Ink Notes # 4

In the Midst

In the darkness, the stars sat still amongst the sky. A horse adjusted his footing and breathed out in a whine. Faintly, in the stillness, a warrior had his head buried between his legs. It was dreadfully quiet and he did his best to maintain the soberness although pain seared through his heart. He knew, all too well, that his life had been altered forever. His Captain, oh sweet Captain, had been slain. Never in his life had he been as inspired as much as he had would she would speak. He could hear her strong voice now as thunder rumbling inside his mind. He felt sick. He questioned everything. He trusted no one.

The dust swirled around about him as he looked at the vast open land that shadowed where the war had been. It seemed as if all time stood still now for so many were gone. His delicate eyes had seen too much and distaste filled his mouth as he gazed upon it. He remembered such hard times wishing he could run away from the madness but his loyalty made him stay. He would fight and he did because he triumphed her cause. He knew he had been fashioned into something better for joining the rebellion. He knew her face would linger in his mind for all time. He wished, even dreamt, that the outcome had been different. Couldn't he could have paid the ultimate price instead?

Where would his life lead him now? What would happen to her brilliant army?, he thought. He knew the rules and they wouldn't change them just for peace. Control by the leadership may be regained and the all to real punishments would be carried out to prove their point. He worried incessantly: Couldn't they see how courageous all of his fellow warriors had been in the face of such disgusting cruelty? Who would they follow now and where would it lead them? The fight had needed to be fought but now he anguished that the price had been too high. He believed no one and didn't trust his own thoughts. Even the thoughts he had of her would not stop, even as he tried to forget, and what she did for their world. His soul had changed. He had to remember what others would not. So many had made their decision that she was evil, perhaps, possessed. All of this came about because of a thread of lies, as though their own deception, it had triggered their unbelief. Instead he deeply felt belief, that with what he knew had truly happened in those chaotic final moments it would change the legacy of her destiny and now also his own. He had never wanted this responsibility but he also knew that even without her he couldn't give up. Not now, when the rebellion had seemed to worked as long as it had.

This task, to remember and renew the spirit of her life and bring honor back to her name, lay ahead of him on an uneasy path were his pain would have to tread. He would give his heart for the cause and this momentum gave him strength. He knew it would not bring her back but the memory of her would linger and this brought him a glimpse of peace. Her tale was one that must be told with power and conviction for it would always be vibrant in his mind. It would be one he would pass on and fight for. More than that, he would find a way to tell it undauntingly. For the fact remained, that in the midst of all of this turmoil rattling his very existence, he knew the truth.