The Last Case

the land, faraway in the west II

I've seen this scene many times. This very scene.

The sudden shine on the right side of his face informed me, the sun had finally risen above the hills. He sat on his knees beside my weak body, quietly looking in my eyes with that painful expression, while holding the blade I held when I charged at him. My body asked me not to struggle. I knew I would not stand again; the physical body, too, had now faced its share.

The blade had its shine on the exposed side.

'You are a kind man, my friend. You at least chose to understand the other side. But, I'm afraid, I should end this. For I won't get enough time.'

'If it has come to this, it is my word, I shall make it quick for you.'

I have seen this scene many times . . . through the visions, which occasionally struck my memories. Visions I got while I was banging my shield with hammers and axes when our ships departed from the homeland, back when I was with my people. Visions I got when I raided the monasteries, in the belief that the foe had worshipped the false, fake deity for long. Visions I got when raiding their towns like hungry beasts, and taking the people as slaves. When I fought in the shield defence and killed and sacrificed lives and spilt their blood in the name of all mighty Father.

I've seen this moment, many times. And asked fate, why every time does this man look at me with such a face; with emotions his eyes were holding from bursting apart like the water containers my ships carried when his mighty lightning and thunder guided us through the waters. Or so I thought. Then I would ask him that one thing, and he would speak . . . and he would make my mind at ease, take my lost boat to the shores before the war-maidans show up with their horses in the then-bright skies, to take me to the grand halls to dine with his majesty. And It was always the same.

"Why . . . are you quiet?"

He was contained, "Should I not respect your moment, the silence is rightfully yours. For it is meant to be your moment."

I spoke again, after a brief silence, "William Von. You must be thinking of me as some other once-soldier, maybe a warrior, who went rogue, berserk after a little torture for his life's sin. Others will think that too,"-It was hard to breathe-"What a flashy way to go."

"If you speak of the truth, about your past," he said. "Then I envy you," his words came and time seemed to be frozen for me, for a moment. "I envy your gods, for your loyalty and dedication toward what you believe, your faith. People would indeed see only the blood, but anyone on the broader scale of understanding would envy."

He read my puzzled face. "Faith, you see, is a very-should I say-a complicated concept. It is mentioned in many faiths, that those who are not like us, with our beliefs, are poor who couldn't see the truth of the world, thus should not seise to exist in their current state."

"There were also times when others would start the conflicts, call out the wars. Of course, in the name of gods. And we would have no choice of standing back," I said. "The gods favoured them in raids, wars, and victories."

"Evil has always been inflicted only from one human or species, to another," he replied. "Call it fate, a moment of luck, or the circumstantial evidence. But there was no time when miracles came through the heavens and helped certain someone. Always . . . just two human or beings, with their conflicted ideas followed by groups. Conflicts are inevitable when ideas differ. As for what is written, fantasies are written too."

I smiled at his thoughtfulness, while feeling my strength flowing out of my body, and also partially realising how true his words might be, if I was able to see it neutrally. From a blank slate of mind and no judgements.

"When two sides fight for themselves," he continued. "There is a possibility that a stream of wisdom might emerge in them, or either of them, and they would stop, resolving things with negotiations." He went quiet for a brief moment before continuing, "But when it is done in the name of the gods, for the faith you so-believe in, there is no evil, no bad-acts. There are no exceptions or compromises. Everything gains a noble value, a purpose, and it is said, the word of god is never to be questioned. Did I get the last part right?" he had the knowing look.

I breathed out, "And- and what should be done?"

"I don't see myself as intelligent to answer that. But I believe, one must realise, on a personal level, that faith can never be a public agenda, but a personal concern, the pursuit of self. That is the human nature if one understands it.

"It is also important to accept, there are things unexplained in this vast world because one does not have enough knowledge about it, not necessarily because it is wrong from the core. Only when one realises this, does the longing to seek knowledge arise and the possibility of understanding the perspective at some point becomes a new pursuit. For, assuming things that one does not know is like a poison to the intellect."

The sun had well risen and I could finally feel the warmth of the final rays I would witness. It was a feeling of calm with the breeze when the small blades of grass waved, caressing my tired body. The aura and energies of this young man in front of me were changed as he spoke knowledge into me.

"My friend, it is always fine to respect and look toward faith and what one worships. It is the only thing which stays when everything is gone. One should only know to what extent does one wish to go with these beliefs. To follow the honoured ones, and accept the path of their faith and laws is mortality. Mortality, which often binds one. To question with open minds and understand the roots is wisdom. Wisdom sets you free.

"As for me, you were a great, and presumably a warrior of his values and faith, who wished to get redeemed for what has happened in the past. You were a person loyal to his faith . . . but also bound by its chains."

Then I could no longer feel the waving of grass or the warmth of rays. The dripping blood was stopped at last, as there was no left. He moved his hand and placed the blade in my hands. "I believe you must hold this at this moment."

I pushed the blade away, "Even if I'm not holding it, I am still in the battle. Fighting my faith and the countless souls I took out. Fighting the binding chains to see the light and feel the warmth of the world; of life. Thank you for making me feel alive today. And I shall leave the place in the battle. For that is how it is supposed to be."

Yes, indeed, I have seen this scene many times. This very moment. Then, his expressions changed and so did his energies. Something, for a moment, felt different, but I had no reason to bother, of whom exactly have I had this conversation with.