Author: Johan Vesnic

He clung to the rocks, even as the effort of holding on was harder than clinging to life itself.

With every breath, another effort… another groaning and mournful pull, another inch of wall surpassed, with no idea of how much left to go.

They said he couldn’t do it, they said he could die trying; he was certainly willing to die proving them wrong.

Freedom, he thought, was often taken for granted, especially by those who enjoy it most. But take a dream away from a man and you’ll find out just how hard he’s willing to fight to get it back.

In the darkest recesses of his memory he remembered. He remembered the sun on his face and wind in his hair, he remembered the feel of soft grass on his feet. He yearned for that feeling as he climbed his way out of the darkest hole in this earth.

How much would he have to climb, he did not know. The only thing he was sure of was that he could not stop pushing, because the moment he did, it would be like giving up. So, he pushed.

His legs in agony, his arms as though on fire, his mind tired and almost ready to quit. But his soul… his soul was that of a warrior, his should was not about to let his mind, his arms or his legs take away the only thing that no one else could take away from him. His resolve.

Almost by surprise his hands felt something other than rocks. Without realizing what he had done, he had made it to the top. And every pain, every tear, every effort he had made in his climb materialized in the simplest, yet most powerful of gestures. A smile.

With a final effort he lifted himself over the edge and tumbled onto his back. The air was no longer damp and uninviting; it was fresh and full of promise. Even through the absolute darkness that surrounded him he could tell he was now outside, in the freedom of the night.

He sat next to the entrance to the well of forgiveness and watched the sun rise in the east. His eyes hurt from the light that he had forgotten and his mouth watered with the infinite smells brought by the breeze. He sat still, in absolute contemplation of all the things that had happened since he fell down…

He remembered being young and curious, full of hope and dreams, ready to take on the world and become something never seen on the face of the planet. But one misstep sent him tumbling down the well of forgiveness and once falling, he was never able to stop.

To the bottom of the well he crashed, and in the absolute desolation of this horrible place he found that he was not alone. A staggering number of souls had been captured by the well, and now kept them prisoners.

The well whispered in his ears “you are not worthy” and he believed. Oh! terrible destiny, for how long did he believe. How did they all believe that down in the well of forgiveness, the voices that speak from the darkness are your only friends.

Old he grew, trapped in the well, forgetting his desires, his dreams, his destiny. Feeding them all to the well, where they were never returned to him.

But one day, a single feather fell into the well of forgiveness and touched his brow. How did it get here, he didn’t know; but with a single touch it seemed to awake something inside of him, something that had been asleep for too long.

He began to climb; old and wasted away as he was, this became the most difficult of tasks. But he never gave up, for the feather had returned something to him that he had lost when he fell. The feather had given him back a notion, a small piece of his dreams.

As the sun rose higher into the morning he sat and contemplated his fate. He had no idea where to go or what to do. The world was old and new at the same time, but his memories were broken, pieces of an age ago, like the memories of another mind, like valuable antiques lent to another and he had no idea how to get them back.

Suddenly one came to him, the memory that had started it all. His dream was back in his recollections at last, and everything made a sort of sense that was both beautiful and magnificent. His dream had always been to become free and unencumbered, to transform into something never seen before, to rise above all others in a paroxysm of freedom that was hitherto unknown.

He had learned to become a bird.

He had flown here and there, every day achieving new heights, every day understanding a new trick, every sunlit morning gaining one more feather upon his skin.

The day the well of forgiveness captured him, just before he could fall, he released a single feather into the air and then he was sucked away into the dark places of the world.

It had been his own feather, falling down so long after him that had helped him remember.

It goes to show, he thought as he finally stood up and stretched his wings, that in this terrible world, help will often come from the most unlikely places. Even if one of those places is from within yourself.

Let me tell you a story, don’t worry, it’s not long.
It’s the story of a boy. Not just any boy mind, this is the story of the boy I never saw.
He was so magical with his blue wings, and he came to me so many times. But I never saw him, not once, not ever.

Do you want to know why?

Now, let me tell you about this boy, because I think you’re going to like him.
The boy I never saw is the boy you never met. It’s the boy you dreamed of in your darkest dreams. It’s the boy that never came when you screamed into the night.

One day, the boy I never saw, he went away, and he came back no more. And I missed him, because even though I never saw him, I always knew he was right there.

He was the source of all the magic that plagued the sorry years of my youth, he made me smile when I was sad; he made me laugh when I was mad. He made me believe that I could soar. He made me realize that I could fly.

And so he did, to you.

The boy I never saw is here no more and I miss him, just the way you do. Because when he left, my dear, he left us both.

Do you want to know who it was?

The boy we never saw was the innocence of when we were kids. Have you seen him of late?

I’ve been chasing after him ever since, and I just heard that he’s around the corner. He’s waiting for you, and he’s waiting for me. He wants to hang out again.

Do you want to go?

You called me today and you said to me: “Come home this Christmas”.
And I said… “huh?”

You said “Come home this Christmas, I miss you, I want to see you, I want to touch you, I want to show you my new collection of underwear”.
And I said… “oh… cool!”

But really, what were you saying? What was the underlying, mysterious, conspiring and intricate nature of you request, because I still remember the last words you said to me before this call… I remember them because you said “get the fuck out”
And that… well that stays with you.

And then you said “I love you”
And I said… nothing

I said nothing because there was nothing to say. the last time I saw you I had broken your heart, and I did not mean to do it, but that doesn’t make it any better now does it?
And i remember that you cried, and i remember that I cried, and we both cried like angry babies and that… didn’t help much at all either.

But today you call me and you say you love me and I don’t understand.
How can you love me?
I’m a monster, I broke your heart, I made you cry.

So i asked you… “Are you sure you still love me?”
And you said “Don’t be stupid, I don’t still love you, I stopped loving you a long time ago, the day I said to you get the fuck out”
And i said “Yeah… I remember”

And then you said “I just love you… once again”
You’re weird.

You say that love and hate are but a smile away from each other. For me, they’re not that close. For me, there’s at least 7 steps between love and hate and it goes like this:
I Love You, I Like you, You’re ok, I don’t care, You annoy Me, I Don’t want to talk to you, I hate you.
And you can’t walk that scale too fast… but apparently… I can.

And then, because of my stunned silence you said “I love you again, I don’t care that you broke my heart, just come home and let me love you, I know you never stopped loving me and I understand you didn’t want to break my heart”.
Oh, now you understand? so all the explaining I tried to do a year back was… well, I guess you understand now. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and all you can do is deal. and that’s what happened.

So, in this conversation that has keeps playing again and again in my head; I said “So you forgive me?”
And you said yes.
And I was the happiest man in the world.

And it’s all true… except… you didn’t call today. But maybe… maybe… you will call tomorrow.

I traveled long and far, beyond Augustine, beyond the gardens of Valearda, before they even had those names.

Once I met an old man sitting by the road, he was watching the world pass by with no hurry in his heart. And when I say he was old I mean he was as old as the mountains, as old as the sunset, as old as my soul.

He looked at me and smiled, told me to sit down and share his pipe. “I don’t smoke” I said. Then he shrugged and told me to listen to his tale.

“I saw a man walk by in a rush, his pace was hasty and his heart filled with fear, I asked him where was he going so fast. He said he was going to his future, and he did not have time to stop and talk. As he sped on down the road I asked him where he came from, he turned around a shouted he didn’t know”.

The old man looked at me again, and lit his pipe, and the swirling smoke hid his face for just a second, then he continued.

“A second traveler came by, his pace slow and his heart filled with doubt, and he asked me if I knew where does this road go. I told him it depended on him. He explained that he left home a long time ago but didn’t know why, and He wasn’t sure if he should go back. He stayed with me until nightfall and then went away, I don’t know in which direction”

The old man puffed his pipe and the smoke turned green, he looked at me once again and said “Today you have come by, and your pace is calm and your heart is quiet. Do you know where are you going?”.

I thought about it for a second. I told the old man, I said “I’m going to wherever this road takes me”. And a smile came to his face, he spoke once more and asked. “Do you know where you come from?”.

It was my turn to smile. I had asked that question myself before, so the answer was easy. I said “I know where I come from, I do. But I don’t care, I don’t need to go back”.

The old man put his pipe aside and coughed a bit, and then he dipped into his pocket and took out a silver coin. He gave it to me and said “We shall meet again at the place where there’s no pain. In the meantime, here’s everything I have. Keep it safe. Pass it on”

And I took the coin and continued my journey, and it’s brought me here on this fine day. So tell me, my good friend, do you know where are you going?

I have met many people in my travels, and I’ve forgotten most of them, but some of these faces have stayed with me. Some because they’re the people I walk with. Some because I have loved them. But there are a few that I remember because they have touched me in a unique way. This is the story of one such person.

I never knew her name. I don’t remember her face. I barely remember her eyes.

I was sitting at a coffee shop, minding my own business, which was none of hers, or anybody’s for that matter, when I saw her, and she saw me. She looked at me and she smiled. So I smiled She smiled again and she winked. So I winked

Then she came to me and she asked “What is your name?” I said “I’m Johan, I’m the Eternal Story Teller” And she looked at me like I was an insect from Mars. And as if she was a Goddess from Venus. And maybe the book is right.

And if the laws of nature had been in place that day, nothing should have happened. But she continued to look into my eyes and I continued to look into hers and we were interlocked, neither of us could look away. That’s when her boyfriend noticed. And he was from Jupiter.

So he came to me and he explained that her business was none of mine, and he explained it in a language that was hard to misunderstand.

So I walked outside and sat by the gutter to cry away my pain. And all of a sudden she was there, next to me, sitting right next to me and she said “I’m sorry”.

And then she kissed me. And at that precise moment I understood. I knew that she was in fact a Goddess from Venus and I might as well be an insect from Mars. And in the agony of that kiss she walked away and I never saw her again.

And today I don’t remember her face, I never knew her name, I can barely remember her blue eyes deep as pools. But I will never, no matter where I go and what I do, I will never forget the gift that she gave me. The gift of her soul. I have met many people in my travels, and I’ve forgotten most of them, but my Goddess from Venus will always stay with me, because she taught me without words, that all you need to touch another soul… is to stop minding your own damn business for just a second.

A cat spoke to me today…

A. CAT. SPOKE. TO. ME. TODAY!

I was busy doing… whatever it is I was doing when he came and inserted himself right on the center of my attention, as only a cat can do, and he said:

“Forgive me human, since I realize you are terribly busy, I’m going to try and make this as long as possible”

I looked at him and all I could blurt out was “You are talking to me”

To which he replied “Apparently, nothing escapes you today… I was simply wondering, what is it with you humans and your inability to simplify the trans-personal interactions which are complex enough to begin with, with the catastrophic result of an overwhelming feeling of loss and loneliness, wouldn’t it be far much more comfortable to transcend the limits of your own fears and create true connections among your kind?”

I looked at him and all I could blurt was “What in the world are you talking about?”

To which he replied “In the interest of not making this terribly boring for me, perhaps you should let me do more of the talking and you do more of the listening, it is not often that a cat decides to confide in a human a piece of his wisdom, so my first advice to you would be… to stay quiet.

You humans… are always looking at the wrong place. Allow me to explain: In the mornings you look for your car keys on your desk, when it is obvious that you should be looking underneath me. In the evenings you look for you underwear in your dresser drawer when it is clear that I just pissed on it over in that corner.

But beyond the mundane examples this behaviour turns chronic. You look up into a world of false hopes and dreams when you should be looking down at your feet so you don’t stumble, you look left when you cross the street and never see the pretty girl standing to your right.

But the worst case of this extremely annoying syndrome is when you look outside trying to find the very things that will define your happiness, your love, your connection with other fellow beings, and with your god, or your karma, or whatever it is you believe in. You see my dear human… you should be looking inside yourself.”

The cat proceeded to lick his paws briefly and then he continued.

“It has occurred to me, that maybe you need to take more naps. For that way, maybe, just maybe, you would be able to quiet your thoughts long enough to finally reach the place inside you where all the answers reside, and maybe, just maybe you would be able to realize that you are not a slave of the events of your life, but that those very events, are nothing but choices you have made. And when you reach that realization, you will finally be free to choose.

You will be free to choose to work, to love, to hate. And when you do, you will be looking in the right direction, so when you work, you wont be thinking of taking a break, and when you take a break, you won’t be feeling guilty you’re not working, and when you love, you will not fear the loss or the hurt.

And when you live, you will not dread over death. And when the end of your days on this planet finally comes, you will not look back on your life and say -Oh shit… that was a mess.”

And with that, the cat proceeded to flick his tail at me and walked over to the corner where my pissed on underwear still lay, and he curled up and got ready to take a nap in which he would uncover another truth that I will never know. And at the last moment I asked him.

“Do you have any other advice for me?”

“Only one other… do not meddle in the affairs of cats, for we are subtle… and will take a shit on your keyboard”

My Lord, my Liege.

I come to thee in humble request, concede me this audience my Lord, for I am the bearer of the most urgent of news. Thank you my King.

There are men at the gates, thy Highness. They are looking for answers, they seek reparation for they claim that the throne has lied and stolen from them.

My Lord, I have been thy faithful for as many long years as bones there are in my body, and wherever thou went I stayed by thy flank. I saw thy Highness in the battlefield and the fury of thy sword; in the plains of Rochelle where thy victory was resounding and resolute.

My Lord, I saw thee claim the lives of villains and scoundrels that plagued the lands and called themselves rebels and I saw thee bring promise of prosperity to the noble houses, and the prospect of a full stomach to the common folk like thy humble servant.

I bear witness to thy conquests, for thy domain has extended beyond the belief of even thy most adamant supporters… and much to the demise of thy enemies. And thy kingdom flourished my Lord, with so many to lay hand and lift towns and markets and turn grass and leaf into roads; with so much coin arriving from the trade and the sea ports thriving in riches. Thy kingdom extends many horizons and spans many lakes. My Liege, thou hast built not a kingdom, but an empire; and this, the Castle of Belcair as the center of it.

But oh my lord! There are men at the gates. And they say they don’t understand this mandate of “One Kingdom under the enforcement of our lord”. They say, my King, that they were born free men, and that their land belonged to the Hawk and the Fox, to the Oak and the cloud. They claim that thy armies came and pillaged and killed and burned… and slaved. They say they are not thy servants, nor any other’s.

These men claim that thou promised them food and water and safe passage, but instead thou took their cabbage and their goat, and gave them hammers and put them to work. They say they can’t grow tomato or carrot anymore because they come too tired from the mines. And they find their women abused and humiliated by the lords of thy noble house.

How many my Lord? Thy highness means to ask this servant how many men are at the gates of thy humble residence today? It’s all of them, my King. All the men and women and children that feel robbed of any part of their lives or their farms or their souls by our great Kingdom of Valearda.

My King, they don’t understand about divine rights, or glory, or kingship. They don’t speak the elaborate language of nobility, but rather the simple slur of peasantry. They only understand fresh air and hot meals and good ale and kind women.

Way out? I don’t think there’s a way out this time my Lord.

Thy highness gives me great honor with thy request that I risk my life to protect thee. Thou art a great man… just not a good King. For my Lord, there are men at the gates, thousands upon thousands of men, and they have come to claim thy head. And it pains me to say so my Lord… I am one of them.

The two friends sat across each other on the comfortable chairs by the fireplace, the situation was as impossible as it had been only a few hours ago, with the exception that now everything was completely different.

Ivan held a glass of very old wine, he remembered where he had obtained it, or rather, he remembered the dying hands from which he had pried it.

His outward calm was a practiced stance. Before, he would use it to hide his excitement and anticipation. This time it was masquerading his sheer terror.

Ivan knew that Jacob could smell the fear in him regardless of his composure, he also knew each and every thing passing through his friend’s mind. It was exactly what would be passing through his own brain had the events of the night prior never happened.

Ivan knew that right now Jacob was debating whether to kill him or not.

Opposite the now extinct fire, Jacob looked at Ivan with hunger on his face. “So, my old friend, what shall we do now?”

Ivan frowned in concentration, his own heartbeats were terribly distracting and yet so pleasurable, he had not felt them in a long time. Everything was new for him yet again.

“I was hoping that you would allow me to walk out of here untouched”, he finally said.

“Well, of course” Jacob answered, “you have certainly gained that right”

Jacob moved suddenly, with such a speed that Ivan never really saw the actual motion, to his eyes, Jacob was sitting on the chair in one moment and standing by the bar in the next.

Jacob seemed to have enjoyed the discovery of his speed, after all, everything was new for him as well. He opened a small cabinet in the bar and extracted a bottle from the ice. He then proceeded to pour the red liquid into a glass. The drink, Ivan knew, was blood.

“How did you do it” asked Ivan suddenly.

“Oh well, I spent many years researching your old condition, I went to far places and spoke with sacred people. The answer I kept finding everywhere was that it could not be done. That your condition was permanent and eternal. They all recommended the same thing: to finish you and end your sufferings.

I was not about to give up though. I went further than any man has ever gone. Finally, in a place of which I cannot speak, I found the root of the solution: an ancient herb that grows in darkness. I tested many preparations until I found the right mix that, once drank, could rid you of your curse.”

“But I never drank any potion” asked Ivan.

“You were not meant to”, answered Jacob.

Comprehension dawned on Ivan. “You drank it” he said slowly.

“I did.”

“So your plan all along was to let me bite you”

“That was the plan”

Ivan felt sick, the implications of what had happened were almost too complex for him to grasp.

Jacob seemed to know what was happening through his friend’s head. “Do you remember when we were kids and we used to play ‘rescue’?”

“I never forgot” answered Ivan.

“We always pretended that I was on some sort of terrible danger, like hanging off a cliff, and you had to risk your own life to come and save me… And by the end you always succeeded”

Ivan smiled slightly, “I don’t think that either of us wanted you to die, even if it was just a game”

“The point is, you always saved me, that was the memory I had every time I remembered those years. In my heart, I felt that I owed you as much as my life. So, for once, I risked mine to save yours.”

“But you didn’t risk your life, you gave it up. I expect you knew full well what would happen to you.”

“Yes, I expected to die. I saw no other way to do it. I guess I hadn’t considered all the possibilities”. Jacob smiled malevolently as he walked slowly back to his armchair. “I would have never guessed that you would choose not to kill me.” he finished.

“You are my old friend” said Ivan. “There was no way I could ever do such thing to you”

“And I’m glad!” said Jacob, “by sowing me your mercy you have given me a great gift”

“I don’t see it that way anymore”

“Naturally, you don’t”

“But I do remember what it was like. If you had asked me yesterday whether I wanted my humanity back I would have said…”

“not for all eternity” interrupted Jacob.

Ivan nodded.

“What do you think now?” asked Jacob with true curiosity. “would you like your immortality back?”

“I’m afraid not” answered Ivan calmly. “I trust you remember as well what would you have answered yesterday.”

“ah, yes”, sighed Jacob, “yesterday I was like a child that has never opened his eyes, like an ignorant insect that goes through life following the motions and the rules and the expectations of all others but myself. I am free my friend, thanks to you I am no longer a slave. Once again, you have saved me.”

“No my brother” said Ivan, as his eyes showed small tears forming, “it is you who has saved me. You don’t feel it yet, but one day you’ll miss your heart beating, you will yearn for your own warm blood to flow through your veins, you will wonder what has become of your soul.”

“small things compared with this freedom” answered Jacob dismissively. “What about you, one day you’ll whither and die. Does that not concern you?”

“I’ll die happy knowing my soul has been saved”

“You would not think this way if you hadn’t changed” sentenced Jacob through gritted teeth.

“Neither would you” answered Ivan.

Jacob thought about this for a moment, and then a smile came to his face once again.

“I presume” he said, looking around, “that you will not be requiring this mansion anymore”

Ivan had been expecting this, and he had his answer ready. “You can have it. A few years ago I murdered the owners and moved in with a set of servants and slaves that died over time. I’ll have to carry their deaths with me to my own grave.”

Jacob laughed, he truly had considered that a joke. “Well, I might have to get me a few servants of my own”

“I’m sure you will”, said Ivan, with a tone of finality. “and now, If you will excuse me my dear friend, it is time for me to go”.

“But of course” answered Jacob in his most official voice. “I have only one request for you”.

“Anything!”

“Don’t you ever try to come and rescue me again, our business is finished here and now.”

Ivan looked at Jacob hard and long. “Agreed”, he finally said, and then he added. “Jacob, I have one request for you as well.”

“You only need to ask”.

“If you and I ever come face to face again, and you must taste of my blood, as I’m sure you will, do not make the mistake I made. Do not show mercy, just kill me.”

Jacob looked dumbfounded for a moment but recovered quickly, and with a quick nod he agreed.

And with this, Ivan turned around and walked out of the room and down the stairs that would take him away from this dreadful place. His heart ached as the weight of all his crimes started to fill him and the faces of those sacrificed for his pleasure came back to haunt him. Including the face of his best friend in the whole world.

As he walked down the path that lead to the road he felt the blood coursing through his veins, and the pain in the side of his stomach, and the air rushing in and out of his lungs. He was alive once again. He found himself humming a dislocated tune.

He was happy for the first time in a long time. His friend had risked his life and had rescued him. There was hope for his soul, after all.