Dark Age

by Felix O. Hartmann

  Do not touch the hand grenades, for when you pull the metal pin, an explosion will take you straight to hell. If you choose to use them, be weary, keep distance and cover your ears.

  I wish you the best,

  Winston Smith, 2095

  I inspected the objects closely. Remembering the unspoken promise, my hand reached into my pocket and pulled out the picture of his wife and daughter. Lifting his fingers I plugged it right back to where I had first found it. Once again he rested against the wall looking into the faces of his loved ones.

  “Thank you Winston,” I said, “for everything.”

  I attached the two ‘hand grenades’ to my belt and strode towards the gate. Carefully I put my hand on the knob that would open it to the Underground Empire. I twisted.

  Images flashed before my eyes. Katrina, the kiss, an eagle. I paused. Father, mother, Eric. I twisted the knob further. The square, my home, the Mount. I had turned it to the full extend. “Africa sounds wonderful, it really does. But what is it worth without the ones we love? Leaving would mean leaving our families and friends behind.” I stopped.

  I wanted to go, but I could not leave it all behind. I could not abandon them. My hand was glued to the knob as my inner spirits fought for a decision.

  I let go.

  I dragged myself towards the hall. Resolute I took the hand grenades from my belt, pulled the pins and threw them against the wall of stones. With covered ears I ran back inside the room.

  An explosion more powerful than the loudest thunder broke out and echoed through the endless halls. Pieces of rock flew all across the tunnel like arrows. Cowered into a ball I felt how dust and small stones began to fall from the ceiling. When it was quiet I approached the corridor.

  It was clear.

  I ran into freedom, as fast as my wounds allowed. I would return to Katrina and my family after all. The entrance of the mine was close. Liberty was near.

  “I knew I could not trust that fool Stephan,” said Yorick entering the mine with a large sword clenched in his palm. “Why don’t you just mind your own business Blacksmith? Life could be so easy if you would just follow and listen for once, instead of always swimming against the stream.”

  “I don’t want to fight you Yorick,” I said. “Too many men have died already.”

  “And we both know I will not be the man to die in this fight,” he responded with a grin.

  “Why do you go to all these lengths to kill me?”

  “Because you are a threat,” he bristled with anger. “Why do you think I stayed in the Guard past service? I was a poor industrial born with no future. If I had returned, I would have looked forward to being my older brother’s second assistant. I would not just have been unsuccessful, but with nothing to inherit no pretty girl in this world would have married me.” He stepped closer to me, “But here I had opportunity. I could become the most powerful man next to the Inquisitor. So I stayed. And after fighting and surviving for years, when I was so close to being on top, you were about to end the Guard by making peace with these things. With no enemy there is no Guard, Adam! You were so close to ripping apart all I had built… because of you and your ideals. But at last you helped me remove the final obstacle: Terric.” He turned the blade in his hands, “I can’t risk having you around anymore. And given all that you know, the Inquisitor will be delighted that I took care of you.” With a leap he aimed for me.

  I drew my sword and blocked his blow. All I could do was defend myself. Once or twice I had the chance to strike out at him, but only hit his blade. I was too weak already, while his speed outmatched mine in any state of health.

  With a full body turn he slammed his blade against mine, forcing me to lose grip. He laughed like I was a joke to him… ready to rejoice in my demise.

  He extended his arm behind his shoulder. His glistening eyes stared down at me, fueled by my fear. With no more patience, my executioner let his blade race down upon me. There was no time to dodge. Like a scythe cuts corn, his blade went right through my left leg, severing it below the knee.

  A pain indescribable to most men shot through my body. I wanted to vomit, or even die rather than experiencing this torment. I cried out, seeing my body fall apart. I screamed at him, but that was all I could do. Losing my leg was only the beginning. He stepped closer to my bleeding body, ready to give me the final blow.

  The sun began to rise at the end of the tunnel. I finally saw the light. When I was ready to embrace it, a silhouette stepped in between it and me.

  A loud shot resounded through the hall. Drained of life, my tormentor fell to the ground.

  III

  The Inquisitor

  Darkness reveals truths that no sun can bring to light,

  For inside the heart of man resides a beast,

  Only tamed by the shackles of the day.

  Chapter 30

  “He moved his fingers,” a faint voice said. My senses were numb as if I were drowning. First I regained my hearing, and was overwhelmed by the countless voices around me. Everything went from repressed to deafening, as whispers turned into hysterical yelling.

  Slowly visuals returned. Everything was blurry and fast. I could not make out faces, nor could I tell where I was. A tingling feeling rushed all over my body from the toes of my right foot up to my face. The image of my cut off leg flashed before my eyes. I wanted to reach for it and see what happened, but could not move.

  As my sight and hearing became clearer, I recognized some of the faces around me. To my right sat Cecilia, older and more mature than I had remembered her, yet peaking in her beauty. At the foot of my bed stood Anthony, the Inquisitor’s chief servant whose hair showed the first signs of greying.

  I was in the Inquisitor’s mansion. To my left sat a doctor, inspecting my leg closely; my left leg. With a burning sensation I sat up, feeling the bandages rub over the wound Stephan had given me. Incredulously I touched the reattached part, only to find that I had lost most feeling in it.

  “The muscles have been severed below the knee,” the doctor explained methodically. “You will be able to move the leg as a whole with limited movement in your lower leg. I was able to reconnect some arteries and nerves, but chances are you won’t have any feeling in your foot. A cane will be necessary to walk.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” I said wholeheartedly. No feeling and a cane was a price I was willing to pay for being alive. In that moment, confusion struck me, “How did I get here? When will I have to return to the Guard?”

  Cecilia took my hand with her warm fingers, “You will not have to return. You have been honorably discharged from the Guard. Here is a letter from the Commander of the Guard addressed to you.”

  She handed me a letter with a red seal in its center, “Did Master Yorick send me this?”

  “Oh you did not know?” she said putting on a sad, compassionate tone. “Commander Yorick died in the ambush. You two must have been close.”

  “What ambush?”

  “Did you lose your memory too? You and the Commander were out in the mines when you were attacked by those monsters. You bravely fought them, but lost your leg in the process. Yorick unfortunately did not survive an arrow he took to the head. It supposedly went right through his brains. Commander Terric found you bleeding out in the mines, and brought you to the city immediately, signing your release.”

  “Terric is alive?” I asked in disbelieve.

  “Why, yes of course! He is fit and as handsome as always. He wanted to see you, but had to return to the outside to take command. Hence he left you the letter.”

  I broke the seal and opened it.

  Dear Adam,

  Much has happened since we departed in the prison cell. You must have many questions, and we shall address them when the time comes. For now find the answers you seek in the information I lay before you.

  When I was taken from the prison cell, Yorick’s men took me to the woods with the intention to execute me. I managed to outwit them, and escaped. The f
ollowing years I lived with some of the villagers that accepted me into their rows as an outcast. Every now and then I met with trusted men that served at the border area to relay new information on Yorick’s moves, and how you were. When I heard the explosion I knew you were in trouble. Only weapons of the Gate Watchers could create such destruction. At the mountain side I retrieved a gun, another weapon of the Gate Watchers I had long ago hidden in a box in a crevice between the mines. I stepped in just before Yorick could give you the death blow.

  I shot him, and retrieved your unconscious body. Every few years, a Commander has the power to grant an honorable discharge to a member of the Guard. I gave you this freedom, and asked for the best help immediately. I knew that the doctor in the settlement could not have helped you, and any more time wasted would have risked you losing your leg permanently. It was the least I could do for you. I wish you the best Adam. Enjoy the freedom you always sought, but remain true to yourself.

  Once you finish reading this letter, you must destroy it. The truth may never reach surface. For both our safety. I told the guards and the city herald that you were out with Stephan and Constantine to track down a pack of the monsters. After a heroic battle you were the only one to survive. After you and the others had been declared dead, Yorick took the job a few days later in his own hands. He ran into you, when a part of the cave exploded, releasing another pack of demons. Yorick died by a magical arrow that pierced his head, and you fought bravely but lost your leg in the process.

  I wish you a safe recovery. In the meantime, I will continue to strive for peace with the villagers, and ensure a return of stability in the Guard.

  Farewell,

  Master Terric

  All the information soaked into my brain. I re-read the letter to see if I had missed anything. Suddenly something caught my eye, “I was declared dead?”

  Cecilia looked uncomfortable, “Yes, about three days ago.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “You came in last night. It’s afternoon now.”

  “But they did not have my body, how could they declare me dead? And under what reasoning?”

  “Adam I was shocked when I heard the news too. I locked myself in my room and would not leave it, because I was crying all day long. They said you had died in a mine explosion, similar to the one your brother died in.”

  My mind raced to my family, “How did my parents take the shock?”

  “They did not take it well,” she said quietly, looking at Anthony with unease in her eyes.

  “Are they alright?” I asked. “When can I see them.”

  Anthony spoke up for the first time, “I am sorry to tell you, Adam, but an hour after you had been declared dead a neighbor wanting to give his condolences found them hanging in the workshop. They took their lives, thinking they had lost their last child.”

  I yanked back the blanket and tried to get up. “No! That’s impossible,” I screamed. They could not be dead. Not now that I had returned. I wanted to stand up but the doctor held me down. Violently I hit around myself, scratching Cecilia in the face by accident. Her cheek began to bleed and she let me go.

  “Hold him down Anthony,” ordered the doctor, pulling a syringe from his bag. Anthony put his forearms on my chest, pressing me down to the bed. The doctor jammed the needle into my leg and gave me the injection. My senses faded again, the way they first came just a few minutes before, and I returned to the darkness of my subconscious.

  My head buzzed. Slowly I pulled myself up right, seeing no one in the room but Cecilia, who wore a red line on her cheek where I had hit her. “I am sorry for that,” I said. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

  “It is okay,” she responded softly, “after all that you went through…”

  One of the side doors flew wide open, drawing my attention away from Cecilia. “Adam!” an all too familiar voice called.

  The girl I had so often dreamed about was a grown woman. Her auburn hair fell long and elegant down her right side, gently brushing her cheek and touching her chest. Her face had taken more definition as her jawline was finer and her cheeks were slightly blushed. She was beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I had ever seen. And even though she looked like a princess, she was still the same carpenter girl I fell in love with years ago.

  As I was consumed by Katrina’s entrance, Cecilia left the room unnoticed.

  With her soft palms she held my face, like a jewel she had long lost. Her eyes brightened up even more the second she noticed the eagle that still hung around my neck.

  “I promised you I would,” I began to say before she could comment on my return.

  She cut me off with a kiss. It was that kiss I had longed for these past years. So slow, so passionate, so long anticipated. A warm feeling spread through my chest and for the first time in years I felt true happiness. Certainly I had smiled from time to time, but now I knew that what I felt was real and lasting. The worry that some unexpected conflict could rip her from my arms vanished. She was mine, and I was hers.

  Katrina’s nose gently brushed against mine as her hazel eyes focused on me. I felt as if I could gaze into her soul, with every moment realizing that my journey had reached its end. At last I was holding her, and I knew I would not let her go.

  Standing up she reached for my hand, “Let’s go, Eric is preparing dinner for us. The doctor said that you are allowed to go home today.”

  With her help, I slowly pushed myself to the edge of the bed. She handed me a slim dark cane made of durable wood that would support my left leg from now on. I stood up feeling a burning pain shoot into my left knee the moment the foot reached the ground. Katrina held me at the waist while I took my first steps. When I managed to walk alone, she took my right hand and led me out of the room.

  Cecilia quickly walked off when the door opened. It seemed as if she had stayed at my side since the moment I was brought into the mansion.

  “Cecilia, wait,” I called after her.

  She promptly turned around and looked at me shortly. When her eyes dropped to the floor I could sense that the view of me and Katrina pained her. “Thank you,” I said gratefully.

  She curtsied and smiled almost like a servant, before vanishing behind a door.

  Anthony showed us the way out and left us at the door to the Merchant District, “It is good to have you back Adam,” he said. “The Inquisitor requested to hold a commendation ceremony in the square in three days, to congratulate you on your honorable discharge and hand you the brooch of excellence, for your service to the city.”

  Thanking him, we departed. The odor of fresh baked bread filled my nose the second we walked down the terracotta boulevard. My heart pounded faster with all the life that surrounded me. Merchant boys loaded wagons to bring more goods to their fathers on the square. A group of girls sat on the ground in a circle and sang a popular rhyme. All the while I held in my arms the girl of my dreams.

  “Greetings Mr. Blacksmith, glad to see you back in town,” an old merchant said. He bowed halfway, “I applaud and congratulate you on your stellar contributions to the Guard. Your early return has been quite the topic of conversation to say the least.”

  I looked at him puzzled. Something about his face looked familiar, but after eight years in the Guard I could not recall who he was.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” he said. “You used to sell me your small wooden sculptures. No one had ever been as skilled as you when it came to detail in woodwork.”

  I suddenly recalled where I had seen the face before, “You must be James’ father, isn’t that right?” I asked.

  “Yes, indeed, do you know him?”

  “He was one of my closest friends in the Guard. The last living one to be exact,” I said. “He is a brilliant young man. He knows how to stay alive and play by the rules.”

  The father lit up and smiled broadly. His eyes grew shiny, “Thank you Adam. It gives me strength to hear that my boy is well and safe.” The merchant packed his bag and was read
y to go back into the house, “I don’t want to hold you off any longer. I am sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “James will be home with you soon, I know it,” I said.

  We continued on our walk down to the gate of the Merchant District, listening to the tune the little girls sang with their infantile joyful voices.

  “The world it died,

  Divide by pride,

  Reborn beneath God’s hand.

  The valley he found,

  And we him crowned,

  To lead the promised land.

  Come ‘round, come ‘round,

  Be bound by the sound

  Come ‘round, come ‘round…”

  The clock tower above the Mount struck seven, absorbing the voices in its long resonating chimes.

  Katrina held my hand tight. It felt as if I had never left. Once inside the Craftsman District, more and more men and women recognized and greeted me. Time had changed us all; on the outside at least. Most had aged, but personalities seemed untouched. A strange feeling arose in me whenever I encountered new faces. For every person that recognized me, I found a handful of citizens I had never seen before. Some of those were young men and women that had been small children when I had left; others were older than me and had finished their service during my absence. From far I caught sight of Jacob, my former camp leader in the woods that had worked with Yorick to imprison me. He was lingering on the square in between the stalls. The moment he noticed me, his eyes were locked upon me, half surprised and half resentful. I only looked away for a second, but the next he was gone.

  The carpentry had not changed aside from a few added details. Captured by nostalgia, my hands wandered over the artsy walls Eric and me had redone years ago, while Katrina knocked on the door for her father to open up. Eric immediately threw open the door looking like the day I had left with his short grey hair. He glowed of happiness and welcomed us inside the house, holding me by the shoulder like a proud father.