Chapter 24: The Deeper Soul

The silent group of five sat around the brightly flickering fire. The night was near unto pitch black and the fire cast an almost unfriendly glow on the surrounding terrain and house. Justice and Zeal sat on either side of Yevish. Peace sat a little off to the left of Zeal and Strife sat across from her, both glaring at each other through the fires leaping rays. The events of the day had certainly not endeared them to each other anymore. Peace finally broke the silence, her mind still blatantly clear.

“What in heaven’s name was that?”

Strife raised his eyebrow, obviously not much caring that she disapproved. “It was efficient. We know what we need to now.”

“Was that really the best way to find our information?” Justice asked pointedly.

“Or necessary to go to such lengths?” Peace’s glare narrowed more.

Strife leaned back and laughed. “The best, perhaps not, certainly not the easiest. Opportunity presented itself.” He stopped and smirked to himself. “Lengths? What lengths? I hardly scratched the b….” Strife caught all four vehement glares, “woman. Just a little scare.”

“I suppose that depends on how we’re defining scratch.” Peace’s voice was low and clear.

Strife leaned forward, “What’s your problem with it anyway? She’s not one of your own, why should you care?”

Zeal and Justice were grinding their teeth, but they allowed Peace to speak for them all. “She may not be one of my own, but neither was she a pile of scraps, or a dirty rug. Regardless of her profession she is a human being. She deserves better treatment than that.”

Strife shook his head and looked up at the sky, then back at Peace, a caught chuckle coming from his partly closed jaw. “Human, perhaps… better than a pile of scraps… hnf…” Strife shook his head, his cocky smile starting to fade. “I treated her better than anyone else here would’ve. Not that you’d know that.”

“Not that I’d know what? How people work here? How they treat others?”

“You wanna’ claim you know us?” Strife’s straight lips started to curl into a snarl. “You’re just like all the others.”

“Others?” Peace’s voice rose in aggression, and then lowered to a growl. “Others?”

“Foreigners, Keesha.”

Peace drew a breath to hold back a snarl. The Keesha were foreigners who had been coming to Barakdethen for ages. Full of naïve beliefs and methods they were always trying to ‘fix’ the land and the people. They ended up making fools of themselves and injuring more than they fixed. “The Keesha’s were foolish. They knew nothing about us.” Peace snarled as she stood, preparing to turn and walk away.

“Us?” Strife stood as well, his shoulders tense. “Just because you visited before you think you’re one of us?”

Zeal and Justice both stood, anger rising in their hearts. They knew Peace had suffered far deeper at the hands of this land than either of them.

Zeal took a step forward, “You…” Peace motioned him back, and he stopped.

“Visited?” Peace took a step around the fire towards Strife, and he echoed her movements. “Visited! I suffered in this hell hole for 16 years. I lost my sister, I lost my parents, I lost my innocence, and every other scrap of quality to this land.”

“Then why did you leave? You who speaks of compassion and love. You who speaks of the saving ability of your Yeshua! Why did you leave the rest of us to suffer?” Frustration was becoming obvious in Strife’s tone.

Peace’s face suddenly dropped, her eyes leveled and the anger left her eyes. “I left because I had a chance. I left because I was tired of watching my brothers go through hell trying to keep me alive and safe. I left because they couldn’t keep it up.” Peace chocked back a tear. “I left because I was tired of being beaten, scapegoated, abused and used for every whim and purpose… again, and again…” Peace barely managed to keep herself together, her face a mix of anger, passion, and pain. She was quite surprised at herself for the suddenness of her words. She hadn’t hardly spoken of her past since she left this land, and she had certainly never burst out about it like that.

Strife seemed to calm as well. He realized he’s spoken without knowledge of the facts. He bowed his head a bit. He knew that most women of this land did not choose their paths. They were ashes on the wind, blown about by the whims of tired, lawless, and restless men. Zeal and Justice straightened and looked at Peace in surprise. They knew it was common but they had always thought they’d managed to protect her, keep her safer than most. Perhaps they had been naïve.

Strife raised his head a bit and looked at her, his voice barely a whisper, “How many men?”

Peace stroked her arm absently and looked off into the darkness that was the surrounding house. “What does it matter?”

Strife’s voice became a bit more forceful, but still full of a compassion Peace had not heard before. “How many times?”

A heave tear rolled down Peace’s cheek. “I tried to forget. I tried to…” She choked on the words. “I tried to give it up to God… and forget…” She paused and looked over at her brothers, her eyes wet. “Over fifty, that I remember… I was lucky.”

Zeal drew a sharp breath, how had they not known? How could they have missed that much?

Peace looked at him and Justice. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. You already had so much on your young heads. Just trying to keep me alive was hard enough, especially after Hope’s death…” Peace looked back at Strife as she trailed off, then she started again. “So don’t you go telling me what I do and don’t know.” Her voice lowered to a growl again. “Don’t you go telling me about this land. I know what it’s like. I know how these people are. And don’t you dare go treating them like dirt again just because it got you what you needed. And if you so ever dare to touch one of us like that…” She didn’t finish, but she knew she didn’t need to.

Strife, for the first time since they’d met him, looked down, almost in shame. “I understand.” He managed to state. After a moment he looked back up. Her gaze had softened enough to show that they had come to an understanding. Then suddenly Strife’s eyes changed. He cocked his head to the side, a bell of recognition suddenly ringing in the back of his mind. “All those times?”

Peace looked at him, a sudden recognition now coming over her face, as further clarity flooded her eyes. “Only five men.”

Strife paused, mulling over the sudden connections that were forming. “And of those five, one was dominant.”

A silence fell again. Memories flooding through both their minds.

Suddenly there was a snap in Peace’s mind. “YOU!” She screamed. Without hesitation Peace lunged at Strife fists beating in strategic rhythm with her feet. Justice and Zeal attempted to jump forward but a set of little hand wrapped around their legs and held them back. 

They looked down and spoke in unified desperation, “Yevish!”

The little boy just sat there grasping with all his might, it was the first definite move he had made since the battle. “No, this is her battle. She had to bring herself to forgive him. If you pull her off him now she won’t ever learn.”

Zeal and Justice looked at the quickly gathering cloud of dust surrounding their sister and her newly adopted boxing bag. Justice looked back down. “Learn what?”

“Learn how to forgive.” Yevish looked over at the fighting pair, his eyes full of something deeper than most would understand. He continued quietly. “To give it up to God. The deepest thing in her past. The ugliest wound on her soul.”

Justice looked back up. Peace had beaten Strife down into the dirt. He was covering his face with his arms, attempting to salvage at least that. He did not strike back however, he just let her beat him.

“You Bastard!” Peace stood and looked down at the cowering form. Then she turned towards the sky. “Oh why, God, why?” He voice was more of a desperate scream than anything else. She turned back to Strife. “You don’t even fight back now. Why?” Strife cringed at the harshness of her voice. “Are you afraid now? Because I can finally defend myself? Because I am no longer the skeleton of a girl that couldn’t hardly throw a punch heavy enough to leave a bruise? Stand up you coward! Get on your feet you worthless rag!” Peace leaned forward, her fist brought back and ready for another blow.

Yevish rocked back and forth, keeping his grip firm, shaking his head, muttering ‘no’ over and over. Justice and Zeal just watched in stunned horror.

Strife slowly stood, Peace leaning back to allow him to. His blooded face was full of regret. He just stood there. He didn’t strike at Peace, he didn’t fall at her feet and beg, he just stood there.

Peace waited, struggling, even with her fevered mind she read him. She couldn’t hold it back any longer and tears rained down, leaving streaks across her dust covered face. “Even now you prove yourself true. You leave yourself open, you know what I need to know. I should be able to forgive you even without that. I should have been able to forgive you even before you proved your honest regret, your true repentance. Even before I met you again I should’ve been able to…” Peace stomped down and turned out toward the night. “Oh Lord of heaven, what have I done?” She looked up to heaven and poured her heart out to God with unspoken words. After a moment of silence she spoke again. “Forgive me father.” She then turned to Strife and met his gaze. “And you…” She stopped, almost afraid to continue. “Will you… will you forgive me?” She met his eyes for a moment and then bowed her head.

Strife took one sturdy step over to her. He looked down at her. “Yes, to the ends of the earth yes. If that is what you truly need.” His own eyes filled then filled with tears as he dropped to his knees and placed one battered hand over his heart, his other clinging to Peace’s “But you… will you… can you… Can you forgive me?”

Peace didn’t speak for a moment. She looked back up at the heavens, then back down at Strife. She knelt and looked him face to face, taking both his hands in hers. “I can through God, and I do… Only through God though… His love, His forgiveness. Only by that can I do what I should have done so long ago.”

Strife embraced her then, grief and forgiveness, and a love from on high flooding over them. Strife whispered to himself “Oh how great your faith in one whom’s existence I can’t even bring myself to believe.”

Suddenly three sets of arms embraced the two, Yevish’s little ones drawing Peace and Strife to himself. He whispered to them both, “I knew you could. I knew you could find God within yourself, and forgive. I knew it.” Peace reached out and embraced the child as a pale morning sun began to dawn.

It was going to be a lot harder than she’d thought, but God knew what he was doing, and he was going to mend her, to mend them all. No matter what it took, by the time He was done, they would all be closer to God than Peace had ever imagined possible. Hearts where beginning to mend. Love was beginning to shed its light on a land that had dwelled in hate for far too long. 

Chapter 23: A Day We Feared

*This chapter contains a bit more language and graphic detail than the others. Please enjoy still.

After a few hours rest the little band rose and headed out again. Peace felt it hadn’t been long enough, but the others were ready and able. Here she was having traveled across half of Barakdethen mostly alone, then further still with company, all to save her land… and suddenly she was slowing down her own purpose. She nearly needed Yevish’s pull to get herself onto Darkstar. The emotional drain was taking her physical strength now too. She struggled to have the strength for the day and her mind was never clear now. It had only been less than two weeks and already these nightmares from her past had nearly destroyed her. Peace clung to Yevish, leaning on his strength to keep her going. She looked up to the sky, silently praying for Yeshua’s help. Within half a day they were within sight of Chiff, and they joined up with the caravan routes. They entered the city as the sun began to set, Strife would spend tomorrow searching, while the others restocked their supplies. The guards starting pestering the caravans to hurry as they rode past the gates and down the main street. Ahead of them was a small caravan consisting of one steed, two camels, 7 men, and two women, most likely harlots. Peace and her brothers rode past them, but Strife stopped as he passed one of the women. He heeled his horse and stopped the woman in her stride. Peace and her brothers stopped to wait.

“Well well, I do declare…” Strife started off with a harsh chuckle. “If it isn’t little miss Chastity.”

The woman looked up at him, a sudden deadly fear springing up in her eyes. She let out a gasp and then attempted to throw the bundle she’d been carrying in Strife’s face. She missed, but turned and tried to run anyway.

Strife kicked his horse after her and caught her by her hair with one hand. Hoisting her up to her toes he looked her straight in the eyes. “Where do you think you’re off to?”

The woman squirmed and tried not to let out a cry as she weakly grasped at his arm. The other woman from her caravan hung her head and sat silent, the other men leaned back on the camels and watched. Peace held Yevish close and for the first time in several weeks she was completely aware. Her brothers watched with varying levels of agitation.

Strife held the woman a bit longer and higher, nearly drawing a scream from her. “Ready to chat sweetheart?” She nodded vigorously and he let her down. “Doesn’t look as if you’re trade’s been kind to you lately.” A cruel smile spread across his face as he looked over her bruises and thin cheeks. She spit up at him, but stayed where she was. Strife brushed the spit off his cheek and looked back down at her. He chuckled, “As I thought. “Maybe you should’ve taken my offer hmm?” The woman growled and looked down, shame and hate mixing in her sunken eyes. It was easy to see now her attempts at covering up the bruises with cheap make-up. “To bad those days are past.” Strife continued, his tone harsh and cold. Peace shivered, she’d heard that tone before, far too often. Strife leaned over and stroked the woman’s cheeks to bring her eyes up to meet his. “Now I need information. When last you saw me I was traveling with a band of men led by a soldier named Corref. You seen him lately?”

The woman shook her head hesitatingly, pleading she hadn’t. Strife raised his hand and backhanded her. She fell from the force of the strike and caught herself with her thin arms.

Strife circled her with his horse, adding force and fear to his threats and words. Justice started forward, a silent passion burning in his eyes. The men from the caravan laughed a bit and commented to each other, obviously holding no attachment whatever. Zeal reached over and put a hand on Peace’s shoulder to steady her.  

“Try again whore.” Strife’s voice had become a growl, fierce as a wolf. He stopped the horse before her as the woman looked up. “Where did you last see him?”

Tears begun down the woman’s cheeks. She shook her head again. “It’s been years!” She screamed, her voice pleading. “He was with you!”

“You’re lying!” Strife’s horse reared and it’s hoofs clashed down dangerously close to the woman with the thunder in his voice. Peace started and reached out to grasp Zeal’s outstretched arm. What on earth was happening? She knew he’d been a warrior all his life, and done many things, but this sudden burst of violence. Was this woman so low in his eyes? Like a street dog?

The woman screamed, shaking her head with all the force her frail body held. “No! I swear!”

Justice stopped Kloppit a few feet from Strife, stalling right behind him. “Strife.” It was a statement, made in a low voice, but it was clear and curt as stark sunlight.

Strife turned to Justice, surprise and challenge across his face. Just then the voice of a guard called out: “What in the damned is the ruckus?”

Justice, Strife, woman, and gathering crowd all turned to look at the four guards. The woman managed to sit up but did not lift her face and kept silent as a mouse. Strife turned and inclined his head to them. The guard’s straightened as they obviously recognized him. “Just a petty argument.” Strife stated. “All done now, no need for you to worry yourselves about it.” He finished as he looked down meaningfully at the woman. The guards nodded, ushered the crowd away and hurriedly returned to their posts. Strife glowered down at the still cowering woman and then started his horse towards Peace and Zeal at a very slow gait. Justice turned to accompany him.

The woman stood, fairly unstable, but managing. “He’s supposed to meet us here in two days.” She called out, her head still hanging.

Strife smiled to himself and flipped a coin back at the woman. He joined the others, all who were nearly glaring at him and then led them down the street. Strife took them to a well off house, where they were given three rooms and access to the open courtyard and fire pit.

As night fully set in the small company set themselves down around the fire, a thousand questions and emotions filling the minds of the siblings. 

Chapter 22: Those We Lost

They continued on their journey. Chiff was not far now, and they were all hoping that Strife’s men were still there. They all knew how time moved men and the other places which the Stranger thought that his men might have gone would be terribly time consuming to reach. This fact compiled with her continuously growing deep running distrust of the man made Peace’s own stress level rise to a most disconcerting level. Peace was starting to question this stranger more and more, despite her and her brother’s continually affirmed prayers that he was indeed the man Yeshua had given them to help. She had seen many good and desirable qualities in the man, especially for the purpose they desired him for. He was brilliant, having collected more knowledge and skill in his lifetime that most of Arthea’s best military commanders. Yet he didn’t lord it over others, and if you weren’t talking to him about tactics or watching him fight you might even mistake him for another rugged traveling soldier of fortune. It was obvious to Peace though that he’d seen more of the world than he wanted to. His eyes showed his age and his tiredness. He was ready to be done, and yet he was able to keep going, so he did. There was much about him however that Peace did not understand.

Peace wondered about him. He seemed ever old with all the stories about him. Reportedly he’d done everything, been everywhere and lived to tell about it. Yet for all that something seemed too able. Nothing lived through all that and was that able. He’d been a soldier, a leader, an adventurer; all for years on years. Yet he was still quite obviously brilliant and strong and also seemingly untroubled, despite the aging light in his eyes. No one was ever that truly untroubled. Especially not people from here. Had he truly walked out the Lord he’d been serving, betrayed him even? What had been in that village, did he truly do it for a woman or a boy? Being allowed to retire from the King’s army was also a questionable happening at best. What of those he’d killed or ordered killed, there must have been at least hundreds. Did they ever haunt his nights like they did Peace’s? And after everything he had supposedly done, why was he out here, in the middle of the waste, just wandering around? There had to be something: something deeper… something she needed to know before it brought the whole plan crashing down and left Arthea without such needed help.

Then again looking at her own state at the moment… it may not be a stranger that brought about Arthea’s ruin. There had to be a way to stop these nightmares, resolve the deeper problem. The problem that had been unresolved so very long. Peace looked up at the rising sun and silently questioned. She’d prayed, she’d studied, she’d listened and yet… perhaps today an answer would come.

It was another three hours before they stopped to wait out the hot part of the noon. They met and discussed travel plans before heading to rest.

“At our current pace we should arrive by tomorrow evening, before the gates close. Once there I’ll search for my companions. If I do not find them within a day then I’ll know they’re not there.” Strife laid out his thoughts.

Zeal quickly voiced his concern. “Will one day be enough? Chiff is quite small but people are still often difficult to find.”

“If they’re there, I’ll be able to find them. There’s no use wasting precious time.”

The three siblings nodded in agreement. They had very little time as it was.

“What’f they aren’t there?” Yevish piped up from where he was setting up one of the tents.

“Then we head for Arthea quick as we can. I can pick up who I need along the way.” Strife stated blatantly.

“Pick up who you need along the way?” Justice gave the man a quizzical look.

“No offense, but I’ve been here a good bit longer than you. I’ve served under a lot of people and worked almost everywhere. We got half a blasted country to cross, and it’s all territory I know. I’ll be able to find who I need. Time seems to be our most precious element at the moment.”

Justice nodded. This man did have a great deal more experience than them, and he was the one God had sent to help them. There were also enough towns along their route of travel that gathering a relatively decent party would be possible. Not that decent was a word one could really use with warriors from here, but that was simply a fact they’d have to deal with.

“That’s settled then, let’s get some rest.” Zeal finished up the meeting, noting the tired and vacant expression that was trying to conquer Peace’s complexion. He walked over to the already set up tent with her. “They’re getting worse aren’t they?”

Peace stared at the ground for a moment and then looked up at her brother. She nodded and then distractedly gazed back at the surrounding terrain.

Zeal followed her gaze. Why had these nightmares returned to her now, especially now when they so desperately needed everybody at their most possible best? They’d prayed, they’d searched, they’d done everything they could think of. Zeal didn’t know what her nightmares where of, but he knew they were somehow connected with here. Why shouldn’t they be though? She’d been miserable here in Barakdethen, he and Justice had done their best but what were two teenage boys supposed to do? They were working full time jobs to keep food on the table while their sister worked as she could. Not to mention that though Qualith was better than many cities Barakdethen was still mostly without law or rule. Every man and woman was allowed to do just whatever they could get away with. They’d tried so hard to protect her, and Hope… Dear Hope. They’d all been so young, and mother and father… They’d been through so much already and then to lose little Hope, only 8 years old. Mother died soon after: just couldn’t take it anymore, nobody could blame her. Father, he’d tried, he’d tried so hard to keep going, but he was old and when the soldiers came calling again. Well, Zeal never saw him again after the soldiers came to call him back into service. He didn’t really know what’d happened, but he respected his father no matter what, for all that he had done, regardless of his final act. It had all been so long ago. He looked back at Peace. She’d suffered the most from that, losing her twin. They’d been close, very close.

Zeal smiled a bit as Yevish came up and tightly hugged onto Peace’s legs. The boy was so mature in many ways, but he was still a child in desperate need of love. Love that he’d found in Peace and in God. Peace gently stroked the boys head and then followed him into their little tent. She needed the rest. 

Zeal watched them go and then went and sat in his own tent. He wondered to himself if Peace’s nightmares had something to do with Hope. Her and Peace had been very close, they never left each other’s sides, for many reasons. Safety and the warding off of loneliness among them. Though their family was close all of them worked at some place or another, even he and Justice. Justice was just 9 and he was barely 7 at that time. Peace and Hope needed each other, and mother needed them. It was hard, but they had made it so well… until then. Father had been in the wars for years before then, but the loss of Hope was just too much. She had always fit her name, and kept the family spirits up. There was never a situation in which she despaired, never a time when she doubted. She was sure of herself and of the joy of life, yet always so gentle and naïve. Such a beautiful girl too, both of body and spirit. He’d missed her, all these years. Sometimes late at night her could hear her childish voice singing some odd song or hymn she’d heard or made up, and Peace’s rougher voice joining in with hers. It was odd, but Peace’s voice had been terribly rough as a child, had become gentler as she grew, and now… well it was really quite gentler than Hope’s now. Zeal shook his head and laid back, he needed rest too. This journey was hard on them all, but he prayed, he prayed it would save Peace’s land and bring them back together finally.

Chapter 21: Silence and Turmoil

As the sun began to set the crew of 5 mounted and rode again. They were now only a few days from Chiff and all of them were very eager to reach the city. It seemed odd, but tensions among the small band were rising at an extreme rate. As the days had progressed Peace’s tolerance of Strife has lessened and everyone had sensed it. Peace couldn’t hardly look at the man without a seemingly unwarranted shiver shooting down her spine, and her dreams: her dreams had been getting increasingly worse. Perhaps a better way to put it would be to say that her memories were becoming clearer: too clear. It seemed as if every motion Strife preformed, every word he said, every mannerism he held, reminded Peace more and more of some nightmare from her past. She had tried to make some sensical connection with him, some reason, but nothing. She had searched elsewhere too, trying to recall if she knew Erlfag or if she recalled the symbol of his warlord, but nothing there made sense either. She had seen the men of many warlords in her younger days, but none that matched Erlfag’s. The one in her memories certainly didn’t. He had born the symbol of the king, not one of the warlords. That had been when the kings still had power. Yet despite all her searches, her questions, nothing seemed to connect with her troubled past. Something at the back of her mind kept nagging though, telling her that everything ought to connect, but nothing seemed to make sense together.

Peace leaned forward and clung tighter to Yevish as the sun fully set and the chill winds picked up. She derived a great deal of comfort from being able to guard her young ward, her little brother. It wasn’t just human comfort though: the comfort of being able to care for another human being. It was God’s comfort, the deep comfort which came only from the Father, the Creator of the universe, and Peace was infinitely glad for it. During this time of deep trouble in her soul she wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to survive without this comfort from Yeshua, from God. Despite everything that was going on within her, Yeshua was telling her that he was still there, always there, protecting her, holding her, loving her. She would never be alone, she would never have need to fear, she could never be touched beyond the earthly things…

 Yes, it was true, nothing could touch her beyond her earthly being, and yet being touched to the depths of the earthly was still painful enough. Ah, the pain, she was glad for those who never had to experience such depth of emotion, either good or bad. For even such a deep emotion, when of good, can cause a great deal of pain. Peace knew though that the depths of humanity which many believed could only be touched by love and all things good, could also be touched by evil, hate, and all things wrong in this world. There was a reason God warned so much about sexual sins in his word, for truly all other sins were without the body, but these entered into the depths of the human heart and soul. Peace knew, Peace knew firsthand and forever she had only wished that she had never known. Peace shook her head unsuccessfully trying to clear the thought. Those dreams, those memories…

Suddenly she was there again: in that simple inn room. He was there too, his strong and hated hands having just ripped away her thin dress top. ‘Father God on high she couldn’t live through this again, not even in her mind.’ “Please don’t” Peace pleaded with the man.

“Don’t challenge me, girl. I paid for this night, and I will enjoy it.” A rough chuckle escaped his strong jaw and sent a defeated shiver down Peace’s backbone. No, she wasn’t defeated yet. Last time she’d been taken by surprise, unknowing of the ways of vulgar men, in particular of her boss the innkeeper, but this time… this time she would fight back. Peace reached behind her to the small table where she had formerly placed a broken table leg (the only weapon available to her on short notice). The warrior snorted, turned, and went to inspect the pitiful bed that the room had to offer. Peace threw caution to the wind and charged, aiming the hefty table leg for the back of the man’s head. She had almost made contact when the man suddenly whirled and caught the leg. Peace’s strength was no match for his, so she knew she’d have to rely on training and cunning. She quickly spun to the right, shifting her and her weapon out of the man’s grip, and then as quickly as she could she did her best attempt at a distracted double-strike. She swung fixedly towards the man’s head with the table leg, the distraction, while firmly kicking at his mostly unprotected knee with her right foot, the double-strike. Peace may not have had a great deal of strength, but her kick likely would have damaged the knee had not the man worn hidden knee bracers. Peace released the table leg and stumbled back in surprise, desiring to nurse her now wounded and bare foot, but knowing that such would only harm her more.

The King’s soldier scowled a bit and threw the table leg aside like a twig. “They didn’t tell me you were a feisty one. A bit of training to your name as well I’d say.”

Peace would have liked to respond, save that she was unable to manage words due to the fear in her heart. She quickly scanned the room for anything which could help her out, but failed to find anything. The man took a step forward and Peace stumbled back, tripping on the hard wood floor. She gasped and tried to push herself up on her elbows. The man grinned, and reached down towards her throat…

Peace sat up with a jolt, and then gently leaned forward again, encompassing Yevish in her armored and weather protected arms. That was the difference between dreams and memories. Dreams required a state of sleep or near sleep: memories could take over the mind whenever they wanted. Peace shivered a bit and hugged Yevish tighter, while reaching down and gently stroking Darkstar. She could hear the hoof beats of her brother’s and the Stranger’s horse. It was difficult to see them in the low light, but the moon would rise soon and provide light for their small party.

Peace focused herself on Yeshua and began to settle. The world seemed quite peaceful right now. It seemed odd how everything could seem to be going all right and all wrong all at the same time. Somehow it would all work out though. In the end, no matter how long away that was, it would all work out for the better: for the goodness of the created by the will of their divine Creator.

Organization

Dear readers, sorry for the break in chapters. I wrote chapter 17 a little later than chapter 18 and 19, hence why it is posted later. It does come before 18 and 19 chronologically, however you will not be confused if you do not read it before them. Thank you for your patience. Enjoy and God bless!

Chapter 20: Memories of Another Home

Peace looked out across the landscape. It was obvious they were heading back towards the outerlands as everything was becoming more barren. Chiff was in the Eastern parts of the Northern desert, a good ways from the Arthean border. It was the second of three cities in the country which had managed to survive in the harsh deserts. Many more cities managed in the wastes and along the deserts borders, but only three had managed to sustain themselves in the center of the desert.

It was around noon and the small band had just settled down to rest during the hot afternoon. Zeal was preparing for the study of God’s guidebook; while Yevish and Justice were attending to the horses. Peace had finished caring for Darkstar already. The Stranger had set up his tent (which served to protect him from the sun) and was already resting inside. Peace noted to herself that Strife had been true and generous since he’d been traveling with them; though perhaps a bit hard and offish as well. Such hardness was not odd however and was commonly viewed as necessary for survival in the life of a warrior.

Peace and her brothers had prayed hard and searched God’s word for council and had been assured that Strife was the one God had sent to help them, and yet… his presence still made something deep within Peace revolt. Every fiber of her being screamed in protest when he came near… but it was without reason. Why did this stranger bother her so? In all her life only one other person had made her feel in such a way. Peace had searched her memories. She had prodded her brothers’ memories. She had even gone so far as to ask the Stranger if he recognized her. There seemed to be no former connection between them at all, much less one which would elicit such strong feelings inside of her. Strife had also proven himself to be a true warrior and had given them no reason for worry or suspicion. Peace shook her head: she’d just have to learn to live with it she guessed. Hopefully her natural response would fade in time.

Her thoughts drifted towards home: towards Arthea. She’d been gone more than a month now and she was deeply worried about how her people were faring. She remembered a special place in Arthea, a little sanctuary up in the Mountains called the Peace of God. There was a large lake up there surrounded by little villages and monasteries. It was like a paradise, though generally a little cold for some people’s tastes. She had learned much of God there in her younger days and had gone back as often as she could to settle her heart. She remembered going there some with Flieshiv when the monks had offered a few nights stay to the army. It was the way that the monks chose to show their support of their country: by caring for the soldiers and giving them a place of peace and rest on their wearying patrols. It was always good to visit there, especially with Flieshiv. Peace sighed a bit at the thought. It was both a happy sigh at the pleasant memories and a sad one at not having seen Flieshiv in so long. Joson Flieshiv, her dear friend for all her years and trial in the army. He was the one who had helped her into the military academy, and it had been him and his friend Bern who had kept her secret those first few years. It was also Joson who had visited her those years she was in prison and he who had eventually managed to get her free and back into the army. He, God, and Bern truthfully, but Peace had felt God’s blessings the most through Joson’s constant friendship. As she looked back at the last 20 years she realized that she wouldn’t have gotten anywhere that she was without Joson. She wouldn’t have had a clue about how to achieve her desire to serve in the army without him, and she wouldn’t have made it through all those years in the military without him. He had helped her through everything. God had helped her more, as always, though she sometimes forgot such, but God had often used Joson to help and guide her. Peace shook her head again. Flieshiv would be alright: he was in God’s hands, and that was enough.

Peace turned as she heard her name called and then walked over to her brothers and Yevish. She sat down and joined them as they prepared to study God’s guidebook. They would read and discuss and pray… and draw together as they drew closer to their God and Savior.

Chapter 17: A Different Character

       It had been nearly a month. Flieshiv looked around at his torn tent and sighed as he heard the cries of wounded soldiers. Arthea was rapidly falling to the hands of the Kreton invaders. These invaders had no respect for the legacy of Arthea: for the kindness which it had always shown its neighbors, nor for the refuge it had always provided to any who needed it. No other nation had ever dared to truly launch an attack here, and especially not a full scale invasion. The other nations, even those far away, had all heard of Arthea’s compassionate reputation and had often wished just to preserve the beauty and safe borders that that reputation brought. Not these Kreton though. Flieshiv slammed his fist down on his travel desk. These monsters called men had nearly burnt the whole land: only pockets of safety and refuge remained. They’d killed thousands on thousands, dragged others into slavery, and left the remainder to rot without food, shelter, or anything else. They seemed invincible. Nothing Flieshiv nor the other commanders had done seemed to even slow the invaders. Everyone prayed and begged God for help, but nothing seemed to change. This nation, which had so long depended on and worshiped its creator, was now wondering what it had done to deserve this fate. Many were losing their faith.

The truth was that there wasn’t hardly anyone left to help the people keep faith. Many of the monks, nuns, and others set apart to God were dead or enslaved. Several of those left were beginning to lose their faith. Nearly all of the monasteries, churches, and other places of worship were destroyed and along with them the copies of God’s book. Flieshiv shook his head sadly: there had been few enough of them to start with and now there was only a handful of copies which the monks had managed to save.  Why was God allowing this happen? What had the Arthean people done… or not done to deserve this? What could God possibly need to show them that called for such a monstrous event to occur? Or did it have anything to do with them at all?

Flieshiv stared blankly ahead for a moment and then sat back in his chair with a sigh. It had been almost a month, and there was no sign of Peace. He worried for her and never ceased praying for her safe return. He knew she had said three months, but he was starting to wonder if Arthea had that long. The land was burning away so fast. The people were dying. Everything was being destroyed. Flieshiv shook himself again and stared back at the torn tent wall. Slowly his thoughts drifted back to Peace. He knew God would guide and protect Peace. Flieshiv wondered what or who God would guide her to. How would God choose to use Peace, and would he allow their salvation to come that way? Would He allow it to come from a foreign land, or would He send help some other way?

Flieshiv shook his head again: he missed her. He missed her warm, though sometimes sparse, smiles… and laughs. Her gentle heart and courageous soul. Her tanned and worn complexion, which seemed to him most beautiful. He missed her flowing hair which, though rarely seen down, was breathtaking. After nearly 20 years of battles and trials in the army and who knows what in the 21 years before that her hair had still retained its gentle golden color. Flieshiv smiled a bit to himself as he remembered Peace. She had always been a fierce one, though in a gentle way. She was strong too: always able to hold up to any challenge no matter what it cost her. She could persevere through any trial too, and she always attributed it to God. She understood that she couldn’t have gotten through any of it without Him and her continuous faith had always helped to strengthen Flieshiv’s. He had helped to strengthen her’s as well. When he was weak: she was strong. When she was weak: he was strong. And when they both had no more strength: God was strong. God was always there: lifting them up, showing them the way, drawing them closer to Him, and to each other…

Flieshiv smiled a bit and then shook off the thought. Now was not the time for that. He then leaned forward and bent his head. He depended on this talk with God, this time of prayer, to keep him strong and on track. Tonight though, he needed to let his heart out. He needed to pray for Peace, and for himself, and for their whole world which seemed to be slowly burning away.