FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #6

Almost everyone thought the man and the boy were father and son.  And it’s no wonder that they did, seeing as the two were very nearly identical.  The reality of it was that the fates had seen fit to give both individuals almost the same visage, and had followed that little miracle by putting both man and boy in the same situation.  Perhaps it was a fluke of nature, spinning the same person out into the world twice before the first had passed on.  Everyone knew that after you died you would be reborn again and again, never getting a rest from living life after life.  The cycle was relentless, but never before had two such identical individuals been together in the same time and place, only a few short decades apart in age.

The man had arrived first, only days before the youth.  He staggered into the small village, half-clothed and starving.  He had no shoes, and his feet were torn and bloodied from walking league upon league.  Shortly after reaching the village he had collapsed; the villagers were a kind people, though, and rallied together to find the stranger food and shelter.  The man lay unconscious in the infirmary, slowly healing from his wounds and herculean trek.  Three days after the man had arrived, before he awoke from his coma, the youth arrived at the other side of the village in much the same way as the man.  The villagers, of course, found it extremely unnerving that two strangers had come to the remote village in such a short time, not to mention the mutual manner in which they arrived.  Like the man, the boy collapsed shortly after reaching the village boarder, also starved and half-clothed.  The youth, however, had the benefit of shoes, though they were much too large for the young boy’s feet, so his feet were rubbed raw and blistered from sliding around in them.

At first, as both man and boy lay in the infirmary, the villagers did not notice the similarity of their faces.  Both were starved, weak, and much abused.  In fact, it wasn’t until the two had both awoken that their resemblance was first noticed.  Only a day after the boy’s arrival, the man woke up for the first time.  He opened his startlingly dark gray eyes slowly, and opened his cracked, dried mouth.  He croaked out a request for water, which was immediately acted upon.  The man sipped weakly at water and thin broth for the next day or two, slowly regaining strength and color.

Late one night, the boy opened his eyes just as slowly and made the same, croaking request for water.  Neither man nor boy spoke for another two days.  They lay in beds facing each other, staring at each other, and sipping on their broth and water.  Both were regaining strength, and both were healing from their bruises and abrasions.  Finally, a week after the boy had first opened his eyes, the village mayor went to see the two strangers.  The villagers were getting nervous, and wanted answers.

“You, sir, what’s your name?” Mayor Kenton demanded of the first stranger.  The man blinked at him slowly, seemingly struggling to find an answer.  Irritated, Mayor Kenton turned to the boy.

“You, then.  What’s yours?”  The boy looked at the mayor, blinking his dark gray eyes just as the man had before him.  Mayor Kenton looked sharply at the boy, and then at the man, increasingly irate at the lack of answers.

“I find it hard to believe that neither of you knows your own name.  Or have you forgotten civil speech?  Common manners?”  Mayor Kenton’s voice was increasing in volume with every word, and his speech was coming faster and faster as his rage increased.

“My villagers have fed you and cared for you; they’ve put a roof over your heads and tended your wounds.  If you are unwilling to show your gratitude for this common decency shown my by people, I will have you both jailed before nightfall.”  The mayor waited for a heartbeat, hoping that one of the two would be decent enough to answer; when no answer was forthcoming, he spun on his heel and flew from the infirmary, slamming the door shut in his wake.  Both man and boy jumped at the noise, then turned their gazes to each other.

In the choppy speech of his homeland, the boy asked the man whether he had understood the mayor’s speech.  The man shook his head, and then responded in the same language, “No, I did not.  Do you know what he has said to us?”  The boy shook his head in response, feeling quite dejected.  He knew the mayor was upset, but didn’t know how to rectify the situation.

“You are from Annivial?  You speak the language?” The man was asking the boy, hoping to find some companionship.  Everyone in this village spoke such a strange, rapid language.  He was quite excited to find someone he could understand.

“Yes, I am.  My name is Jace.  I come from Annivial, but recently I have been away at sea.  I was taken from my mother and father and put on a ship.  They beat me with chains and made me serve them.”  The boy, Jace, broke off, shivering.  The older man looked at him, jaw slack in shock.

“My name, too, is Jace.  I came from Annivial 20 years ago.  I…” the older Jace broke off then, too shocked for speech.  The younger Jace looked at him curiously.

“We have the same name, and we have the same hometown.  Maybe we know the same people.  Where did you go when you left Annivial?”

“I too was taken from my parents and put upon a ship; I too was a slave, forced to serve the captain and beaten with chains.”  Both man and boy stared at each other in shock, not knowing how to understand these revelations.

As they stared at each other, trying to figure out what to say next, the mayor’s assistant came into the infirmary with a tray of food.

“Hello gentlemen.  I heard you talking in here, not sure what that language is, though.  Thought you might be hungry for something other than that broth they’ve been giving you.  Here’s some nice hot bread and cheese, and some roast mutton.  Cooked it myself, I did.  Same as what the mayor’s having tonight, it is.  Hope you can handle so much food after being sick and sleeping for so long as you both did.”  The young lady busied herself about the room, placing the tray of food in the middle of the room and bustling about as she spoke.  She got some plates and heaped them both high with food, giving one first to the older Jace, then to the younger.  As she handed the plate to the younger Jace, she glanced at his face and nearly dumped the plate in his lap.  She spun on her heel and stared at the older Jace, looking closely at his eyes.  She backed up a few steps, and then fled the room in a panic.  She was the first to assume the two were father and son.

“What do you think that was about, Jace?” asked the older of the two.  The boy shook his head in dismay and confusion, but tore into the meal with gusto.

“My young friend, have you looked at me?  Have you looked closely, especially at my eyes?”  The boy looked up at this, staring at the man’s eyes as requested.

“They are the same.  The same dark gray as my eyes – the gray of a stormy night lost at sea.  I know no other person from Annivial who has gray eyes.  What can it mean?”

“Young Jace, do you have no ideas?” asked the older Jace, ignoring his steaming meal.  “No ideas at all?  Think, my young friend.  When did your eyes first turn that stormy gray color?”

The boy shoved aside his half-empty plate, eyes wide in fear.

“My eyes, sir, they turned gray not two months ago.  At sea, we were lost in a storm.  The captain, he chained me to the bow.  They tried to sacrifice me to the Gods to save their ship.  They had sacrificed the other slaves, but the storm did not end.  They beat me; they lowered the chain until I was in the ocean.  My body, it slammed against the hull until I was broken.  I thought I would die.  They wanted to survive the storm.”  The boy broke off, tears spilling over his cheeks as he relived the horror of being a sacrifice to the Gods.

“Yes, my young friend.  You thought you would die like the other slaves had died before you.  But, as they pulled you back up to beat you again, the storm broke, did it not?”  The boy nodded weakly, confirming the man’s tale.  “And then, the men threw you overboard.  They were frightened.  When the storm did end, your eyes became the very color of that angry sea and sky.  You had pulled the very wrath of the sea into your spirit, and they knew you would slaughter them all if they did not get rid of you immediately.  Is this not the truth?”  Again, the young boy could only nod and cry in horror.  He felt the power of the sea rising in him again, and shuddered violently in the bed.

“How can you know all of this—my life story?”  The youth’s voice was a raspy whisper.

“It is my life story,” the man answered simply.  “I lived it.  Twenty years ago, it was my life.  When I fell into the ocean, I somehow struggled to shore, using the new strength the sea and the storm had given me.  I could not return home, so I fled.”

“How can it be your life?  It is my life!”  The younger Jace was becoming angry in his confusion.  He leapt out of bed, planning to attack the older Jace with that very strength from the sea and storm the man had mentioned.  Just as his feet hit the floor, though, the door opened again.  Startled out of his attack, the boy looked to see who had entered.  The mayor stood in the door, framed by candle light.

“So, you are strong enough again to walk, my young friend?  I thought I might give the two of you another chance to talk.  What are your names?”

“Jace,” spoke the older of the two, correctly guessing the nature of the mayor’s question despite not understanding the language.

“Jace?  What an odd name.   And you, boy, your name?”

“Jace,” said the man, again.  He knew the boy would not be as lucky in guessing the mayor’s meaning.

“Yes, I know your name, sir.  What is the boy’s name?”

“Jace,” he said again.  He pointed at himself, “Jace,” and pointed to the boy, “Jace.  Both.”

Finally, the mayor seemed to understand that the two strangers did not speak the language of the village.  He looked oddly from man to boy, seeing the darkness of their eyes, the similarities in their visages.  “Father and son?” he asked, not sure whether the man would understand him.

“No?” the older Jace answered, again correctly guessing the mayor’s meaning.  Now that he knew of the similarities between him and the boy, he knew people would ask if they were related.  “No,” he said again, then switched to his native tongue.  “No family, we are not father and son.”  The mayor looked puzzled, then backed out of the room, closing the door quietly.

“Jace,” the man said, “Do not be afraid.  I know your life story, I have the same life story.  Do not be afraid.  You believe in the Gods, I know.  You follow the fates.  You know about rebirth.”  The boy nodded slowly, hoping he would begin to understand soon.  “Young Jace, you see our resemblance?”  Again, the boy nodded.

“Yes, you have my face, and you have my eyes.  And you have my life.”

“Yes, but to speak correctly, you have my face, eyes, and life.  You see, my dear young friend, the fates have erred.  You know that when you die, you will be reborn to live life after life.  This time, the fates have moved too soon.”

“I do not understand, sir.  How could they move too soon?  How could we share a life?”

“I think what happened is this:  When I went overboard from that ship, I was supposed to die.  The fates took a part of my soul that day, and reshaped it into a new life.  That is where you come in.  But, somehow, I survived that death and made it to shore.  The spirits of the sea filled the void in my soul, turning my eyes gray and giving me new strength.  I was never supposed to survive.  You were never supposed to survive.  Now, I’m guessing, the fates are stuck in a cycle.  They took a part of your soul to create another new life, and the void in you was filled with the spirits of the sea, like what happened in me.”

“So, we share a soul?  You and I, we have the same life inside us?  The same sea spirits?”

“Yes, I think that is what happened.  That would explain us sharing a face; sharing a life story that is too strange for anyone else to have.”

“Why do you think we met here?  This village?  I have never been here before.  Um, I have not, have I?”

“No, this is the first time we have been here.  I think, young Jace, that because we share a soul and share the sea spirits inside of us, there is a sort of gravity that pulled us together.  We both have lost a part of our soul, and the parts left wanted to find each other.  A soul cannot survive in pieces.”

“But you said that the sea spirits filled that hole left when my, um when our, souls split apart.  So, there is no missing piece.  Why would we be drawn together then?”

“Because your part of our soul has only recently been split and shattered.  It felt the tearing apart for the second time, and felt another piece of itself across the world.  We were both drawn here against our wills, yes?”

“Yes, I did not choose to come here.  I came to shore, and had to walk this way.  I did not know why, sir, I just had to keep walking and keep walking.  I could not stop!”

“Yes, I left my wife and my child.  I, too, had to keep walking.  I also could not stop until I came to this village.”

“So what do we do now?  You have a part of my soul.  Or, I guess I must have a part of your since I am younger.  But, what can we do?”

“Well, the fates have put us into two different bodies.  Not so different, really, when you look at us.  But, the fates have chosen this for us.  I suppose, if you want, you can come with me to my family.  You can live in my house, and work on my farm.  I know you are a hard worker, and it seems as though we are destined to be together now.”

“Yes, perhaps for a time I can come live with you.  It is so strange, though.  What do we tell the mayor of this village?  I cannot speak his language.”

“I think we should just leave.  Maybe, in a few years, we will be free to explore our own paths again, but I think that, for a time, the fates demand that our lives come together.  Perhaps your soul needs time to heal.”

The truth of this statement struck both the older and younger Jace, so they agreed that they must travel together, at least until they felt they could move apart.  They left the village that night, heading south to the older Jace’s home.  There, they lived with his wife and child, keeping close the secret of their shared life, adopting instead the common belief that they were father and son.

*             *             *

After about fifteen years of living peacefully on their farm, both Jaces felt the sudden, strong need to travel north.  They left in the night, walking ceaselessly; compelled to keep traveling.  Forever, walking north.

back to Contest #6