Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The Becoming

The Dying

I felt naked. When I arrived at the command center they immediately stripped me of my weapons and body armor, putting me in commoner’s clothes. They cleaned me of the dirt and dried blood plastered to my face and arms from the massacre of our newest adversary. I had just released my final arrow piercing the heart of the final foe when the protectors arrived to give me the news. I had been chosen. Because I was unconquerable in combat and the most lethal enemies fell at my arrows, our Commander-in-Chief took notice of me and selected me for The Becoming. I didn’t speak a word as shock besieged me. It had been so long since a fighter was chosen, and the Commander chose me. There were many fighters but only a few were chosen and, of the few chosen, hardly any made it. My heart beat harder at this news than it did when ominous armies rose against me. It never calmed. The protectors silently walked me to a door, opened it, gestured for me to enter and closed the door behind me. I felt the weight of solemn submission. The room was heavy with meaningful purpose and the power of choice. It was empty other than a chair with a small table connected holding an almost empty glass and a small piece of paper. I walked to the paper and picked it up.

Drink. Do not leave this room until the door is opened to you. If you do, you will not become.

I stared at the glass. It was the Commander’s; clear with a gold rim. My breath became shallow, and I felt faint. I was to drink from his cup. I sat in the chair and took long deep breaths. The instructions were so simple, but I was not so naive. Almost no one made it. The door was more attractive than I would like to admit. I was astonished at my fear. This was the greatest honor there was, but I was ready to run. I knew the prize, but what was the price? I would become untouchable, unable to be infected and deadly to every opponent. Thrill beat in one heartbeat, terror in the next.

Thrill. Terror.

Thrill. Terror.

I picked up the glass only to immediately put it back down. I pulled it close and instantly pushed it away. I shook my head ashamed of my weakness. I rubbed my hands together trying to conjure courage. I wasn’t sure why this never occurred to me. Even as a leading fighter, I never considered that this process was for me. At that moment, however, staring at the glass, I had to consider the fact that the Commander had chosen me.  That was more important than all of my ignorance. The truth. The Commander-in-Chief chose me to become. Finally, knowing at my core I could never disappoint him, I picked up the glass and drank everything inside quickly. The instant I set the glass back down my heart began to burn fiercely. It felt like it would rupture inside me. I opened my mouth to yell for help, but my breath caught in my throat as the pain strongly intensified. I pushed my hand into my chest as hard as I could as if to pull my heart out, anything to stop the pain. I looked for the door, but my vision was shockingly blurred. I was blind. Disoriented, I hit the floor. I pushed against the floor in failing attempts to lift myself. All of my strength was ripped from me in a moment’s time. The burning in my heart spread throughout my body, and I began to convulse. Every cell felt the poison. My organs cringed inside of me, and my nerves rushed the news to my brain.  More dominant than the physical pain was the ache of appalling betrayal. This was a set up. The Commander’s disloyalty worked like a dagger on my soul, ripping me apart one realization after another. My mind ran the scenario over as I coughed and panted with my head pinned to the floor, fully defeated. He made me feel unique, separate from the others. He chose me in order to lead me like a lamb to the slaughter to my death. He played me like a game, and I fell for every move. How foolish I was to believe that he would make me powerful beyond measure, untouchable and deadly to the enemy! No, the truth, he would poison me with the enemy’s venom! Anger rushed through my veins swelling my pain. Tears spilled from my eyes and wet the floor beneath me as I wondered why he would do this. I wailed. With everything left in me, I wailed. Bitter fury from a fallen fighter broke through the room, and I didn’t relent. My body rattled as my voice shook through my skin and bones.

Finally, I fell silent. There was nothing left. My vision progressively turned black, my breathing slowed and I gave way to death.

The Awakening

My gasp for air in the empty room pulled my head from the floor, awakening me from deadly slumber. I was alive. I could see. My eyes shot to the door. It was closed. My body was drained of strength, but I mustered up enough to crawl to the door. I used the wall to help me get up. My legs shook like a baby’s who was learning to walk. My hand touched the handle. I was about to turn it and open the door when I saw my hand. I jumped back, horrified. It was remarkably pale and bruised. I staggered backward in surprise when I realized my arm mirrored my hand. My hands at once moved to my face. Dread overtook me. I moved quickly to the glass that once held my poison. I gazed deeply into it waiting to see my reflection. My mouth slowly fell open as I met my eyes. They were hollow. Black. My cheeks were sunk in, my lips bruised. My hair was thin and faded. I looked terminally sick and distorted. In horror, I pushed my back up against the wall. What had the Commander done to me? I was afraid, so afraid. My weapons were gone. My power was gone. I was confused, so confused. I looked dead, but I was alive. I was devastated, so devastated. My leader didn’t want me anymore. My skill in combat was regarded as useless. I had been deceived, tricked by those I trusted the most. My protectors imprisoned me to die. As I trembled with my back against the wall, the note on the small table fell to the floor. I remembered what it said, but I picked it up anyway. I was dumbfounded. One word was different.

Stay. Do not leave this room until the door is opened to you. If you do, you will not become.

Hope. A small glimmer of hope struck my heart. Maybe I was supposed to be here. Maybe I wasn’t going to die. Fear. A mighty rush of fear struck my heart. Maybe the “Stay” was placed there to keep me dying. I shifted my eyes back to the door. I was mystified by the sharpness of my vision. Every etch in the door was crisp and defined. I could see every detail in the nails in the knob. As I marveled, dismay plagued me. My heart began burning again.

“No, no,” I cried.

My voice. So weak. I despised it. My body began to shake as the heat rushed through my veins. I didn’t try to move to the door. I knew it was too late. I curled into a ball on the floor as my organs began to cringe and my bones began to ache. I didn’t think I had enough to strength to do it again. Surely I would die this time. The bitterness birthed in betrayal intensified, and I shook with anger. I gave my life to the assignment of the Commander. I fought with everything I had without question. Shuddering on the floor in immense pain, I found great irony in a common quote of the Commander. “Loyalty pays a price.” Indeed, it does. I waited for my vision to turn black and hoped my eyes wouldn’t open again. My body shook uncontrollably until it slowly calmed. My breathing slowed. My crying stopped. I saw black, and I welcomed it.
The black didn’t last as long as the last time, but it also wasn’t the last time it visited. The pain came, the black overtook and I became more hollow and frail every time. I died over and over and over again. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I was sure that my days had turned into months. I stopped looking at myself in the glass. It was sickening. It wasn't me anymore. In the few moments between agonizing pain, I would watch the door. I couldn’t get myself to leave. It was too easy. It was surrender. And, I was ashamed to admit it, but there was still a very small part of me that believed the Commander had truly chosen me.

Ha.

Finally, the time came where my deepest fears became a reality. There was no becoming, only betrayal. The pain was so bad this time that I passed out and woke up multiple times while it shook me. I had never been surer that my existence was coming to a harsh, bitter end. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t leave. I didn’t take the easy way out. I stayed loyal to the Commander unto death, which was my task from the beginning. I lay on my back and didn’t fight the burning. I let the fire consume me. I didn’t cry. I chose peace and stayed quiet. Instead of waiting for the black, I closed my eyes.  I chose this. I chose to stay. It was not what I could have ever expected or desired, but it was my assignment, and I was going to complete it. I was a fighter to the end. I fought myself when I considered abandoning my mission, and I won. As I lay dying, I smiled. I did remain undefeated after all.

The Becoming

My eyes opened, but there was no panicked gasp for air as usual. Air moved through my lungs with gentle ease. I didn’t move an inch. If I did, the ache in my bones may return. The heat may capture my heart again. The fever may strike afresh. I watched the ceiling, breathing. The details were even sharper, more defined than before. I moved my hand from the floor to trace the carvings. My back shot up off of the ground. My hand was no longer pale and bruised. Astonished, I examined both hands and arms. They were warm, golden, full of life, full of strength. They glimmered with beauty. I slid my body across the floor and grabbed the glass, waiting with hopeful expectation for my reflection.

“Wow,” left my lips as I saw me.

I was warm, golden, full of life, full of strength. I glimmered with beauty. I was no longer hollow and distorted. My eyes swam with color and power.  My hair was deep and full. It flowed by my face with effortless grace, and my face was remarkably defined and my countenance, daring. I didn’t look like me anymore, but I couldn’t quite remember what the old me looked like. I only remembered what that hollow breathing corpse looked like, and I was gratefully overwhelmed that it was gone.

“Oh my God…”

My eyes darted to the door. It was cracked open.

“I made it.”

Tears, much different from the ones I had come to know, welled in my eyes as I stood and walked slowly to the door. I opened it, and the light I was living without flooded me. The room was empty other than my weapons and armor hanging on the wall. It all looked like my gear, but there was something distinctively different about it.  How glorious it was! I never saw anyone in the combat zone with anything like it. A small note rested on the wall near it.

I have drawn death out of you. Now you can never die. You are untouchable, unable to be infected and deadly to all of our opponents. I made no mistake in choosing you for The Becoming. You have become.

- Commander




@copyright Jade De Kelaita