The road led by curiosity is often matched by oppression. It is instilled with fear and stillness, with wonder and stagnation. Nevertheless, chaos cannot be avoided. And nevertheless, chaos cannot be truly extinguished. Utterly mistaken is the one who thinks peace is dormant, waiting for those who want to take it, when in fact, it is only for a selected few. Lucky ones, that stand on top of another.
Peace is attained when the prospect of war seems hopeless. And the hopelessness is a carrier of a war in and out of itself.
To break free, one must seek that which brings marvel out of their mind. But to break free, it is to sacrifice valuable things. It is to set them on fire and watch. Is anybody ready for such sacrifices? Would these people be ready to face what was to come? Were the treacherous outcomes avoidable? Probably not. But chaos was inevitable. Unavoidable.
Although chaos can be manufactured, and it can be slightly operated. Manipulated.
Zofia was running through the woods alone with nothing to fend herself but a rusty kitchen knife. It was all she could pick up in an abandoned cabin along the way, 2 miles south from where she was, and now 3 miles south from the walls. It was dusk. Night was falling down little by little, and the only buildings were the shattered ones. The remains of the past civilization. Balsamico, the smart guard that oversaw running intelligence on all newcomers and patients under FIASCO (Facility of intelligence, assessment, safety, and comprehension of the obsolete), had laid all the plans in case someone escaped. Nothing was getting past him so far.
Bolliard the gentle guard, that had let her escape, was being held in interrogation now by other officers while the higherups decided what to do with him.
There were some exceptions in this facility that was in the outskirts of the city ruled by the capital, but for the majority, the guards were more perverse than the inmates…
Most of them reunited to do vile things, and some of them to do some evil as well on some other ones, even showing cases of cannibalism at times as some reports said. Turns out the first officials were corrupted enough and decided to let some of the first inmates become officers and rule in the facility, thus making it the place where all human carnage could be exploited. And now Balsamico was after her, to bring her back to his hellhole. The dogs were salivating. The bows were tight and ready to fire. The sunlight was becoming a longing memory. A thunderstorm could be heard from afar, closing in on Zofia.
As luck would have it, the sound of water such as a waterfall could be heard nearby. Thus, Zofia made the decision to hurry to it. It was dark. She could barely see anything, only the leaves once she closed in on them, and the faint light that could cut through the trees along the way. There wasn’t the slightest idea that she would make it out of here, alive, but then, there also was. Perhaps it was hope. And hope was what kept her going. In spite of bruised knee and spite the exhaustion that had built up past the limit.
I was moving through the forest now. It impressed me how big it actually was. All this land. All this terrain. It was just all too much to take in., specially ‘cause I was being pursued. But to think the books said different…it didn’t break my heart exactly, more like I was being robbed of my freedom for so long, for no reason, for no goddamn valid reason at all.
I got the feeling I was getting lost but also lost in the nature all around me as well. It felt like it wanted to talk to me. I think. I don’t know if it was the anxiety, but it almost felt like too much what I was imagining, and so I let myself be guided by it if that makes sense. I let my hands touch the leaves along the way, my skin feel the air, my mind contemplate. The branches of plants to my right and my left. The leaves were there for the view, not for the taking. Like a thoughtless child I felt, walking through a garden, yanking leaves along the way, except I was only touching them, feeling their softness through my fingertips, their rigidness, the moisture carried by the wind. I entered a trance, I think. I felt in pursue of more leaves to touch. I’d never felt this way before, and yet time was a precious thing. I didn’t have any to waste.
I thought I heard the sound of water close. I closed my eyes to focus on it. I was parched. I could almost taste it. I guess I was only drinking my memory of it. The taste of water. It almost satisfied me until the moment you realize there is no actual water in your mouth. I followed the sounds, and I arrived at what seemed to be paradise. There was what seemed like a lake, but water was coming from above it, crushing into the surface of it. It was mental. I was in awe of it. It was almost too beautiful for me to look at. But I dared to see it. Perhaps it was my last time looking at it or looking at all for that matter. Punishment for my escape would surely be a difficult thing.
Upong arriving at the water source, she took a look around after being startled by it. She was being careful. She noticed what looked like a bird, perhaps it was an owl or a crow, it was pitch black, nonetheless. Nothing seemed to scream bloody murder, and so she reached out with her hands, bringing them together and making them a recipient to hold water and thus drink it. It tasted bitter, and yet sweet. It was the aftertaste that made her feel curious. She stood up. Started walking around the water source only to find in fact that there was a waterfall. But how? All the maps failed to show any source of life beyond the facility. If such possibilities were being attained here, life could extend way beyond the walls and the crowds. It needn’t be so crowded in the facility, or the capital for that matter. She noticed a depth behind the water crushing down into the lake. Could it be? There was a crack. It was sort of like a cave. She thought she heard the sound of a galloping horse and men talking. But how could she? She’d never seen what a horse would look or sound like. Nevertheless, she went right into the cave past the water. Drenched herself and her clothes.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The surprises didn’t stop. My mind didn’t betray me when I noticed something behind the water falling down. If it was a cave, I might have struck out in luck. Perhaps I would survive the night. This night alone of course, but full of terrors, nonetheless. Yes, it was. I was more scared of what was outside here looking for me, than whatever could be inside of that cave. And as I went in my clothes got drenched of course. Uncomfortably so. I might get sick now. Fever is building up already. Damn. This is definitely the worst. (I said letting go of some of my will; my misery betraying my strength)
Night has fallen down, and so have I.
I could only hear the steps of men and their boots; stinking men and stinking clothes, making a mess of the paradise I had witness, no doubt. Soil becoming mud, and plants being stepped on. And suddenly, a man drowning…and drowning…what a horrible sound.
There was no doubt now that she would get a fever and fall sick should she waver or stop. A few minutes after she went into the cave, darkness was all around in and outside of it. It was pitch black, bible black. Coal and nothingness came to mind when you tried to look around. Only the sounds could be heard now, and the heat of your own body could be felt.
Suddenly, she remembered what her mother had told her once about anxiety. A trick to trick your own body and be in control of it. Breathing in intervals. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, surely. And so, she started breathing to calm herself down, and to listen carefully to what was going around her. The men pursuing couldn’t see anything either and started frustrating themselves over it. One of them fell down into the water and didn’t know how to swim. The clear sounds of a person drowning were the sole focus of attention to everybody except one of the pursuers. He delighted himself in it. Everybody tried to reach out and grabbed the arm of the drowning man but couldn’t get to him. And the leader of this unit was not even trying; the sounds gave his mind clarity. This one had gotten awfully close to Zofia twice before in the facility, uncomfortably so, annoyingly so, but got stopped by Bolliard who often made excuses to stay beside her. And so, all men in pursuit tried to reach the drowning person in front of them, but sounds were not enough, and their eyes were not good here. This was a transaction of the ears, and the ears alone. The gaggling and the faint screams in and out of the water of the man drowning scared Zofia even more. Her body felt cold from the inside out. Her wounds started burning. She could now feel all exhaustion built up in her body, and imagination started taking control of her, making her think she was being found by her pursuers. She wanted to scream as loud as she could but resisted the idea repeatedly. It was only a matter of time before they found her, or she couldn’t hold on any longer and let out a wail…
But then, a ray of moonlight cut through the darkness an revealed the men in the lake, the psychopath and what seemed like words written on the walls of the cave, symbols and something dangling from them. It was war knots.
After the war, a communication system was developed to ensure that the people that ended up, deaf, blind, mute or otherwise incapable of reading, talking, listening or speaking the traditional way, could communicate. The idea ended up being discarded after it was decided that it could potentially signify the demise of freedom due to dubious attempts to stage a ‘coup. It was later on decided to be only used by directives as secret message codes called war knots, where clear directives were sent to people in power about decisions made in the country, who to kill, who to investigate, what strategies were in play by the Empire, so on. And so, a whole language through knots was developed to be of use only to the emperor and their military. A selected few were chosen to be taught this language and to translate, communicate, tie and read it. The language itself became so complex that special translators were needed. And so, Zofia was one of them. They were mostly kept in a complex underground, where they would encrypt and decrypt messages all day long for higher ups, for people in power, from the emperor. There were still some renegades and global powers trying to rise beyond the clutch of the empire, and so every now and then they tried to capture the translators, making it a high-risk job. Thus, the empire opted out to keep them for the most part underground and to train two at a time every time one was killed. Aside from that, due to the emperor’s high anxiety and paranoia, he instituted the rule that no translator could live past 2 years after training. Of course, the translators didn’t know this rule. The last known legal and public record was of 40 translators 4 years AJR (After just rule), when the program had just started, 15 translators 5 years AJR, and 8 translators 6 years AJR. It was then when it was annulled as a strategy to help the wounded. Nobody knew if presently there were any translators left, as they remained an exclusivity to the emperor, and a lost profession and cause to the public. And so, the amount of secrecy and preparation given to these people was immense. Zofia and Clara, her sister, knew perfectly what any knot would say. And this time Zofia was the only one that could read them in that cave, so she did…
“Could it be? What is this? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.” Thought Zofia. She mumbled the words as she read: ”spe..ak the..se word..s..and..light..will..push..you..thr..ough…”. She took a moment to read them all and get their intonations and pronunciation right as the knots described them: “creo, credo creptio creta, cras crastinus cribo, votum vis vivo vixi victum vultus, vita” Afterwards a light shone brightly in the cave, alerting the crew outside. Everything was visible now and the light attracted the men to it. They rushed to it, readily so, desperately so. In a moment’s notice the wall spoke. Or rather, perhaps, it was the light coming out of it.
“Og ot tnaw uoy erehw yas. Kaeps” said the wall or the light. She could not understand it right away. It was gibberish. But then, in her mind, the meaning became clear: “Speak. Say where you want to go”.
She remembered the reason she fled. The reason that kept her going and had put her in this situation. There was purpose. There was intent. Purpose, yes. And the reason lied with the secrets she held chest tight. The structure of the parliament, all current great political powers still in play, and the strategy to eradicate every single one of them. An imminent danger that questioned the emperor’s power, which was also a great fear of his. And the information and archives about six people, starting with…
“Maverick”, she said out loud to the wall.
The men entered the cave.
The light went brighter like an explosion and Zofia was no longer there. The dogs stopped barking, and the horse stopped whining. Yes, there was one horse. The men were dead silent and utterly confused. It was dark again and only questions remained. The psychopath that was obsessed with Zofia was scared, much so that he told his men to make camp and light a fire.
Some men lost their sight and could only remember the shinning of the cave itself. They were astonished by it. Mesmerized and scared. The psychopath confused remained silent all night. The dogs stopped barking, and the horse stopped whining. Yes. Silence was a way to honor such happening.
