Eternal Part 2: Love

If you haven't yet, read part 1 right here.

And below is part 2 of my short story. As usual, leave thoughts and feedback!

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Love

            The soldier sat, staring blankly at the grey sky above. Clouds, distinguishable as only a slightly different shade against the sky, slowly drifted by. Behind him stood the only changing thing in this world between worlds, a figure draped from head to toe in a hooded black cloak. This figure had been his only companion amidst they grey of death, though the soldier wished otherwise.

            “Have you a name, soldier?” the figure asked.

            “Calish,” the soldier answered.

            “Well, Calish, I’m glad you’re here,” said the figure sincerely. Calish rounded on the figure, his face creased in anger.

            “Why?” he shouted, “So you can finally have some company in this eternity of hell? Why me of all people? Please, just let me move on.”

            “I cannot,” the figure responded simply.

            Calish turned again, once more facing away from the figure, “Then leave me to my solitude. I’d rather have that as my companion.”

            The figure stood in silence, contemplating, before finally fading away, leaving Calish alone once again. He appeared only a handful more times, yet no more words were spoken between the two of them. An impenetrable layer of silence had fallen between them, and neither had the will to break it.

            The visits from the figure became fewer and fewer until, eventually, Calish assumed he’d stopped coming all together. Now, more than ever before, Calish was accompanied only by solitude and his memories of war, love, life, and death.

It was an eternity until the figure appeared once more. The amount of time between visits was immeasurable in this cold, desolate world. The soldier, Calish, had not moved since the last visit, sitting on the shadowed soil of the valley he had once fought in, so long ago. He had only his own thoughts to keep him company, thus he had become lost in them.

            The hooded figure stood watching, staring at him from within the shadows of his ebony cloak. Like the times before, neither of them made any sound. The figure watched, seemingly in deep contemplation of Calish’s existence in this world. Calish, on the other hand, appeared to not even notice the presence of his observer.

            The figure watched for sometime as Calish kept the company of the only thing he had; his memories. They flowed through his head as he relived the ups and downs of his life, right until the very end. The joys of time spent with the woman he loved, and his daughter, the life they had created together. Then, finally, when the arrow had ended his life much too early. He absentmindedly pressed his hand against the hole in his chest, the mark of his death.

            Once more, as with all his visits before, the figure turned to leave. This time, however, he hesitated and turned once more to face the soldier.

            “Why do you remain?” he asked. The silence, an ever-present companion to the two of them, had been shattered.

            Calish looked up blinking in surprise as he emerged from his silent reveries. He glanced at the hooded figure, finally noticing he was no longer alone. For all the good the figure would bring him though, he may as well have been.

            “You need to ask?” Calish asked, bitterness lacing his words. “You won’t allow me to move on. Because of you, I cannot leave this shadow world.”

            “No, you misunderstand. Of course you can’t move on, but there’s no need for you to remain here, in this valley,” explained the figure.

            “Tell me then, what else is there? The dead effigies of villages? The hollow empty shells of cities? No thank you. If I’m to be stuck here, this valley is as good as anywhere else,” Calish turned to face away from the figure, hoping he’d leave as he always did. Instead, he spoke once more. It was a simple sentence, but one that changed everything.

            “You could see your family,” the figure spoke, his voice again strangely void of emotion. Calish turned back to face the figure.

            “They’re here?” he asked, unable to stop his voice from sounding hopeful. There was a shine in his eyes that had been absent since his death. It was only brief, however, as another thought entered his mind. “They’re dead also?”

            “Relax Calish, your family are still among the living,” the figure assured and the soldier slumped in relief.

            “So how can I see them?” he asked.

            “The deceased can still see those that they were closest to in life and, to an extent, the people and area around them. Be aware though that they cannot see you, nor interact with you in anyway. All you can do is watch,” explained the figure.

            “I won’t be able to talk to them?” asked Calish.

            “No, merely observe. I think you’ll find it is enough just to see that they are doing fine. After all, you must come to terms with the reality that you are no longer a part of their lives,” the figure answered. To Calish, he sounded regretful.

            “I would like to be able to see them,” Calish admitted. Repeatedly his thoughts had led to his family and how they were coping. Did they even know he was dead yet? How had they taken the news? He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed.    “Then, Calish, focus on them. Focus on the place where you lived with them. Picture it in your mind, imagine yourself being there and be there you shall,” the figure instructed.

            The figure watched as Calish closed his eyes. His face was creased in concentration. Inside his head he pictured the little cottage he called home with his wife and daughter. The wooden panelling, sloped roof, small round windows, and garden patch out front, all took shape in his mind’s eye.

            He focused on his wife. Beautiful Jenya, with her long brown hair and soft, brown eyes. He recalled the way she used to smile at him, and only at him. His daughter, Lyrial, took after him with her black hair and blue eyes. He pictured her running happily, playing outside their house.

            Finally, he pictured himself with them. He recalled what it was like to hold his wife and pictured himself standing with her, his arm wrapped around her waist. Their daughter played happily, stopping to look up at them with joy and love on her face.

            Then he opened his eyes, and he was there.

            It was exactly as he’d pictured, exactly as he’d remembered. He stood on the path leading up to their front door, looking at his house. His house: an island of colour and vibrancy in an otherwise grey world. The garden was no bigger than he remembered, the plants having barely grown at all since he’d last seen them. Could it really have been only a few months since he’d left to fight the war? Somehow it seemed so much longer.

            The figure approached to stand next to him. Seeming to sense Calish’s unvoiced question, he spoke, “Time flows differently for you and I. An eternity in our world may be only mere moments in this world, yet a second in our world could sometimes be the passing of decades in this one. Occasionally, the flow of time may even reverse. As you spend more time here, you’ll learn to ride the currents of time, and maybe even control them.”

            Calish heard his words, but didn’t really take note of them. He was home, and that was all he could focus on right now. He wanted to go and open the door. He wanted to hold his daughter and see her smiling face. He wanted to kiss his wife and feel her in his arms once again. As he touched the hole in his chest, however, he knew that he couldn’t. He’d never be able to again.

            Suddenly, a man walked through the spot Calish was occupying. He was momentarily disoriented, thinking that he should feel something. Yet, he felt nothing, and the man that had passed through him continued onwards, heading to the front door as though nothing had happened.

            He took note of the uniform the man was dressed in and immediately recognised it as that of the king’s army. Straight away realisation hit him. He knew that his family didn’t know he was dead yet, and he knew what this man was here for. Already he could picture the expressions of grief and pain on their faces.

            “I can’t do this. I don’t want to see this. Please, tell me how to move forward in time” Calish said, turning to the hooded figure. He was surprised to find the figure gone. He wasn’t given time to wonder why. The king’s man knocking on his front door drew his attention back to the world of the living.

            “Daddy!” a happy cry came from inside his house. His heart felt heavy as he recognised his daughter’s voice. The door opened slightly and Lyrial poked her head through the gap. Looking up at the man she asked, “Are you a friend of daddy’s?” The man just gave her a sympathetic smile in return.

            The door was then opened completely and in the entrance stood his wife. His chest felt tight as he looked at her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Jenya looked at the man standing in the door. Calish watched as she took in the man’s uniform. He could tell from the expression on her face that she was already expecting the worst.

            “Lyrial, honey, go back inside,” she said, urging her daughter back into the cottage.

            “But mummy, I want to hear about daddy too!” Lyrial said, defiant.

            “Please Lyrial. Go play in your room. I’ll be in there soon,” she said, pushing her inside. Giving up, Lyrial ran inside.

            “Jenya,” the man started, “it’s about your husband…” Calish listened as the king’s man relayed the news. At first, Jenya seemed strong, taking it in and not letting the pain show. The more the man said, however, the more Calish could see the sorrow taking hold of her. Eventually, she couldn’t take anymore.

            “Please,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse, “I’ve heard enough. Thank you for coming.” The king’s man bowed his head respectfully, apologising for her loss.

            As he walked away, Jenya leaned against their front door. She wrapped her arms across her chest as the first tears started to fall. She started to shake, sobs racking her body and she allowed herself to slide down to the floor. She pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her head between them, giving way to grief.

            “Mummy? Mummy, what’s wrong?” Lyrial asked, walking up to her mother. In her grief, however, Jenya was unable to answer. “Mummy? Please stop crying. Is it Daddy? Is Daddy okay?” Her daughter’s questions only made her cry harder.

            The scene became too much for Calish as his legs gave way and he too collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

            “I’m so sorry,” he cried, burying his head in his hands “I’m sorry for doing this to you all. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry…”

            From a distance away, the hooded figure watched the familiar scene of grief unfold. His face, hidden beneath the hood, revealed nothing of his feelings.

            When next Calish opened his eyes, his grief all spent, days seemed to have passed. His wife was outside, digging a spot in the garden for a green, flowerless plant while Lyrial looked on.

            “What is that?” his daughter asked, gesturing towards the plant.

            “It’s a plant for your father,” Jenya answered, putting down the trowel and wiping perspiration from her forehead.

            “A gift for when he comes home?” Lyrial asked, hopeful. Jenya stood up and pulled her daughter into a tight hug.

            “No honey. Remember, he won’t be coming home again now. He’s on his way to a better place, and this plant will let us know when he’s there and safe again,” she said. She let go of her daughter and returned to the garden, carefully placing the plant into the hole she’d dug.

            “It’s called a Soul Flower,” Jenya continued, “And it only flowers when the person it was planted for has gone to the next world. So, when this one flowers, it means your dad is safe and happy in that world.”

            “Can we go visit him there?” Lyrial asked innocently.

            “Not for a long, long time,” she answered, while carefully placing soil back around the plant’s roots “But one day, all three of us will be together again there. Until that day though, your father would want you to live a full, happy life here. Nothing would make him gladder.”

            “Okay,” Lyrial nodded. Jenya stood up and kissed her daughter on the top of her head, leading her back inside.

            “We’ll water this plant each day. Doing that will help your father get to where he’s going,” Jenya said on the way inside.

            “Thank you, my love, my daughter,” Calish said to both of them, knowing they wouldn’t hear. He looked at the grey world around his house, “I’ll need all the help I can get.”

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And now, you can read part 3 here.