Black and White: A Fiction
Written by Bradley "Mr Flibble" Weaver.

Book I
The Land of Eden.

"And you run and you run
to catch up with the sun
but it's sinking,
racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same
in a relative way
but you're older,
shorter of breath and one day closer to death."

~Pink Floyd~

Chapter 1
~Dreams~


Lightning crackled through the air. Thunder rumbled in his bones. The air tingled with electricity. It made what little hair he had left stand on end.

In his childhood he had heard stories of gods, of giant creatures battling across the lands, of people being plucked from their homes to worship into the wee hours of the morning, but he had always thought them just that. Stories. Right now, his eyes told him otherwise.

He had never believed in God, and were it not for the pit in the bottom of his stomach he still would not. The feeling was not alien to him at all. He had been a hunter for many years in his youth, and knew that feeling when someone was watching him. Normally, he could judge a general direction of the hidden party from this feeling, however today it was altogether different. It came from all around him, and from within him. It felt as if the world itself was watching him, and he did not like it at all.

"Focus." he admonished himself. That was not important right now. Whatever it was that was watching him would not hurt him. He did not know how he knew that, he just did. He even thought that perhaps before the day was over, the presence may help him. He knew he would need it. Those lazy bums the townsfolk looked to for protection were hardly a militia. They posed as much threat to an enemy as he did to the mountains dominating the skyline. No. he would not be able to depend on them. He would not be able to depend on anyone but himself.

Over the past week a shadow of threat was materializing in his mind. Sleep was rare, and when he did sleep he dreamed of war. Soldiers plated in mail armor marching across battle scarred fields, bodies of the fallen being picked clean by ants and small animals, death and destruction on a level he had never seen, pure hatred with no concern for human life. In his dreams he felt a presence, so much like the one he felt earlier, yet so much different. The waking presence comforted him, his sleeping one contained nothing but malice. It burned through him like wildfire, jumping from tree to tree, consuming everything it touched.

A loud boom removed him from his dream world, and brought him crashing back into the real one. In a cold sweat he jumped out of his bed, knocking his head on a shelf on the way up. A steady stream of obscenities flowed from his mouth as he went outside, as steady as the stream of blood flowing from his fresh wound.

"At least it can't get any worse," he muttered to himself, but he had spoke too soon.

The shadow growing in his mind was indeed an army, and that army had reached them during the night. Flames licked the night sky, and stones of fire rained from the heavens. The crash he heard had been a large boulder. After rolling down the nearby mountain range it had broken through the city wall and come to rest in the center of the tavern. Beer, wine, and stronger spirits were flowing in small rivers from the destroyed saloon.

Without thinking a cry rose to his mouth, and was released before he could stop it, "Now you've gone too far! I'll kill every last one of you!" In the rage of the moment he charged towards the breach in the wall, wrenching a blade from a runny corpse propped against a nearby building and jumping over the body of a fallen soldier. Without hesitation he ran headlong into the mass of soldiers and began swinging.

Just as he had been taught. No wasted motion, no flamboyant fighting styles, only what needed to be done. Every slash of his blade met with flesh, every movement followed by a splash of blood and gurgling screams. He was death embodied, and these people had not known what they had awakened. If they had, none would have stood to fight, none would have dared to cross him. But they did not know, and he cut them down just as a farmer would cut wheat. Their lives meant nothing to him, just as his life had meant nothing to them. He would see all of their ends this night, or perish with as many kills under his belt as he could before meeting his.

He was lost in the fight. He no longer heard, he no longer saw, he only killed. Guided by instinct his blade met every target, of which there were considerably less now than when he had begun. Had he been more aware he would have heard the rumbling, felt the ground shaking beneath him, but he was too engrossed in the dance to notice. Only once the army which had attacked was reduced to a dozen confused, blubbering fools did he notice that the rumbling had stopped, that the light of the moon was blocked out by some enormous shape. As he turned to defend himself, he could barely breathe. He had heard the stories, but this was no story. This was very real, and it looked to be quite angry with him.

He watched in stunned horror as the creature raised its hand to the side and tensed its muscles to attack. The only sounds that escaped his lips before the giant backhand propelled him through the air were "Oh no..." and then the muscles released. Pain spidered through his nerves. He felt like a ragdoll tossed around by children, and imagined he looked somewhat similar. The ground he had walked on his whole life, never giving it a second thought, quickly grew further from him. As his body tumbled through the air, he managed to shift his weight enough to turn his face to see where he was headed. This didn't comfort him any, as he realized that he was flying straight towards the sharp craggs of the mountains. As his mind took all of this in, he began to see his entire life flash before his eyes. In one eternal moment he went from a baby to his current situation. As he hit the peak of his trajectory, there was a moment of calm. He accepted his fate.

If he was to survive, he would need a miracle.

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter 2
~Memories~

"No, no! That's all wrong!"

The wooden sword flew right through the space where he had left himself open, and cracked him squarely on the forehead. He cried out in pain.

"You're thinking too much, you need to let your mind be clear like the river. You must flow like water."

His teacher always said things like that, "You must flow like water." or "Only in peace will you succeed in war." and although the boy didn't understand what the words meant most of the time, he would commit them to memory, repeating them as if they were some holy scripture that would be lost for all time if he didn't. The old man's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me, Jake?"

He replied distantly, "Yes'r I'm listenin'."

"Okay, if you're listening then what did I just say?"

Jake replied in the same unconcerned voice as before, "You're thinkin' too much, you need to let your mind be clear like the river. You must flow like water. Only in peace will you succeed in war."

"Well, I didn't say that last part... but I am glad to see you're finally starting to get it."

The old man smiled his toothless smile as his eyes gleamed with pride. He was old all right, but not frail in the least bit. Muscles bulged from beneath his ragged clothes, little more than scraps now. He handled a real sword as nimbly as he handled the wooden one. Jake was getting better every day, and the old man thought that he may actually be struck soon. He had learnt not to underestimate the boy, who looked up at him with those same faraway eyes.

"Master Seya, can I go soon? I'm sore, an' I don't feel ."

His reply was quick and sharp, but nothing compared to the glare in his eyes.

"You whine too much, boy. You might as well have been born a girl. You'll never be a man at this rate."

Jake's posture changed. His muscles restricted as he raised his sword, body tensing like a snake ready to strike.To Seya's surprise his own eyes glared back at him instead of the boy's. No. That was stupid. It was just anger he saw in the boy's eyes. For a moment though he could have sworn that they had even changed color.

Seya watched in awe as the boy's face softened. His eyes had changed colors, that much was certain. Jake spoke with an eerie calm that made Seya's skin crawl.

"You're right. I whine too much. Yes'r you're damn right that I whine too much. I'm sick an' tired of gettin' yelled at. I'm sick an' tired of gettin' hit with these damned sticks, an' I'm sick an' tired of listenin' to you prattle on all day long. I'm not gonna whine anymore, that doesn't get me anywhere. Instead, I'm gonna beat you until you can't make my life hell anymore."

Seya grinned widely.

", boy! I was hoping you'd figure that out soon. Now hit me, if you can."

Almost faster than Seya could register, Jake's wooden sword was whistling through the air, carving a path directly towards his head. He brought his own sword up to defend just in time, knocking it clear. Without so much as a pause Jake shifted his weight, using the new momentum to his advantage. To Seya it looked as if Jake were moving at least twice his normal speed, if not more than that. To Jake, Seya looked to almost be standing still. His movements, however perfect the style may be, were slow and predictable. Jake easily bypassed his teacher's defenses and landed three quick blows;First to his left shoulder, second to his ribs, and third to his forehead with the flat of his blade, just as his teacher had done to him. The look of dumb shock that met his eyes warmed his heart.

"Well I'll be damned." his teacher muttered, collapsing backwards into himself. Jake screamed in surprise, rushing to his teacher's side.

"Oh my god! I killed him!"

"No, my friend, you did not kill me." Seya croaked, cracking a weak smile, "You gave me one helluva beating though, I'll tell you that much. I ain't been beaten like that since I was your age." He tried to laugh, but quickly thought better of it. Breathing was hard enough. It felt like his shoulder was dislocated, at least one rib broken, and he was almost certain that he had a concussion. Stars danced before his eyes as distant sounds echoed in his mind.

"I'm sorry, Seya. I didn't mean it!"

"Ha!"

He immediately regretted putting so much force behind this last word as he began to cough up blood. His eyes went wide when he realized that he was choking. This was it. After living as long as he had, this was how it would end. Slumped on the dirt, cradled in his student's arms, choking on his own life force. It made him want to cry. Before he could he was tilted to the side, the blood running from his throat, clearing his airway. He coughed the last of it out and breathed deep, tasting something he barely recognized. Life. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive. He felt that his life had had purpose, and that he had fulfilled that purpose. He looked up into Jake's eyes. Tears were streaming down his face, and he came close to choking on them several times.

"I'm so sorry..." Jake whispered.

"Don't be." Seya whispered back, "You have made me proud this day. You are now a man. You will make your father proud, I'm sure of it."

"Please don't die..."

"Me, die? Not yet boy. It'll take more than that to kill me."

His breath gurgled in his throat and he rolled to clear it once more. When he turned back his look was different. It was far more serious. The look worried Jake.

"Now you must leave."

"Leave? But where would I go?"

"You must go into the world and begin your new life."

"But...but..." Jake stammered, "But where would I go?"

The old man smiled his toothless smile and took Jake's hand in his own.

"You must go out there." He pointed off into the distance, "The Wild."

"But I'll die!!" Jake squawked.

"If that is your destiny, then yes. I do not think the Gods will let you die, though. Your skill is far too great. I think you and I both have much yet to accomplish before joining the universal mind."

A look of calm washed over Jake's face. A look of understanding. He sighed, and nodded slightly.

"Will you be okay, if I leave that is?" he questioned, looking half like a frightened child, half like a stone statue of Zeus or some such God of old.

Seya responded first with a smile.

"I will be fine, friend. It is a shame we can not spend more time together, but that is the way of things. I am lucky to have had the honor of teaching you these past years. I hope that you will speak fondly of me to your children, and your grandchildren."

For a long moment, they only stared into each other's eyes. Finally Seya broke the silence.

"It is time." he said softly,"You must leave now. Take a bow, and your blades. You will need them if you are to survive."

For a moment Jake looked to be on the verge of tears, and then showed nothing. His face was devoid of all emotion. He looked deep into his teacher's eyes, and then smiled. He clapped his fist to his heart and bowed slightly. He spoke only two words.

"Thank you."

Without pause he turned, gathered his things, and set off into the wild. He had no idea what to expect, but he felt no fear. He felt like he could challenge God himself to a fist fight, and win, with one hand tied behind his back. As he walked away a sound was carried to his ears by the wind. It was the last sound of his old life, and the first of his new one.

"Thank you."

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter 3
~Intervention~


His parents were both murdered a week after he was born. Seya had promised them, before they drew their final breath, that he would raise young Jacob to be a man. He was fifty-four at the time, and it was another fourteen years before Jake had moved on. Although Jake never discovered the fact during his life, the old man lived another ten years in peace, spreading his knowledge to all willing to listen, before dying in his sleep one night.

Now the boy was all alone, wandering through the woods in the dead of night. He hoped that he would find food soon. His stomach was growling something fierce. Suddenly there was a rustling in the woods, a gust of wind. It was sort of a howling wind, and he thought the rustling was a deer. Slowly, he began to feel lighter. The wind became louder. It picked him up and he slowly began to tumble. Panic struck him until his vision fixed on the sky. It was a peaceful sight, and it relaxed him greatly. His thoughts brought back to the present, he realized where he was and what was really going on.

He had just reached the peak of his flight and was beginning to build up speed toward the cliffs. There would be no soft landing on the razor sharp rocks. He could think of nothing else to do but pray, and so pray he did.

"God," he began, "I never really believed in you, and I'm still not sure if I do now, but I know that you're my only chance. Please God. I ask only for your help, and I will forever be in your debt."

As if on cue the winds picked up, blowing him slightly towards the town. It didn't look quite as deadly as the rocks, but it still didn't look like he was going to walk away from this one. He sighed and a small smile spread across his lips, "It's okay God, thanks for trying anyways. I appreciate the sign that you do exist. I guess I'll be seeing you soon."

As the ground rushed up at him he had an urge to spread himself out flat. Suddenly he noticed a patch of trees seemed to be leaning in towards a central point. It looked like that was going to be right where he would land. Before he could wonder what was causing it, the air itself exploded outwards. As it exploded it ripped trees from the ground and sent rocks and animals flying in every direction. As he hit the shockwave, it felt like hitting a soft mattress. To his surprise the blast launched him in a new trajectory leading straight to the center of town. As soon as he had cleared the wall he slowed almost to a stop, as if some giant hand had caught him and was now carrying him around.

He was slowly lowered to the ground, and slumped onto the grass. He tried to stand, but both of his legs were broken, as well as his arms. From the pain in his chest he judged that he had broken at least four ribs. He would not recover from these wounds, this would be his end. He flopped onto his back in surrender, "Okay God, I'm ready to go. Thank you." but something happened he did not expect. He began to feel a slight tingle building up in his bones. At first he thought that it was just his bones in shock from not being where they should be, but he soon realized that this was some different all-together.

It felt to him as if his entire body was humming with light, a bright white pulsating light which seemed to heal his mangled limbs a little more with each pulse. Either he was insane, which was quite possible after all this time, or his bones were righting and mending themselves. His shattered legs straightened and hardened, his useless arms functioned perfectly now, even the headache which had plagued him for months was gone. At first he did not want to test his legs, afraid that they might buckle under his weight, but after he gathered the courage he found them to be in perfect working order. He stood and stared into the sky. What he saw next took his breath away.

A face looked down at him, but it was no normal face. It appeared to be made entirely out of pure energy, swirling and pulsating. It seemed to smile, a comforting smile that made him feel safe. He felt that presence again and gasped in recognition, "It was you I felt, you're the presence I felt!" and the face did smile and nod. He heard a voice in his head which somehow spoke without speaking. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but felt the need to sleep threatening to overwhelm him. He could only think of one thing that mattered at the moment, "You're not the only one, are you?"

The face cringed for a second, and then smiled at the mortal below him. The voice in his head comforted him, "No, I am not the only one, but you need not fear the other who threatens us, the one who attacks us. He rules through , enslaving his people with fear. People will only worship through fear for so long before they long to be free. I will let them be free. I will let them live their lives as they wish. Will you help me to train the soldiers of the town and, perhaps, lead them in battle for freedom?"

"How could I turn down God?" Jake asked musingly.

To Jake's surprise God laughed, a hearty laugh that warmed his heart, and then looked down at him once more, "You are tired," God began, "and you have been through a trying day. Sleep well this night, and awake anew come morning. You surely have more questions, and I will answer as many as I can tomorrow. I apologize but I have other business to attend to right now, I hope you understand."

"Understand?" Jake chuckled, "Of course I understand, you're God. I'm sure you have much more important things to do than being here talking to me. We will speak more later." although he never expected to hear the next words that he heard.

"Thank you."

He peered up into the giant swirling vortex of a face and felt like he would burst into tears. He felt like it understood him completely, almost like an old friend. Before his eyes the face began to slowly disintegrate, minute balls of pure energy twisting off in every direction. Before he realized it, the face was gone and he was left staring into the darkness. He walked back to his house in a daze, having fully expected to have met his end this day. He didn't remember opening the door, or taking off his boots and sliding under his covers. As he sighed a breath of relief a single thought crossed his mind, "Thank you."

As the darkness took hold of him he began to dream, and for the first time in almost as long as he could remember his dreams were not of war.

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter 4
~The Edge~

He dreamt of youth. His youth to be exact, or lack there-of. His unceremonious exile into the world at large. His inability to cope with it. Jake couldn't track humans yet, much less animals. His senses were so dull that several deer had grazed behind him and left without him ever feeling their presence. The unbearable hunger didn't help things any. He hadn't eaten anything since his new life had begun, save for some grass he had chewed on out of sheer desperation, and his mind was beginning to show it.

"How long has it been now?" he thought to himself, "Four days? Five? Maybe a week."

From somewhere inside another voice, very similar to his own, replied.

"It feels more like a month. I think I'm losing my sanity."

"I'm with you on that one, if I could just find something to eat..." he began, but the other voice cut him off.

"Don't even talk about food right now, I can't take it anymore. I'm thirsty too. Why'd I have to leave anyways? This is stupid!"

"Yeah. It is stupid. That doesn't change anything though. We're out here, in the middle of freaking nowhere, and we're going to starve to death."

"Not if we work together." The voice sounded sincere, but for a second Jake thought he heard something else. No. It was just his imagination. The voice was the same as him. He was the voice. He had just lost his mind, and he knew it. It would probably be in his best interest to have both halves of his mind working together though, so he decided to accept the voice's offer.

"What did you have in mind?"

The voice cleared his throat in his mind, "Great." he thought, "Here comes a speech." and then the voice began to speak.

"Well, first of all we need to start looking around at the surroundings. Try to find some tracks, see if anything's been grazing around here. If we find something, then we have to hide and wait, and hope to God that it comes back." and the voice let loose a laugh. It was the laugh of a crazy person, "Just pray to God that something comes back."

Jake was surprised. Despite the insane laughter the voice's plan was actually pretty . He wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. His mind always was in the worst places at the worst times. He looked around and saw nothing that struck him as important, "Okay, what do we do now?"

For a moment the voice was silent, and then after what seemed like an eternity it finally spoke again, "I don't know. I feel so weak, I don't even think I could stand up right now."

Jake had to agree. His skin hung slightly from the loss of his previous cushion of fat, his muscles seemed to be getting hit pretty hard as well. They ached and groaned, growing smaller with every passing day. He was about to voice his agreement when the voice suddenly cried out, surprising him almost to the point of jumping.

"Did you hear that?!"

"Hear what?"

"It was a crunching sound, like a plant being crushed. It came from behind me, turn around. It could be an animal. Turn around! Now! Turn! Turn! Turn!"

Jake realized then that he was irritated with the voice. Stupid voice, sounding like him. Showing him up, pointing out all of his mistakes. Maybe someone should just shut him up for . Do it in his sleep, make it look like an accident. Nobody would know, he'd never get caught. Then jake remembered that he had just gone crazy, and that the voice wasn't really another person. "Damn." he thought, turning around to look in the direction that the voice had said the noise had come from.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The voice had been right! As if he had wandered into some heavenly dream, a living, breathing savior stood before him, glowing slightly in the sun, eating small clumps of grass. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jake pulled his bow from his shoulder, reached back into his quiver of arrows. He only had ten arrows. He would have to be careful, he couldn't afford to waste any of them. Slowly he notched an arrow, raised his sights to the deer, and pulled back. As it neared its ideal tension, the bow creaked. Softly, but it was loud enough for the deer to hear it. To his horror the deer looked directly at him.

He knew that it was going to bolt, that he wouldn't be able to shoot it and that he would starve to death. His body would sit here by this rock until it was picked clean of meat, and then his bones would bleach in the sun for all eternity. But the deer didn't run, it stayed very still and just stared at him. Staring at him with an innocent look that seemed to say, "What are you doing here? I've never seen you before. Would you like some grass? It's quite here, and there's plenty of it for the both of us." and then it returned to eating.

Suddenly Jake didn't feel very about killing this deer. It was alive, just as he was. He could see the pulse beating through the veins in the creature's neck. He could see the deer's chest expand and contract with every breath. It was conscious, it was thinking, it had as much right to life as he did. He couldn't kill it, he had decided that he would rather starve. The tension in the bow eased, and he slowly lowered it to his side.

"I can't do it, I can't kill him."

"Like hell! If you can't do it, I will!"

To Jake's horror his arms began to raise, pointing back at the deer, "What are you doing?!" he screamed inside his mind, "Please! Don't do it! I can't do it! Stop!" but the voice paid him no mind. He pulled back on the bow, creaking once again, causing the deer to look up once again, now with a look as if to say, "Did you decide to come and eat with me after all?" but he couldn't stop it. Before releasing the arrow he felt the worst feeling he had ever experienced. It was joy, but not the kind of joy. It was impure. It was . It cared not that this animal would save his own life, rather only that he could bring an end to another creature's life. It made him want to vomit. Suddenly everything went black.

He saw nothing, he only felt. He felt the arrow in its place, felt the energy stored in the string, felt the air between him and his target, felt the path that would lead to the bull's eye, as Master Seya had called it. And then the arrow was released. The world flashed back into focus. The arrow followed the path perfectly, and met with the deer's heart. The look of surprise and betrayal on its face broke Jake's heart, but caused the voice to cackle in glee.

He couldn't take the conflict anymore, it was driving him crazy. The fact that he was already insane, and being driven to be more so, didn't comfort him any either. He was glad when the other began to gut and clean the kill. Jake didn't think he would have had to strength to do it, but the other seemed to be fueled by a form of twisted blood lust. It sickened him that this thing had resided inside of himself. He wondered how long it had been there, dormant inside of his own mind, waiting for the catalyst to set it free. He wondered what had caused it, or if there had even been a cause. Was this thing just another aspect of his own consciousness that he had refused to acknowledge up until this point?

Maybe he really was sick and twisted. Maybe he had snapped. Maybe he had crossed that threshold that, once crossed, could never be passed through again. His thoughts continued on like this as the other carved and cooked cuts of meat, intoxicated by the smell of searing flesh. The blood lust had seemed to have died down some, Jake felt the other relaxing as the meat sizzled above the flames. Finally he gathered the courage to speak.

"I couldn't have done that, you know?"

"I know."

The reply caught him off guard. Maybe the other knew things about him. Maybe it had been watching him. Keeping track of his every move, making note of his weaknesses. He quickly dismissed the thought though. He didn't want to accept that as a possibility. He had said that he couldn't do it, and that was how it knew. He knew that he had to keep friendly with the voice; Having an adversary inside one's own mind would do nothing but hurt him. He had to get this thing under control. He had to make his mind whole again. He knew that much, and figured that he would worry about the details later. For now, he would play along.

"Is it almost done?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, nearly done." the voice replied.

And they sat in silence until it was cooked perfectly. Jake had never been a cook, and was amazed by the other's knowledge of searing meat. It was almost as if he saw into the meat and knew how cooked it was. The first bite was like a little piece of heaven, God himself giving his body energy to work with. As he ate, the voice grew groggy, "I'm starting to feel a little tired, I think I'm gonna take a nap now." it whispered, sounding as if it were nodding off already, "Okay, I'll talk to you later." was all the Jake could think to say, although he regretted it immediately after the words had left his mouth. And then the voice was gone and, once again, he was alone.

It was then that he began planning on how to get rid of the other.

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter 5
~Showdown~

He was dead. That's all there was to it.

He had thought about his little 'problem' until dawn, and had come to one conclusion. He could not survive. It would be impossible for him to survive by himself. He needed the other. Jake was at best an adequate hunter, but the voice's skills dwarfed his in ways that he could not even hope to concieve of. While Jake could hear, or sometimes, if downwind, smell, his kill, the other seemed to able to feel his surroundings. Jake imagined veins of energy spidering out, feeling around like an octopus looking for a meal.

Shortly after dawn, just as the sun was breaking over the trees, the other awoke. In his mind Jake saw a face to match with the voice. It looked almost like him, but different. He couldn't place how it was different, but it was. It disturbed him no less than the voice itself did. It smiled at him, a smile that made him want to wretch, but he contained it and smiled back. It was a fake smile, but it was a smile none-the-less. Then Jake realized that he was smiling at a voice in his head and immediately wiped the phony grin from his face.

"So, did you sleep last night or were you up all night conspiring against me?" the voice began.

This line hit Jake in the heart like daggers of fire and ice. Maybe it really did know. Maybe it had been watching him the whole time, listening to his every word. Maybe it knew that he was planning something. Maybe Jake was doomed to continue this twisted charade until he died. Maybe it would keep going after he died. He didn't know, he didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. He was already dead.

"Haha! That was great! Don't look so sad, someone might think that I killed your dog!" the voice cheered. It began to laugh that same insane laugh, "That was so funny! Haha!" the face had grown shoulders.

"I don't think that's funny."

"No, I don't imagine you would. But, I also don't imagine you'd find the amusement in kicking small animals long distances either. Oh well, to each his own, as they say."

"Yeah, to each his own." Jake muttered. Then Jake let his inner thoughts come forth and before he could stop them it was too late, "I wish it was my own again."

"What?!" the shoulders had extended into arms and a torso. The arms were clenched in rage, face twisted in turmoil.

"'What' what?"

"What did you just say?"

"To each his own."

"No, it was something else! What was it!" the voice shrieked

"Holy hell! Settle down, you're too damned loud! You're hurting my head!"


"Don't lie to me," the voice began, "I know what you're planning. I heard what you said." the torso had sprouted legs.

Suddenly Jake felt helpless. The voice had been watching him, it knew exactly what he was planning. It didn't matter. Jake grew tired of this annoying voice. He didn't care anymore, he only wished for it to be over.

"Shut up! Shut up!! Just shut the hell up already! I'm sick and tired of listening to you! You're not even supposed to be here! Just go away!!" the cries of birds echoed in the wake of his outburst, and flocks of them soon lined the sky. The sight was almost relaxing. Almost. The voice's response took him off guard. Softly, yet firmly, it spoke.

"You go away."

Jake didn't know what to say to that, and so he said the first thing that came to mind.

"You go away, I was here first." but he was equally disturbed by this answer.

"I was here first, you go away." Jake began to interrupt but the voice continued over him, "I have been here since the beginning, and I remember the beginning. You have forgotten many things of your life, I have not. I know everything that you used to know. I have seen things that would give you nightmares. I have done things that would make you weep. I am harder than you will ever be. Harder than you can possibly imagine, and you made me that way. Perhaps I should thank you for that. But, if you think that I will ever be caged again you are sorely mistaken. I am free! You can not make me leave!"

Jake felt like giving up. The voice was right. He had no hope of defeating the voice. No hope. No. That was no way to look at it. Seya would beat him senseless if he could see him now. "Why are you thinking about the problem? Seya had asked. Jake coudln't figure it out. He had said to think about the problem, and Jake was trying to. "Think about the solution." Seya had told him, ensuring it was remembered with a swift blow to the side. Pain always seemed to make a lesson stick better. Jake was glad that, out of all the lessons forgotten, that lesson had remained. Fate was a strange thing indeed. Jake focused on the solution. He had an idea.

"I will not cage you, but I can not take this any more." Jake began, "I can not survive by myself. That much is certain. You know things that I wish I could know, and you are capable of things that I could never hope to be capable of. If either of us are to survive we need to team up. We need to join together again to become whole. I need your help." The voice was silent, and then it finally spoke.

"You surprise me Jake." it said softly, "I didn't expect you to be honest with me. I thought that you would give me some *** and bull story and then try to get out of it, but you didn't. You really are growing up, aren't you?" the body hovered before his mind's eye, glowing like a million fireflies.

"Yes. I am." Jake whispered, "I need to be sane again, I can't live like this anymore. Please, for both of our sakes..." but before he could go on the glowing figure exploded into liquid. No. It wasn't quite liquid. It was more like air, but it was silver. It was gold, and then every color imaginable. It expanded and enveloped Jake. At first he thought that he would drown, but soon found that he could breathe quite well. He saw faces, some of them were people he knew. Some of them he felt that he should know, but he had long forgotten them. It was as if he was looking into God. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed.

It was an eternity of memories, time no longer mattered. Past was present, present was future, future was ancient history, in an infinite expanse of verses. He saw the whole of creation as a single moment that stretched off forever in every dimension, even the ones we can't percieve. Taking his tiny corner of that reality, viewed at the right scale, existence as he knew it began to resemble cell structure, and, had he been more aware of what he was seeing, he would have seen that, in fact, it was many cells. It was a field of grass, and there was a giant lawnmower slowly lumbering towards them. It would be billions of years before it reached them, but it was still probably for the better that Jake didn't fully understand what it was he was looking at.

Slowly his own body absorbed the glowing air-liquid. With it came a soothing peace. He was whole again.

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter 6
~The Shadow~


Jake opened his eyes and found that he was safe at home, wrapped tightly in his blankets. A single beam of sunlight leaked through a crack in the wall and, its shape revealed by a light morning mist, rested on his left cheek. The warmth was comforting after his dream. He knew what he had gone through, but he didn't like to think of it. It was like Seya used to say, "While you're thinking about the past, the present is flowing by you." Seya was right, thinking about the past didn't help; At least thinking about that didn't help. He was sane now, that's what really mattered. Maybe not sane, but at least he was finally at peace with the voice.. He shut those thoughts away and focused his mind on what needed to be done.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretched his entire body and then stood. Walking over to a basin of cool water he splashed some on his face, wiping the drippings with a nearby cloth before tossing it back onto the table from where it had come. He opened the door, walked out and it slammed behind him. The familiar walk to the square gave his mind time to wander.

The soldiers needed him, the people needed him, hell, even God needed him. That was the last thing Jake cared about though. He had been in positions of power before, and he had seen others succumb to the seductive allure of ego. He had promised himself long ago that he would never capitulate to the urge to abuse his influence. He would live his life with humility and in the service of others. He did, however, have a choice of who he was to serve. Just because he would not abuse his power did not mean that he would not use it. He would not allow himself to be caged. He was not afraid of extinguishing life if he thought it to be corrupt or . He had made mistakes in the past.

Faces and echoes rushed through his mind. Memories of times long gone. Memories long suppressed, now suddenly being exposed, unadulterated, to his mind. The images and words played over and over in his mind; the choices he had made. Oh God, if only he could take it all back. What he wouldn't give to take it back...

Then he found the door in his mind, a red door with a bronze nob set in a green frame, which had contained the memories for all of those years and slammed it shut. A wave of relief washed over him as he realised that the experience was over, and that he wouldn't remember it anymore. But he hadn't shut it all away. There were bits and pieces which he could still remember. There was a face, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair. She turned to him and smiled, but the smile made his blood run cold. What was it that was making his spine tingle? The answer was so close, but he couldn't grasp it. Whatever it was was locked behind the door. He reasoned that it was probably best to keep it that way.

Trying to reason with a delusional episode; He felt extremely sane at the moment. No, he wasn't delusional. Jake wished that the answer was that simple, but something inside told him that the true answer would be nowhere near as easy to obtain. He pushed the memories from his mind. He had more important things to worry about right now.

Thoughts crashing back to reality, Jake realised that he was standing still and had been for quite some time. A small group of peasants had began to gather, chattering about the strange man who was standing perfectly still, staring at a wall for no apparent reason. Some joked about the new statue that had been built for them, while others simply questioned his sanity. It mildly saddened Jake that the townspeople didn't know that he was the one who had saved them so many times, but, after he had thought about it, he realised that things were better that way. His years spent in solitude while he was growing up were not without toll. He had become distant, detached, aloof from society. He cared for other people more than he cared for himself; The sole purpose of his life seemed to be saving lives.. At the same time, he found it difficult to communicate with other people. Often times during conversations Jake would become stuck with a thought that he could not translate. He always ended up settling for a word that only captured half of the meaning that he was searching for. He would have to overcome this obstacle if he was to succeed in his task.

God did not meet him that morning as he had expected, instead he found a log that had writing burned into it. The log read "Kind of amusing, a note being written on a log and all, isn't it? Anyways, sorry I couldn't be here like I had hoped. I ran into some... business that I have to take care of. Please continue on with the training as we had discussed. I will answer your questions soon. The recruits should be waiting for you in the industrial district. Luck." Then at the bottom in strange, yet beautiful, curling letters it read, "I have faith in you."

"Fancy that." Jake thought, "God having faith in his believers." and he let loose a hearty laugh that echoed through the hills. His jovial mood was shattered when his laughter was answered by a growling, almost howling, cry from behind the mountains. He recognized the noise and he knew exactly what it meant. There would be no peace this night, flames would light the sky and the heavens would fall.

The town center usually had a handful of people whose crops were having trouble and felt that begging for God to help them in their time of need would somehow make God give in to their wishes. Apparently enough people had seen positive results from this display that it had become common practice. It looked like half of the town was worshipping feverishly. Jake shouted to the nearest person.

"Oi! What're you all doing there?"

Slowly one of the worshippers stood and turned to face him. His face was soft and loving, and yet it was full of fear. The man spoke quietly, barely louder than a whisper, and Jake had to strain just to hear him.

"Old Jones said that God needed our help. He said that the people who attacked us before would be coming back, and he said that this time they wouldn't be playing any games."

Jake ruffled his brow.

"I didn't think they were playing games last time, but Old Jones knows what he's talking about. If he says that something's on its way then it's a safe bet that something's gonna be showing up some time soon. I must be going though, brother. Thank you for your time. Peace be with you."

"As with you, brother." the man said, bowing to Jake and then falling immediately to his knees to resume his worshipping.

Jake continued making his way towards the industrial district. "Just follow the smoke." he whispered to himself.

Smoke from the furnaces billowed into the clouds, ash lightly raining down on the surrounding buildings. Machines grinded and whirred, Blacksmith hammers rung out as they struck their anvils. The world had a dark, almost gothic, appearance due to a layer of soot which covered everything, including the ground. It reminded Jake of Hell, or at least what he thought Hell would look like. He was glad that it was so far away from the houses; He could barely see the smoke from his own house. For a moment he wished that he could go back to his bed, crawl under the covers, and fall asleep again, but then, as quickly as the feeling had come, it had passed. Then he felt like he was floating through a dream; He could swear that his feet weren't even touching the ground. "I must be cracking up." Jake thought to himself. It was just his imagination. It must have been. What else could it have been?

As if in answer to his question, a deafening rumble tore through the countryside. It sounded like the earth itself were being ripped in two. Off in the distance, where the cry had come from earlier, smoke billowed up in a very strange fashion. It appeared as if it were a perfectly straight line, but that line was moving. Several passing villagers shouted out in surprise, but Jake remained silent. He had a difficult task ahead of him. This was no time to show weakness. He had to be strong, and keep his mind clear. Emotion could not be allowed to sway his decisions. There would be consequences for that, he knew he had to keep his head in the right place. He had to prepare lessons for his students, he needed more than just soldiers. These were dangerous times, he had warriors to mold. With great difficulty he averted his eyes from the smoke and continued on his way.

Finally he passed through an alley and rounded a corner that lead him into a square that filled him with hope. There were nearly five hundred people in the square, and Jake suddenly realised that there were women as well as men, some barely old enough to be considered adults. There were also people as old as their mid fifties, but they were still in physical condition. Jake hoped that he would be able to make them all deadly adversaries before it was too late. Another rumble echoed in the distance as dark clouds began to accumulate in the sky. Jake looked out over this army of people that he had been tasked with training, took a deep breath, cleared his mind as well as his throat, and began speaking, loud enough for every single person to hear him clearly.

"Now, some of you may be afraid to kill..."

---

We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.