Alone…?
'What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear.' - Dag Hammarskjold
"Thank you." I mutter to the frontiersman, while clutching my side in pain. So many thoughts and questions rushed through my mind - as well as aching emotions. My people…were gone. They had left their home, abandoned the place in which they were all born, and for what? Peace? Freedom? No. None of these were the answer. They ran away. They feared to stand and fight.
I received no word from them about their departure. They'd clearly planned it, as only the huts remained. Everything else - the food, weapons, clothes - was gone. Soon, there will be no trace of them ever being here…of me being here. The colonists will waltz in and claim this land for themselves. Land does not belong to any one man; to any one people!
The anger I feel is…indescribable. I remember the faces I had come to care about. All my friends, their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. They…left me behind.
As I walk, slowly, to where mine and my mothers home used to be, I see the still healing earth before me, and just beyond that a mound. Atop the mound…were flowers. The land had, somewhat, been venerated, as is the way of my people, in memory of my mother and those that had passed after her.
Coming to a halt, the frustration in my gut seemed to subside, and was instead replaced by something worse. I felt…alone. As though my people had not only abandoned their homes, but me, also. I stare to the flower topped dirt and, suddenly my body feels heavy. At a painstaking pace, I struggle up the raised ground, and once I reach the peak, fall to my knees. It wasn't just a feeling of loneliness…I was alone. For all of my sacrifices, all of my pain and dedication, I've been met with only questions and nothing more.
It feels as though rain is starting to fall as a damp sensation crawls down my cheek. I look up, only to see clear skies. Then…how? Lifting my hand to my face, I feel that the liquid is warm. This wasn't rain…but my tears.
All of my feelings…my emotions, my struggles, my sacrifices…it had all gotten to me. Achilles was gone. My father, too. Even my people had vanished. And my mother…
"…Mother…" I murmur, gazing down to the colourful buds. Raising both of my hands into view, it's as though I can see all the mistakes I've made resting right there in my palms. I was…a failure. I had failed my people; everything I stood for…
I was a mistake, even to begin with! A bastard son! A selfish man dedicated solely to his own ideals! I had no one to tell me they cared, because no one did. I had no one to comfort me, because they were all either dead or gone! I had…no one…
"…Ratonhnhake':ton…" A distant voice called, whispering with the wind. "Ratonhnhake':ton…my son…"
Searching all around me, I see no one, but the voice is there; it's words as clear as a gentle stream. "…Mother?"
"My son…didn't I tell you? You may think yourself alone, but I will be at your side…always…and forever…" Her voice was warm and caring. This was the voice of the only one who had loved me from the moment I had opened my eyes, the second I took a breath.
"Mother…" I whimper, before grasping the soil of the earth, clenching my eyes hard as the tears started the flow. Everything I had been through…I had nearly forgotten those words…those last words that carried me through the dark…the last words of my mother. "Please…help me…I don't want to be alone…"
It felt as though a tender hand had placed itself upon my cheek. I lifted my head…I had to. And though I saw no one, I knew that my mother was there with me.
"I love you." She finishes, before it feels as though her presence had faded away. I was, once again, alone.
…No. I was not alone. Whether what had happened was my imagining, the spirits or anything else did not matter. My mother was there, beside me, just like she had promised.
Slowly standing, my lips form a small smile. "Thank you."
And with that, I made my way home to Davenport. Days turned to months, and before long, I had realized something rather comforting: This small community that had come together, through the mere coincidence that I had either aided or simply met them, was a family. They worked hard for eachother; cared for eachother. And, in their own ways, loved eachother. Even Terry and Godfrey.
Yes. I know now that I am not alone, and never will be, for even when all my friends retreat to their beds and sleep soundly, leaving me to my thoughts inside the old manor, I have those that have passed living on in me. Achilles. Kanen'to':kon. My mother. And even my father. Their souls and spirits will guide me, and always be by my side.
I am no longer an outcast. I am no longer…alone.
'Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.' - Dag Hammarskjold
AUTHOR:
This was a small story written purely because of the sadness I felt for Connor when he returned to his village after the story's main events. For all he had given in the name of freedom and liberty, he seemed to gain so little. But when I returned to the Homestead, I was met with 'Hello's and 'Good morning's. This made me feel that, though he had no mentors or major figures in his life any longer, the friends he had made, the community he had helped to form, would be enough to keep him going. And who knows: Connor may have found someone to settle down with after a while? If Ubisoft doesn't give us a happier conclusion to Connor's story themselves, you can be damn sure I'll end up writing it!
Thank you for reading, and PLEASE REVIEW! It helps a lot.
(P.S. My name is also Connor. Radical, right?)