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.
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