pass the night instead of sleeping on the clearing that was close to the stream or by the banks. He feared that the brute might be on the search for him. Laying on his back to the big branch, his mind dwelt on the shrouded figure he saw earlier and wondered who the person was, he felt the person wanted him dead. He did not know of anyone who might want to kill, he had always listened to the priest and had followed all instructions and laws. He had tried not to steal from people. He kept thinking about many reasons until he dozed off.

His little self stood barefooted at the edge of a hill that was close to his village. He was dressed only in his white shorts. He wasn't more than a boy of seven. He looked down, his pregnant mother was below washing clothes by the river.

"Mama see me!" He said as he waved his two little hands at her

She looked up from her washing and smiled at him shook her head playfully, and returned to washing the clothes. In an instant, he evolved into an adult and found himself swimming in the river and saw his mother in the water drowning. There was no land, everywhere was covered in water. The beautiful atmosphere suddenly turned gloomy, he swam towards her but she seemed to be drowning farther and farther away. She was terrified and cried out for help. He swam towards her again but she was carried away on the turbulent current. He tried to swim against the tide to his mother but he has pushed away instead. He felt faint and his hands seemed heavy on his shoulders.

When his mother sank beneath the waters, he dived under but he could not see her. He came up for air and yelled for her but she wasn't on the surface. He breathed in and dipped in again into the river, this time he saw her and she looked right at him from a distance. Her long brown hair was floating around her and she seemed to be breathing underwater as bubbles came out of her mouth. Then she said in a resounding voice that was different from her own, it sounded like a legion of voices speaking at the same time.

How could you let this happen to us, we are your family, this is all your fault.

He gasped and patted his mouth a little bit. He tried to suck in a breathe but he inhaled water instead.  The water went to his head and filled his lungs. He struggled to come up out of the water but he found himself drowning instead.

He woke up abruptly, his body was drenched in cold sweat and fatigue. He struggled to adjust his eyes to the bright light of the morning. As he turned his head, he noticed he was seeing tree roots.  He felt the hard surface beneath him and discovered that he was lying on the ground. He had fallen from the gigantic tree he slept on. Sitting up he  remembered his dream, he was saddened about his mother's death, 

It's all my fault, I should have tried harder.

I kept on pulling the door.

He paused his thoughts and searched deeply.

I should have pushed

Why didn't I push? Why?

Why didn't I push instead of pulling?

If I had pushed the door, she might be with me now.

I killed her, I KILLED MY MOTHER!

Another strike of guilt stunned him and made him sick, he rose to his legs and moved towards the buttress root of the hyssop tree, and vomited there. Feeling emotionally weak, he staggered on his way back to the river to clean up his mouth, the stream has turned back to its bitter taste.  He was too tired to do anything about it. He washed off the dirt on his face and brushed off the mud on his cloth. At that moment, he proposed in his mind and planned strategies to save his family.

I need to find my family, 

I couldn't save my mother but...I need to find my father

I must save him, but who could want him dead?

I must save him and no one must hinder me.

Leaving the forest, he finds his way to the next village in search of his father. His father is a bald,  tall, lanky sun-kissed light in complexion man, he's skilled in the act of compelling concoctions and poultice to heal several illnesses, diseases, and any bone growth dysfunction or dislocation. Due to his father's profession and reputation, he was never at home, he rarely stayed in the village too, he traveled far and wide gathering knowledge and herbs. There was a time he had a lot of patients in the village, he almost turned their home into an infirmary but the boil plague - caused by the accumulation of polluted air and the heat of the sun changed his mind.

When his mother became sick by the plague after being contaminated by one of the infected patients. His father was so scared that he stayed by her and tirelessly treated her all by himself. She made him swear on her sickbed never to bring the patients home or treat them in the house.

He wasn't fortunate enough to receive any good news concerning his quest from anyone on the road, or the next village. They all said that they have never met his father or knew where he could be, but he observed that they looked at him strangely, he checked out his habit and his shoes there was nothing wrong with his dressing, he swung his satchel that was resting on his abdomen to his back with his right hand and the empty compartment laid on his upper body.

I am okay, what's wrong?

His face lighted up, he had remembered 

The dagger!

He removed it from the sash holding it in place and bent down. He placed the dagger in his left leg shoe and inserted the grip inside the shoe. Standing up, he caught a glimpse of a shrouded figure in black garb with the hood covering his face moving in a hurry towards him. He was scared and hid behind a bush, the wheels in his head kept turning, he was thinking of what to do and how to defend himself.

What do I do?

Kill him, the voice said

I can't kill him. He answered

You either kill him or you'll be dead. It continued

It's true, I have to. Isn't it a sin to kill? 

Don't you need to protect yourself?

I need to…to find my father

You must kill him. It said again.

I must kill him.

He bent down and lifted his garb with his right hand and removed his Norseman crafted dagger from his shoe. He stood up and the garb dropped to his feet. He exchanged the dagger to his right hand and waited. When the figure was about to pass by he pounced on the shrouded figure. He struck his chest, the dagger pierced deeply into the person's heart. The contents the person carried on his backdropped to the ground. The ground was littered with dry brown leaves, green and brown husk which looked like hardwood, and pieces of a broken clay pot that once held the contents together. He drew off the hood covering the man's head to reveal his face, he was stunned by what he saw.

"What have I done?" He said shaken up, he sobbed on the person's chest,

I have been played, he thought 

You are such a fool.  The voice laughed at him.

"My son… why?" thick blood slipped from his father's mouth. 

I couldn't save my mother, now I have killed my father. I'm a murder, a murderer, a failure, and a murderer.

"I'm sorry Father" he sobbed on his chest. A drop of tear left his father's eye and passed to his ear as he moaned in pain.

When he began to gasp for air, he forcefully clenched his son's hand and whispered in his ears.

"My daughter, my grandchild, and your wife...have been taken by the Grand Master" he paused to regain the little strength he had on. When he did, he continued 

"It's no use going after them, there's nothing you can do, ...you don't have what it takes to save them"

"I know you would never have the gut" he looked at him straight in the eyes 

"They are better off with him than with you...you will eventually kill them with your own hands if they stay with you " more and more blood spilled from his mouth.

"The same way, you've killed me" he relaxed his grip

He took his last breath and gave up the ghost.

He stared for a long time at the corpse, his face expressionless but his mind was in turmoil. His father's words replayed in his mind over and over again, and it tormented him. Out of the blue, a feathered arrow whistled past his face, it gave a  scratch on his cheek and a little blood stained the ground while another hit the ground a few inches to his feet.  At that instant, he looked up and saw two uniformed men with specially crafted bows and arrows dressed in the black uniforms of the Grand Master hurrying towards him and at the same time shooting arrows. He wondered how they found him. He leaped to his feet and ran for his life.