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Barken, History of the Midlands, Midpoint in the Beginning II
The Wanderer’s Story - the Wounded Man, part e
No matter, events
For so does Life continue
Here, and forever.
With backs to the wall, in this case our own cliffs
The Peacekeeper’s small army somehow was victorious
Their will, intent, and increased warrior count... was enough.
Many were the heroes of those few days.
However, it also found our new leader, the Peacekeeper, dead
And the little government left?
It just fell apart.
We, the Midlands, quickly became a no-nation of anything.
Our area became known as the Northern Midlands
With just little, tiny settlements, left scattered about;
The City on The Eagle’s Beak itself…
Became empty, a ghost.
For there was little to no commerce to be had
To promote any kind of economic continuance.
After all, who wanted to work in getting to the top of a cliff
To find no reason for the climb, but bad memories...
And strange spirits, that seemed to be gathering there.
The North Midlands were no longer a temptation, or a threat to any…
And the resources, what there were...
Were soon used up.
So all settled down, in the fields and woods
West and south of the Eagle’s Beak
Leaving it all, as past, into story, and myth.
I had joined the fighting with the forces in the South
And of course with the Dread now gone
As before, we were disbanded.
I lived there for awhile, but all was different;
Still, it was peace.
Then I was offered a secret assignment in the Northwest
Which was to contact the undercover spy we had in the Dread ranks;
I was to know him through a trading of coins
I was given one, and he in turn gave me one back, almost identical.’
The Wanderer pulled a coin out from his pocket.
‘A coin like this…’
He pulled an old, weird, large metal coin out of his pocket
And showed it to me.
‘This is what he gave me’, he said.
‘Kind of hate to give it back.’
He laid it on the table between them, and continued.
‘Back to the story…
He met the spy, the man himself
Well, his name he forgot...
And I believe in his wounds and pain, he truly did
Though not his strange face.
He thought the spy was one of the Ancient of Days.
In any event, in the information given
I carry the Dread’s future strategic plans...
For the final finishing swift invasion
Of all lands here, north, south, and further east of here.
This time they will have groups of their people chosen
To then stay, and begin to populate the areas.
They really want the Eagle’s Beak for something else...
That information I was not privy to.
But it is thought the strange aliens
Living among them are involved.
He found it quite amazing... these strategic plans
Seeing they are planned decades in advance.
Know these are not tactical, just the planned future actions
That will take place, in many years to come;
They do plan far ahead.
Of course then a following question...
Does anyone know what’s planned after that?
Unfortunately on the way back
He was surprised, by a small roving group of Dread;
And he did manage to kill them all
Even the two that followed him through the Gate.
And though he suffered greatly...
He still remained coherent at the end
I remember the words.
‘You have found me…’ he said.
‘Knowing well, my days are ended.
So it is up to you, new friend
To warn the Midlands in time.
Search for a man named Barken
He will know what to do.
In return, I give you information on two Gates
The one I used to get here…
And the other…
The other to go to a future time, if you so will it.’
Then a last part was said, as he was finally close to passing
The wound in his side, being no longer controllable.
He raised himself up a bit…
And I held him as he said his last words...
‘Yes, another Gate, I speak true...
To... a future Time.
Take that, leave it
No matter to me.
Though do at least warn them through Barken
As I owe the people at least this much...
For the terrible things I have done.
As for me... ‘
His demeanor suddenly changed...
‘For some reason…
I do not think this part is a dream.’
He sank back down, losing energy
As his breathing became troubled.
‘And I will not wake up elsewhere as before’, he quietly added
‘And hopefully those nine ghosts with their weird words
Will not bother me.
For it’s been like a hell at my door.’
He looked up at me, ‘Good luck my friend
‘Praise be... true, you are that.
May you always have a good Gate to choose...
Peace be unto you.’
The Sun was sinking down...
When, suddenly tightening his hand on my arm
His eyes opened wide, alert…
Fearful, as he stared focusing, directly it seemed
Through my eyes, boring into my very soul…
With his final phrase escaping his lips...
‘Tell Me, I was truly... Here!’
As he then, finally passed
Before I could give an answer he could hear.
Only a passing whisper could I muster…
‘Rest in peace, friend, here… forever.’
(to be continued)
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