The After- End 04

When his mother had became sick by the plague after being infected by one of the contaminated patients, his father was so scared that he stayed by her tirelessly monitoring and treating her all by himself for days until she became hale and hearty. She made him swear on her sickbed never to bring the patients home or treat them in the house. That was how there house and family had escaped subsequent plagues infection and had escaped the infirmary pa-lava.

Slowly passing through the new village, he tried to detect signs and readings that his father had passed through as his father had vaguely taught him. Seeing no signs, he asked around yet he wasn't fortunate enough to receive any good news concerning his quest from anyone on the road, or even when he moved to the next village. Some said that they have never met his father, others said he was around some days ago but they don’t know where he could be. While he continued his search, he observed that people looked at him strangely. Quietly assessing himself, he checked out his habit and his shoes - there were intact- nothing was wrong with his dressing. Unless he was smelling, he sniffed his cloth and could hardly detect any foul scent. Absentmindedly, he swung his satchel which was resting on his abdomen to his back with his right hand and the empty compartment laid on his upper body.

I am okay, what's wrong? His face suddenly lighted up, he had remembered.

The dagger!

He removed his dagger from the sash that held it in place. Squatting, he placed the dagger in his left shoe leg and inserted the grip inside the shoe. Standing up, he caught a glimpse of a shrouded figure in black garb with the hood covering his face moving in a hurry towards him. Taking a few steps away from the person approaching, he observed the figure and the hairs at the back of his neck stood still. He thought of running off.

Then he heard the voice call out to him, “Coward!”

“Run like you used to!”

Thinking otherwise, he quickly searched for a hiding place, sighting a bush just ahead, he hid behind a bush. The wheels in his head kept turning as he thought of what to do and how to defend himself.

What do I do?

“Kill him”, the voice said

“I can't kill him.” He answered

“You either kill him or you'll be dead”. The voice continued aggressively.

It's true, I have to. Isn't it a sin to kill?

“Don't you need to protect yourself?”

“I need to…to find my father” he said repressively.

“You must kill him.” The voice repeated again.

“I must kill him.” he conceded.

Still behind the bush, he bent down and lifted his garb with his right hand and removed his Norseman crafted dagger from his shoe. He stood up and the garb dropped to his feet. He held the dagger to his right hand and patiently waited to attack. When the figure was about to pass by he pounced on him catching him off guard. The figure fell unceremoniously to the ground and he blindly struck his chest in a rage, the dagger pierced deeply into the person's heart. The contents the person carried on his back dropped to the ground. The ground was littered with dry brown leaves, green and brown husk which looked like hardwood, and pieces of a broken clay pot that once held the contents together. He drew off the hood covering the man's head to reveal his face, he was stunned by what he saw.

"What have I done?" He said shaken up,

I have been played, he thought

“You are such a fool”. The voice laughed at him.

"My son… why?" thick blood slipped from his father's mouth.

I couldn't save my mother, now I have killed my father. I'm a murder, a murderer, a failure, and a

murderer. He sobbed on the person's chest.

"I'm sorry Father" he sobbed on his chest.

A drop of tear left his father's eye and passed to his ear as he moaned in pain. When he began to gasp for air, he forcefully clenched his son's hand and whispered in his ears. "My daughter, my grandchild, and your wife...have been taken by the Grand Master" he paused to regain the little strength he had on.

When he did, he continued "It's no use going after them, there's nothing you can do, ...you don't have what it takes to save them"

"I know you would never have the gut" he looked at him straight in the eyes, his gaze wavered in deep scrutiny.

"They are better off with him than with you...you will eventually kill them with your own hands if they stay with you" more and more blood spilled from his mouth. "The same way, you've killed me!" he concluded, after which he released his grip. He took his last breath and gave up the ghost.

The silence around him was deafening, he stared for a long time at the corpse. His red eyes slowly clouded up with new tears as he gave a heart wrenching scream. Despite his scream and continuous cry for help, no one could help they only passed by without sparing him a glance.

After staying on the ground for a while, his face had lost its emotion- expressionless but his mind was in turmoil. His father's words replayed in his mind over and over again, and it tormented him.

Out of the blue, a feathered arrow whistled past his face. Earning him a bloody scratch on his cheek and the little blood stained the ground while another feathered arrow hit the ground just a few inches to his feet. At that instant, he looked up and saw two uniformed men with specially crafted bows and arrows dressed in the black uniforms of the Grand Master leaping towards him and at the same time shooting arrows. He wondered how they found him. He jackknifed to his feet and ran for his life.