Evanescent - Part 2 Now Up!

[Casey Warburton]

Evanescent

"Beautiful things happen in life when you distance yourself from all the negative things"

This is something that I started as a school project ages ago as a short story. As you can see, it's now not so short. I've changed it to be completely fiction, as I don't wish to offend anyone and my history is not the best.
The story follows a soldier, Elliot, as he abandons the military in combat and tries to return to his family.
Contents
Part 1 - Page 1
Part 2 - Page 1

Evanescent - Part 1 - Ice

His feet move across the ground automatically, like his heart and his lungs, he doesn't tell them to move, it just happens, one foot after the other. The half-frozen leaves crunch under his feet, like a person eating something crispy, it echoes through the silent landscape. If he was being followed, he would make an easy target. He's beyond the point of caring, live or die, he favours neither. The trees are bare, only slight snow piles formed from the flurry earlier. He continues walking in a mostly straight line, away from the violence, away from the devastation, away from the death. But he has not truly escaped, no. The landscape imprisons him, the ground is damp and slush, half mud, half snow. Every few metres, he still comes across the odd bullet shell, glinting slightly in the drab light, a bitter reminder of everything he is trying to forget. A reminder, of everything he is. A killer, a murderer. A demon, even.
He wasn't always like this. Once, his ice blue eyes shone with laughter, reflections of his wife and his baby daughter shining in them. Then the war - always, it is the war. It changed him. It started in a distant country, and for him and his family, it seemed it would be okay, that it would not affect them. Then it exploded, like a bushfire coming towards you, first you smell the smoke and think it's far away. Then the neighbours start to leave, and finally it's crashing down everything you know. As was what happened to him. The army started recruiting, and he needed the money, he wanted the two loves of his lives to be comfortable, to be safe, to have everything possible. So he left, with a final hug and kiss to both, and a promise to be back as soon as he could, that he'd be fine, and not to worry. As he walked away, he took a final look back. His wife had tears in her eyes. His daughter, only 3 months old, didn't understand. But she could feel her mother's sadness, and the sudden loss of her father unlike anything before, and she cried for that loss and she cried for the sadness and the unfairness of it all. Training that would usually take months, years, was over in six weeks, so was the need for reinforcements that the time to properly train each soldier had to be comprimised to keep the enemy at bay. In a whirlwind he flew overseas, hours, days, he doesn't know how long, the whole time he stared at the only possesion he was allowed to keep, a deep brown leather wallet his wife had bought for him, with his army ID card and the three photos, one of his daughter smiling in his arms, both of their eyes the brilliant ice blue that was so striking. The next, all three of them, the look in his eyes were happy, they smiled, not knowing he would be leaving them 2 weeks and 4 days later. His wife's eyes were the soft brown he loved, full of kindness and love. Then, his daughter. So alike both of them, and yet still her own person. His eyes, her dimples. The light brown hair, unlike his wife's darker brown or his black. The last picture was of his wife and his daughter, both of them looking into him with such joy he wanted to cry. From underneath the final photos he pulled out the letter in his wife's elegant scrawl and read it for the first time after she handed it to him and told him to read it on the plane and not before.

My dearest Elliot,
Tomorrow is the day I have been dreading since you signed up for the military. It is selfish of me to say, but I wish with all my heart I could stop you from going away, so you could stay with Elyse and I. However, I know you will go no matter how I wish you wouldn't and I understand why you are going. I love you, Elliot, and Elyse does as well, as much as I feel your love for the both of us. You are strong, and you are brave. You will return, I can feel it. In the hardest of times, read this letter, Elliot, and remember that the love we have for you will lead you to where you belong with us. We are both so proud of you, you inspire me so. Take care, my Elliot, and I will take care of myself and young Elyse.
To the moon and back, I am yours.
- Maria

His final possesion was his wedding band, which hung from a chain on his neck to keep it safe, with his anniversary engraved on the inside. Absentmindedly, he reached for it and held it within his fingers, before gently tucking it into his shirt out of sight and putting the wallet away, craning his neck to see out of the window and looking at the world below him, where the little house surrounded by pasture sat on the edge of the coastline and inside was a crying young woman and her solemn daughter.
That was 5 months ago, and since then he's been in too many battles to count, been the reason someone's life has been taken too many times. He wrote two letters to Maria in that time, and she'd sent one in reply. Mail was slow, everything had to be checked for threats and deliveries were hard, as legions moved suddenly with no notice and if something ever made it to its home soil, it was often lost in thousands of other letters. Every day his frustration with the system grew a little more, one day it only seemed to be a seedling and the next it was fully grown. On December the fourth, the leader of his army unit led them into the fiercest battle they had seen. Like an invincible force they met the opposition, and endured a seemingly endless battle. Helpless to them, he saw some of the men he'd become the closest to die right in front of him, all he could do was get away, away from the fighting. Numbers on both sides were dwindling, this was a fight to the death. Neither side would surrender to the other, to stay was to die, to run was to chance another day at life. And run he did. After two days, he was weak. But still he went on, he had to go on. An old battle wound had been reopened when he fell down a steep hill he hadn't even seen and blood still seeped through his tattered army clothes.
He hesitated for half a second. Something about the air was different, where it had once been hostile and lifeless, he felt a warmth, like sitting by the fire after being outside in snow. Even the lighting was different here, it was welcoming, lighter, inviting him in. The wind that once whistled past him now pushed him forward, like it was urging him to keep going.
The horse had already seen him, and the animal was watching him calmly from under a tree by the frozen over lake. For moments they studied each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Elliot let out a soft whistle to the horse, who perked his ears up at the sound, before moving a single hoof towards him. Elliot moved forwards slowly, gently, forgetting about his weariness in the new excitement. The horse moved the final steps forward, closing the gap between them and holding his head up proudly.
"Hey there buddy," Elliot whispered to him, "Where have you come from?" he asked, as though he expected the horse to respond. He reached his hand out and held it slightly below the horse's nose, inviting him to investigate it. The horse readily took this, taking in the smell of the human, his nostrils breathing warm air onto his cold hand. Elliot moved the hand and scratched the horse's muzzle, taking a closer inspection of the horse.
He was nearing the 17 hands mark, with slender yet sturdy legs like that of a thoroughbred's and the body of a baroque type, his refined head suggested Arabian blood. His coat was a dazzling rose-grey, his flanks were a faded chestnut and his belly had light grey dappling. His legs were a dark grey fading to a lighter colour as they went higher. His mane and tail were a silvery grey with a few chestnut stands. A faint white jagged blaze ran down his face like a sword. The stallion looked well cared for, his coat had the shine of a horse that's been groomed properly and his mane and tail were neat. But he also had the air of a horse that was independent, with a look in his eyes that showed spirit.
Elliot rubbed the horse's head with one hand and with the other ran it through his mane, whispering calming words all the time to the stallion. They stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the horse spreading through Elliot and giving him hope. Eventually, the horse lowered himself to the ground, and Elliot followed him, sleeping for the first time since he abandoned the battle, leaning his head on the horse's shoulder, the stallion resting his head in Elliot's lap like a dog. He felt the comfort of the horse, and maybe, just maybe, he was not alone.

Comments make me want to write more (:

Oh wow, I didn't realise it was so long XD

[Jade Renniw]

this is really good, continue

[Casey Warburton]

Nov 9, 2012 8:30:42 GMT -5 Jade Renniw said:

this is really good, continue

Thank you! Hmm, if I get through a few things tomorrow, I can write the next part tomorrow night. But definitely Sunday if not tomorrow (:

[Casey Warburton]

Evanescent - Part Two - Whisper

"We should believe not in what we see, but what we dream"

Elliot woke with a start, his cheek cold from where it had been resting on the frozen surface. He looked around, feeling like he'd just woken up from a coma. Around him, all was quiet. Nothing stirred, nothing interrupted the silence. The stallion was gone. Had he even been there? Was he just a figment of Elliot's imagination? Had it all been the creation of an over tired mind? Did the stallion exist in his head alone? The sun was just rising into the sky, the clouds touched pink by the sun's rays. It had snowed overnight, the ground was all covered in a mildly deep blanket of snow. Then Elliot noticed the hoofprints that led away from him, fading to nothing a hundred metres or so away. So, the stallion was real. Elliot stood up, gasping slightly as a pain shot through his arm from the wound. Wincing, he pulled back the fabric to expose the newly reopened gash, the only consolation he felt was that at least it had stopped bleeding. He gently covered it over again, there wasn't much that could be done about it. The slight hunger he'd felt yesterday was more intense, but still bearable. He took a tentative step forward, then another and another, already starting the new day of walking.
It was around midday, the sun was directly above him, half-hidden by dark cloud formations. Elliot was in an open meadow, covered in snow. It was almost beautiful. The dark bark of the trees contrasted with the white of the ground wonderfully. Elliot smiled. Yes, this was beautiful, in its own way. The bare trees were not symbolisms of death at all, but symbolisms of regrowth. Elliot stopped and sat down on a slight slope so he could see the majority of the meadow and rested, falling into a light sleep.
Barking in the distance woke him. He looked around for the source, not seeing anything but knowing the dog was close. Whether it sounded like a hound on the scent of something or he was just paranoid, he could not tell. Even if he could run, where to? For a fair distance all around him was white, and he was in the dark khaki of the military. It could be a trap, he could run straight into the enemy's arms and make it easy for them. He weighed up the possibilities of running and escaping or running and being caught, and ultimately, killed or tortured for information. The dog made the decision for him. A young beagle came running up to him, sniffing his boots and yapping and baying triumphantly. It wasn't very old, maybe a little less than a year. He had the excitement of a pup, licking and pawing victoriously at his "catch".
"Jake! Jake, you foolish animal! Get 'ere, Jake! Come!" a man shouted to the dog, a hunting gun in one hand and a long lead in the other. The dog showed no acknowledgement to the man, instead greatly interested in Elliot's boots. The man limped unsteadily towards them, a young boy of around 10 coming to help him.
"Stupid dog. Ye'll sniff out everythin' but game, eh?" The man scolded, giving the dog a reprimanding tap on the nose, before clipping the leash onto his collar and straightening up and inspecting the man before him.
"Yer a long way from home, boy," the man stated and Elliot shifted uncomfortably.
"Are you a soldier?" the boy asked, a look of amazement on his face.
"Damn right, 'e's a soldier, Tom, ain't fer us, aren't yer?" the man said, not needing an answer from Elliot to confirm his suggestion.
"No, I guess not. I'll just leave, shall I?" Elliot said, starting to walk away. The old man grabbed his arm, holding him back.
"Ye know what 'appens to soldiers found out 'ere, boy?" the man said, making a gesture to the gun. Elliot stared into his eyes, and the old man did the same. Finally, the old man shook his head and turned to Tom.
"Take 'im to the house, Tom, 'n' don' let enyone see yer, a'right? Tell yer mam 'e'll stay in the barn. 'E looks like 'e needs a good feed," the old man said at last, "Take this daft thing back to0. I'll find me own game," he said, handing over Jake's leash. Elliot gave the man a grateful look before the boy grabbed his wrist and led him excitedly away.
"I've never met a soldier before. What's it like, being in the army? Say, do you have a gun? My granddad, the one you just met, has a heap of 'em. But he won't let me use any, he says it's too dangerous. Can I have a go at yours? I'll be extra careful, I promise. I'm Tom, by the way," Tom said cheerily, the dog and man in tow.
"I'm Elliot, it's nice to meet you. Your granddad is right, it is dangerous, I've undergone training for using weapons and I bet your granddad has a lot of experience with hunting. I've misplaced my gun, I'm afraid," Elliot said as they entered a denser forest patch.
"I bet it'd be so cool, getting paid to shoot people. Is that why you signed up?" the boy said, still with the amazed tone of voice.
"No, it's not why I signed up. I signed up because they badly needed numbers, and I'm fit and young. Someone's gotta do it," Elliot said, repeating what had been said a thousand times at training. Someone's gotta do it.
"Well, it looks cool anyway," Tom repeated and they walked in silence for the rest of the way, the dog trailing a metre or so behind sniffing vegetation, the leash held loosely in Tom's hand.
The house was small, a little run down, but it looked friendly enough. As they neared the property, Tom handed Jake's lead to Elliot and ran ahead to alert his mother to their visitor.
She was only in her 30's, Elliot guessed, but her eyes were sharp and alert, her face showing a few wrinkles and a few grey hairs stuck out in her fairly short medium brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She came out to meet him, as he stood awkwardly at the front gate.
"Ma'am," he said, bowing his head in salute to her. She said nothing, watching.
"You can stay in the loft in the barn. Tom will show you and bring your meals to you," she said, discontempt in her voice, returning back to the house before he could thank her.
"You stay in here. Mam doesn't do well with strangers in the house. Says it's invasion of privacy, you see," Tom said as they walked up the rickety stairs of the barn to the hay loft. A wall partion sectioned off a small part of the loft into a makeshift guest room, a single bed roughly made in the corner and a table and chair in the centre, along with a small bedside table with a few little drawers next to the bed. A single window was the only source of light apart from the flickering bulb overhead.
"It used to be the old groom's place, when this was a real farm. My dad used to run it, afore he died. Mam doesn't want to continue it now, she never liked the horses or the country. But she loved Da, and moved to be with him. 'Til he died, of course. Now we can't afford a place in town," Tom said reminiscently.
"It's a vicious circle," Elliot said with a knowing smile, "It'll do, it's more than most would offer a man like me. Thank your grandfather, and your mother, for me," Elliot said, as the woman's voice called for Tom. Tom nodded readily, and quickly went to meet his mother.
Elliot looked around the little room, before taking his wallet out of his pocket and studying the fine leather. He sat down at the table, pulling out the letter he'd received from home not so long ago.
Dear Elliot,
They say this war could go much longer than originally thought and the possibility of you being home for Christmas is almost zero. Elyse is growing so much, and she hasn't forgotten you. I often see her searching for you, and I know it is you she is searching for, because I too sometimes wear the same look in my eye.
I was glad to receive your letter all the same, to know you are well is second only to you being with us. Do not let the darkness and the violence get to you, Elliot. Show the compassion of a kind man, but the strength of a man who's seen many battles.
With each day my yearning to see you again grows, and the harder it gets to live without you.
To the moon and back,
Maria and Elyse
He ran his thumb gently over the words, smiling fondly at his wife's phrase - to the moon and back. He looked up, out the window, to see the old man coming back from an apparently unsuccessful hunt. He placed the wallet on the bedside table and slid the neck chain off his head, touching the wedding band once before placing it next to the wallet and wearily stretching out onto the bed.
The stallion galloped over the top of the hill, past the barren tree, the first snowflakes hitting his coat and melting away quickly. He tossed his head up freely, his tail a flag displayed with pride behind him. He bucked, like a young colt, and neighed happily. He slid to a stop, pawing once, before sending out a soft neigh like a whisper.
Elliot frowned at the memory of the dream the next morning. Had the stallion sent for the dog, to find him and lead him to safety? Who was the stallion? Was it a dream? Was it reality? He stood up groggily and walked over to the window, where a new blanket of snow lay on the ground.
"Who are you?" he whispered to nothing in particular.

If you're interested in the next part, leave a comment below!