Tales and Fables
INSPIRED BY MY OWN WORKS AND OTHERS...
He chose to live there, a long time ago, in search for silence and peace. He gasped, and laughed to himself. What a paradox to have found peace and quiet in a place of cruelty and brutality.
He grabbed some water from the barrel where rainwater was collected, along with some herbs and vegetables he grew in a patch of soil behind the altar of the chapel, sit on the stone floor and boiled it over the fire. The smoke rose and curled and carried the scent of of wood and ash. A breeze blew the smoke into the arena, blanketing some of the chapel's remnant walls. His eyes followed the smoke and looked to the moon shining strong and quiet in the sky. The night was silent, except for the occasional crackle and pop of the fire. Gradually, the smoke opened through the walls, doors and openings and the old hermit smiled at the sky filled with stars, glowing like lanterns on a dark canvas. "It's going to be a good night", he whispered and smiled again. Soft and low, they started, like whispers in his ear. At first he didn't understand what they were saying, then got louder and clearer until the chapel was filled with words. He kept looking at the stars above. Then the voices stopped one by one. She hid behind a broken pillar. She looked up to the stars flickering like torches on a dark arena and shivered. After a few moments he invited her to join him by the fire "Come my child." he said with a smile. She slowly walked towards the fire, her eyes never leaving the old man. She was young, dressed in a simple tunic, her face, as pale as the moon, was gentle and sad. She sat on a broken bench in front of the old hermit with the fire burning brightly between them. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackling and the wind outside howling. "Where are you going?" he asked. "I don't know." she answered, her voice faint and eerie. "How long have you been wandering, child?" "I've lost track of the days and the seasons. I was passing through and noticed the fire", she said and watched the sky. Her eyes were drawn to the black sky above her. The stars sparkling in the infinite distance. She felt a surge of wonder and imagined what they knew. Did they know what she was looking for? "Searching for something?" the hermit asked as if he knew what was on her mind. "I've been seeking something but I'm not sure what it is" She felt a fresh breeze brush her face, then leaned forward and stretched her arms closer to the fire. "But I felt a pull, a calling. As if I had to come here, to this place." she looked at the old hermit as if expecting an answer, but the old man just smiled. She felt a warmth and a peace in his eyes and smile, it seemed as he was no longer a stranger in the middle of the night, and smiled back. "Perhaps you'll find what you're looking for", he said. "What do you remember?". She smiled to him but he noticed the sadness in her eyes. She looked around, noticing the many arches around her as if they treathened to engulf her. "I remember this place. It's different." For a brief moment she looked scared and in disgust. "I remember the screams, the chants of hundreds of unknown faces." He listened. They started as whispers, seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, filling the air and gradually increasing in volume and intensity. And then, just as quick as they started, the voices and sounds stopped. He looked at her and saw her holding her head with both hands and eyes closed shut. She then lowered her hands to her lap and opened her eyes. "I remember now", she whispered. She told him that she was taken away from her home, along with many others. That she was a slave, a prisoner of war. "I do not know which war it wasor how it started." she said. Locked in the colosseum's dungeons below. "Have you seen the arena?" he asked. "Yes." "Tell me what you saw." asked the hermit. She sighed and for a moment said nothing. She saw the sand covered arena stretching out before her. "I saw the blood in the sands." she finally said. "Men and women, fighting each other, fighting for their lives, for their freedom." The hermit listened patiently as she described the scenes in vivid detail, her face expressing pain and confusion as she spoke. "Animals attacking humans. I saw them scream, I saw them fall, never to rise again." The voices came back, increasing in volume and intensity as before, filling the ruined chapel and what was left of the colosseum. The young woman saw the crowds of expectators shouting n excitement and covered her ears and closed her eyes. And just like before, the voices went away. "I remember the voices, thousands of them. Cheering and screaming and chanting, for blood and death. They watched and admired, they cheered and booed, they clapped and hissed." she said, wiping away her teary eyes. "I was thrown into the arena, unarmed and defenseless." her heart began to race. She stared at the man in front of her, without really seeing him, her eyes in fear as she was facing her opponent in the sands. She closed her eyes for brief moments and then opened them. In front of her stood only the old man. "You are safe now", the old man said. "You came here to know what happened and to move on on your journey." "To where?" she asked. "I don't know where to go and I don't want to go back." "Your journey will take you to where you need to go, my child" She looked at him skeptically. "How do I know where I need to go?" The old hermit rose from the cold stone floor where he was sit, took her hand and said "Trust in you and in the signs the universe will show you and you will know." She smiled at him. "You are not alone in this journey of yours." She felt a sense of comfort and a sense of relief and joy. She felt finally free of all the suffering that had held her back for so long. "I have to go now." she said. "I have found what I was looking for." As she spoke her final words, the hermit felt a sense of gratitude from her. The old man smiled gently. She smiled back at him, her eyes full of warmth. As he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, she faded away, disappearing into the night, as if she had never been there at all. He was alone in the quiet chapel, bathed in the orange glow from the flickering flames of the fire. The old hermit stood there for a moment. He sat back and stared back into the fire and smiled. The fire continued to burn brightly in the center of the chapel's nave, no longer a desolate ruin. The fire danced, casting long shadows across the chapel and the ruined arches of the colosseum. The night felt less dark and cold, the stars seemed to shine brighter. In his mind a faint voice whispered "Aurelia". Comments are closed.
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