On the Wings of Hope : Prose

Instant? Eternity? How much time has truly passed?

He didn’t know - only remembered his last fight - one of twelve fighters - and a final blow of pole axe, which have crushed him.

He didn’t die? He didn’t … Enemies have considered him dead and didn’t finish off …

But … if they haven’t managed to resist them … it turns out that monastery has been plundered and razed … They haven’t stopped them, they have failed …

He moaned - even not from incredible pain, swirling throughout all his body, but from an aching sensation of melancholy and grief. They couldn’t stop them… He and eleven nameless warriors …

Having made extreme efforts and cried from a cutting pain, he managed to rise up. About thirty warriors lied motionlessly before him, having silently observing the sky. And among them were his courageous fighters. Died ones … Let they, worthy ones, be not damned, but blessed instead - and find peace in the world they are travelling to now!

He looked around - there was no sign of war galleys. This means that fight has already finished and warriors sailed back home. It means the monastery cannot be saved anymore … But maybe someone managed to survive the attack there. Somebody … even if one of monks is still alive - he is obliged to help him, obliged to come for a rescue - that way he can at least rectify his mistake. Besides, he hasn’t a way back for now, he is both the exile and a cursed one - damned by his own people … let they consider him as dead instead.

Still constraining groans from intolerable pain, he rose up and slowly started walking in the direction of monastery. One thousand meters, just one thousand meters … his debt.

He walked and fell. Then rose and walked again. And fell again. Then he started creeping by the ground.

Probably, a day passed. Possibly, a whole eternity instead. He knew not - he had one purpose and one way for now - and he was walking it. Even being practically flat-out - was still walking. And when at the long last strong walls of a monastery appeared before his obscured look, he has risen on his weak hands and smiled.

“I have found you at last”, - his lips whispered silently, and he fell unconscious.

* * *

Quiet sad song. Someone’s hands, sliding on his face. And then - a cold water stream. He groaned and moved.

“Alive!”, - he heard through a veil, enveloping him.

Alive. He lives still. What for, if he wasn’t able to fulfill his duty? What’s the point? He tried to open own eyes - but only some vague red haze welcomed him. Then he closed them and submerged into a dream.

He slept and slept. From time to time he woke up for about ten minutes - and then fell asleep once again. When he has woken up again and tried to open eyes for one more time - the bloody mirage has gone. And then he has vaguely distinguished a human figure inclined over him and heard her voice - a tender voice of the girl.

“Sleep, it’s still too early for you to move. Wounds haven’t yet healed. Sleep”. He didn’t resist a dream.

Then from time to time he woke up to hear her voice again and tried to distinguish her face through a haze - and failed to do that for many times. But that memorial day came once, when he has roused without assistance - and both his sight and hearing have cleared up.

“I have found you at last”, - suddenly almost-forgotten words came up to his mind.

Yes, it was a girl, still very young, probably seventeen - eighteen years old. Only an adult hardness could easily be read in her eyes already.

 And then he dared to ask.

- Where am I?

- You are in our monastery, - the girl answered. - In my monastery, - she added and sobbed.

- You … you have helped me … Why?

- You are not from those who have attacked us. I have understood that immediately. Our … my … brothers … have mislead attackers into woods … to find their death there … survived barbarians returned here … and plundered the monastery. All those whom my brothers have overcome in battle remained in the woods - and you have approached the front of monastery walls instead. If you were among the attackers - you wouldn’t even risk doing that. You are not from the ones who have killed my brothers, - she said solidly.

- Y..y..e..s … t..ha..ths … so …, - he uttered quietly with still disobeying tongue.

- Then why have you come here? - and she moved very close to him, studying his face with her demanding sight.

- I wanted … desired to stop them … and … couldn’t … forgive … forgive me, if you … still can.

- You wanted to aid us? - her eyes opened widely in surprise, - why is that so? You are a one of their kind … you have stood against them?

- I … couldn’t …. allow … slaughter …., - words came out very slowly and hardly from his throat.

- But it had taken place nevertheless … However, what difference does it make for now! Take a rest, sleep - and tell me the rest afterwards.

She was right, he required a rest now - lots of resting - and thus he plunged into that attractable dream once more.

* * *

He woke up and felt her warm hand lying on a forehead.