Outside winter was showing its teeth, sending strong gusts of wind into the valleys and plains, driving thick snow almost horizontally. We children gathered around the fire, glad we were warm and each had a cup of hot honey in our hands, covered in thick wool blankets. Grandfather looked at us and we looked at him with expectations in our eyes, pleading for another story. He smiled, his mouth holding very few teeth but sweet tongue, “a story, you say, eh?” We nodded as one. He took a sip of his honey, laced with some sweet vine, cleared his throat and begun.
It was said he lived in the forests of Va-lan, in the corner of Narra continent. He was a hunter, and a good one. He never went hungry, even during the coldest of winters and what he had he was willing to share with those who came to his door. He never turned away anybody, no matter what his station. And he never took anything in return, he believed in the old code of hospitality. Or maybe he believed in the legends of hungry spirits who haunt the ones that chased them away. And he had a beautiful wife, hair the color of raven’s feathers, as black as the Bottomless pond and eyes the color of sapphire. He loved her very much and she loved him back and gave him two children. Twins, a boy and a girl. He was happy as one could be in those times. But then the scourge came. First the war, then the hunger and then bandits.
He fought in the war, of course. He was at the siege of Uran-ha, first over the ramparts. But something changed in him then. He saw the true face of his people. The killings, the looting and it made him sad. But he took an oath to serve under his lord and he was no oath breaker. So he stayed. When Fimarrians retook the city he fought as hard as he could but it was all in vain. During the hot summer he marched back with the remains of the army. He was there when Fimarrians under their goddess-queen fought them again for the last time. Aye, he was there all right. He and his friends formed a line, bringing down their halberds time and time again but each time there were less and less of them, until in the end he stood there alone, among dead bodies of his friends. He turned his eyes toward the sky and called on All-seeing One to take him in his arms and not to turn his face from him and prepared to die. But the death passed him. The queen ordered her troops at the pain of death to take him alive so they tied him and brought her to her tent. He refused to bow to her so her guards knocked him down and laughed at him. But the queen did not. She dismissed them and when they were alone she told him his future. He will live but will see his loved ones die. He will kill but will not have his revenge. He will not eat but he will not be hungry. He will not drink but will not be thirsty. And with that she let him go.
With her prophecy heavy on his mind he journeyed home, fearing what he’ll find there. But all seemed well there, wife and children waiting for him. As the months passed he forgot the prophecy and went back to his old life, yet the prophecy did not forget him. With war lost life got hard and food was scarce. But he was a skilled hunter and his family never went hungry. But there were other dangers, the ones that walked on two legs. One winter day he was out searching for animals that hid in their holes when he noticed smoke coming from his house, much more smoke than there should be. He ran back through knee high snow only to find his house in flames and his family gone, only horse tracks showing where they went. He remembered the prophecy then and he cried. But he knew what he had to do. His war chest was well hidden, buried and untouched. He put on his armor and helmet, buckled his belt with sword and followed the tracks. Soon he heard laughter and smelled a roasting meat. He slipped into the woods and circled around, coming to an abandoned house where bandits, already half drunk from spirits were resting, big piece of meat roasting over the fire. He took his sword in his hands and walked in. "You took my wife and my children" he shouted "return them to me and I’ll let you live." The bandits roared with anger and attacked. He killed them one by one until only one was left. He demanded his family back again but the bandit only laughed at him. "They are already dead, you fool" he said to him, "you’ll never see them again." Those were his last words before his head was chopped off. But it was true, his family was dead.
With tears in his eyes he buried them and left. He wandered the woods aimlessly, not knowing where he was, not knowing where he was going and not caring either way. He called on All-seeing One to end his life so he could be with his wife and children again but the end didn’t come. As spring came a Fimarrian horse patrol found him, covered in dirt, with beard and hair coming down to his waist. Thinking they faced a demon they attacked but he fought back, killing all but one, a young noble. Then he disappeared back into the woods. The noble told others what he had seen and in time a legend began to grow around him, each person adding a little to the story. But not all of it was made up. He was drawn to the war as moths are drawn to the light. He shaved his beard, he cut his hair so people didn’t recognize him. It didn’t matter who he fought for, nor against. Despite the past he was in Fimarrian army when they faced Zurarri hordes, he was at Klima pass when 500 Hutta warriors stood against the multitude of Cixa, where war was to be fought, he was there. Seeking death to rejoin his family but having that elude him time and time again, despite having his helmet caved in numerous times, having his body pierced by countless arrows and having swords and spears driven into his body as often as saffron pins are stuck in a lamb roast.
One day he was swimming in a lake when he noticed people on the shore watching him. An old woman called him over. He was ashamed that he was naked in front of somebody of obviously high station but she wasn’t. She looked him in the eyes and he remembered that day long ago when she was still young, not with gray but with fiery red hair and flush with victory. "I didn’t bow to you then and I will not bow to you now" he told her but she only smiled. "You are as was foretold. You walk the earth and you search for death. But that which you seek will not come until the stars shine above us and earth crumbles beneath us. You are destined to be here when our bodies will turn to dust. When the end will come you will find peace and you will meet your family. But until then you will be as you are." He cried and asked her what had he done to displease gods that they punish him so. She shrugged and told him that she doesn’t know why, only that it is so. With that she mounted her horse and rode away. He stood on the shore for a long time, until cold made him realize it was evening. And with that he realized what his life was to be. Eternal soldier, eternal warrior, eternally living among dying people. He put on his clothes and went to search for another war.
With that our grandfather finished his story and smiled at us. "Children, that is the story of Luxembourg, the eternal warrior."
This story is by Luka Novak
You can follow him on Twitter as Aktarian
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