*an element of
steuben, the soldier*
steuben looks around. the space he was is seemed to have no limits. beyond a few meters the fog becomes a solid wall. the dense fog on the ground came to just above his boots, obscuring the ground completely. he is wearing a simple tunic, belt and pants, whole without tears. he takes a few steps and finds the ground flat, firm, and bare. a short distance away stands a table. he walks over to it. it is a simple table, planed smooth but not polished by wear. on it, at opposite ends, is laid a sword and a black smith's hammer.
"where am i?" he says to himself.
"somewhere for you to make a choice," a female voice says behind him.
he turns around quickly. he begins to reach for the sword he isn't wearing. he stops the motion almost as soon as it begins. in front of him, several meters distance is a young woman. she is wearing a simple pale green dress, whose hem disappears into the mists, and a thick pale grey sweater. her dark brown hair falls behind her shoulders. she appears to be in her late twenties, and would have gone unnoticed in any town. except for her eyes, they are a solid sapphire blue.
"a choice?" he says.
"you are at a cusp in your life. it can go in either direction. you have but to choose it."
"and you are?"
"some one offering you a choice."
she walks over to the table. her dress billows with her steps. zthe hem never rises above the mist. steuben turns back to the table.
"the way of the solider, or the way of the smith." she gestures to the sword and the hammer in turn. "choose one."
"why?"
"tell me, what is the last thing you remember?"
"i was leading a charge."
she waves her arm. an image overlooking a battle field forms. the yliaki pictured in it are not much bigger then her thumb. there are two lines of yliaki, one bigger then the other. the two lines are converging. in front of the smaller force is a single figure. steuben looks through the image as if focusing on something beyond it.
"if we could break their charge we could turn the battle. it was chancy. but we would certainly be defeated if we stood our ground. i remember being hit by an arrow."
she waves her arm. the image zooms in on the leading figure. it is steuben running. an arrow strikes him in the chest near the right shoulder. he nearly misses a step. a second arrow hit him in the left thigh. he stumbles but regains his stride, his left leg moving stiffly. a third arrow hits him in the chest. he continues slowed slightly, grim fierceness and determination on his face.
"they tried a barrage, pretty risky. at the range we were at you'd chance splashing your own troops."
the image shows the ground near steuben erupting. he flies through the air. he lands hard and rolls several times. he stops face lying on the ground face up. he lays there, his amour blown off, the arrow shafts broken of flush with his skin, his tunic and pants a ragged and bloody mess.
"i remember looking up at the ceiling and wondering why it looks blue, when up close it is grey. and then not much before, this. but, this is not what i expected for hell."
she waves her arm, the image disappears.
"we are the only yliaki here. there is nothing else save what you see. some would call it hell."
"for my sins i deserve much worse," he says softly.
"your sins?" there is a note of amusement in her voice.
she waves her arm; the image of a young fenki barmaid appears. "she would still be a slave." she waves her arm, the image of a senior lieutenant, "she would be living alone in disgrace." wave of the arm, now an image of a young ynnwn and her two daughters, "they would have been raped and murdered." a wave of her arm, a lively town, "they would have been wiped out." a wave of the arm, an image of thousands of yliaki, "and what would have happened to them?"
"raped. mutilated. tortured. killed," he says quietly, not quite focusing on the image.
"these and others are counted among your sins?"
"no, those that i have killed, ordered to their death, ordered killed, those that followed me and died, those i could not save, and more are counted." he closes his eyes and reopens them. "those that i see every night."
"hmmm," she looks off to one side for moment. "it would seem that your sins are outweighed by all else."
"no," an edge in his voice. "i will not have them measured like that. the good i have done does not erase the evil."
"in the end, when all that is left is the deeds that are remembered, does it really matter?"
"to me it does," the edge slips out of his voice. "who are you?"
"someone who waits for your decision."
"and, i have decided."
he turns to the table. he reaches for the sword.
"you would add to both sides of the scale?" she says.
his hand pauses above the hilt.
"perhaps. but i will not abandon those i lead. i will not at that weight to the scales."
he grasps the hilt of the sword.
"if such is your choice, so be it." she says with resignation.
he turns round and looks at her. the sword hangs down by his side.
"however heavy it is, there will come a day when i will be able to put down the sword. but that day will not be today."
"you will now return."
"before i go, who are you?"
she looks down. "i don't know," she whispers at the mists.
he steps over to her. he gently lifts her chin. "then i shall find out for both of us."
"why?"
"because, you offered me a choice."
she turns away from him. her head slips from his hand.
"no. i didn't."
he blinks, opening his eyes to the roof of a medical tent. he takes a shuddering breath as the pain washes over him. he feels the bandages binding his wounds.
"i shall learn it anyways," he whispers.
