The Exiles

Sweat covered my whole face as I sat down slowly on my straw-made bed. Taking long deep breaths, I calmed myself down. Damn that dream. Every night, it's the same dream that haunted me. I ran my fingers on my aching forehead and cussed. That dream… ever since I was just a kid, I keep having it. Fire, blood, screams… it all comprises my nightmare. And the taunting words of an unknown man always ended it but I never understood what he was saying anyway.

I sighed and wiped the perspiration off my face. I got out of my bed and sauntered towards the window. The moon shone brightly outside, causing the tall tress of the forest to cast eerie shadows inside my room. I can't sleep now, not after I just had my nightmare. The nightmare… God! I want to forget it… I want it to make it go away.

I rested my elbows on the sill and buried my fingers in my hair. There was this woman, in my dreams… she was always the start of my dream. I opened my eyes and visualized her. In my dream, her face was dim but what I would always see is her smile. Then after that, the nightmare begins…

I groaned and stepped away from the window. I leisurely made my way outside and gazed at the four small huts. I hid my hands in my pockets and sighed. I can't believe this. The known group that rebels the Duke is now dead.

I stopped thinking when I heard the sound of a lyre echoing in the darkness. I smiled a little and followed the sound.

"Yamato? Cannot sleep my lad?"

I turned my face to the right and smiled. Underneath the tree sits an old woman, known as Gica. She's probably around seventy years old, but she's still alive. Her sober brown eyes show serenity, calmness. I admire her strength and wisdom in everything.

"Gica." I strode towards her.

Gica laughed and stopped playing her lyre. "Come here my boy. It's those dreams again, am I right?" she asked, tapping the ground beside her. I sat down beside her and nodded my head in reply.

"I don't get it…" I started, "I just don't get the meaning of it."

"The same dream? Nothing added?"

I shook my head. "It's all the same. The mysterious girl whispering something at me, then I heard yells and pleas for mercy, blood surrounded me. Then this man approaches me and says something I don't understand. It's getting realistic."

Gica placed her lyre on the ground. "What do you know," she said in a strange accent, "maybe it's meaning is either good or bad. Fate holds the answer."

We sat there in silence. I listened to the howling of the coyote and the music made by the wind. My mind went blank. Point blank. I don't know what to think about anymore.

"Yamato, you're troubled. I can feel it."

I clenched my fist, but I didn't look at Gica. She knows me, in and out. It's no use trying to hide anything from her. She knows what I feel. "I want to make revenge, Gica," I breathed out, "After nine years, I still can't forget the massacre of our family… The duke is heartless…"

Gica got her lyre again and played another heavenly tune. I calmed down upon hearing it. "You know what I always say, whatever you do…whatever choices you make, it's either good or bad or both." She said. "You make the choices, not other people. You know what can cause good and what can cause bad."

She stopped playing and stood up without any help from me. "Ayayyay… it's been so long since you came here." Gica said, patting my head like that of a child. She turned her head to me again. "Use your heart and your mind." She said lastly then walked back to her cottage.

I stayed put in my place and pondered on what Gica said. Good or bad? Would rebelling the Duke cause good in our band? Why do I want to revenge the Duke anyway?

It's been nine years since my father died. He was the leader of our pack. My parents met here in Toulouse, located at the southern part of France. Our group, the Exiles, wasn't formed then yet. My mother works in a bar as a decent waitress. My father saved her from a gang who wants to take advantage of her. She bore me and my brother Takeru.

Then, the king died mysteriously. Since he doesn't have a wife or any successors, the Duke placed himself on the throne. Since then, everything was in chaos.

The Duke ordered that every day, everyone should pay the imposed tax. Those who can't pay within two hours will be exiled. Unfortunately, there were many families who couldn't pay the high tax, and my family was included there. The tax wasn't for the people of Toulouse, they were food for the Duke. The money went straight to his pockets, at least that was what my father said. Everyday, my father saw how the low class people suffered from hunger. When he can't take the sight no more, my father approached the Duke about it. He said that the tax is too high and it's against the people's rights. The Duke didn't like what my father was saying and ordered that we should never step on the grounds of Toulouse or we would be executed. Because of these, the Exiles were born.

My father trained the men, the women sew clothes and make tasty bread to be sold in the cities. We stayed hidden, until when I reached ten, the Exiles decided to put the Duke out of the throne.

The Duke wasn't surprised at all with what we, the Exiles, were doing. He was prepared. Before my father could even start to ignite a revolution, the Duke ordered skilled men to assassinate the Exiles. Us children and the others were kept under ground where we stayed hidden for a week. When we got out, everyone was dead. The women were raped then killed. They were piled on top of one another. The men lay dead on the ground, covered with their own blood. Gica and fourteen children were the only ones who survived. Me and my brother Takeru, my best bud Taichi and his sister Hikari, the three sisters Daphne, Niobe and their baby sister Maia, my pal Syd, Kiyo, Iori, Daisuke, Izzy, Joe, Mimi and Wise Gica. We are the fifteen people that survived, the only people existing among the Exiles. Gica taught the girls to weave clothes and sell flowers. Us boys go to the city. We're paid to carry boxes and push carts.

At the present time, those who couldn't pay the tax are placed in the dungeon to rot by order of the Duke.

For nine years, I was full of angst and hatred. I wanted to kill the Duke with my own hands. The Exiles might be dead, but it'll be reborn again. I will finish what my father started. I will put the Duke out of the throne.

But what could a couple of nineteen-year-olds do to a powerful Duke?