Repercussions of Fate
Prologue
They say war, war never changes. Time and time again throughout history, has mankind thrown itself into senseless and ceaseless conflicts and debacles over practically every subject one can name. Religion, land and power are all particularly relevant. Though perhaps the most paradoxical and insurmountable facade secreting conflict is mans insatiable lust for control.
The instance that sparks the most relevancy in this case is our desire to control the lives and minds of our fellow-man. The purposes of which, none dare to guess and all frown upon, yet, all, deep down, hide under a facade of proper human moralities and stylized freedom as an excuse to hide their own lust for the very abstract possession that shapes the very fabric of the universe, one way or another.
Realistically, control plays a part in everything we do, whether we choose to accept it or not. For example, when we walk, we are always on the precipice of falling over and it is our system of balance controlling this, perhaps better explained as an auto executable part of our mind and body fused together controlling our every movement, alerting us to when we are on the verge of toppling over and if and when we are, another form of control snaps into action, thus halting this.
Even how we eat and gain sustenance is monitored by an aspect of control, from our larynx closing over when we swallow in order to prevent bodily harm, to our blood seeming to know just how much oxygen and nutrients to take to every part of our body in order to maintain the appearance of could also surmise that the hormones and chemicals in our make up that control our emotions and help maintain a semblance of balance in our lives sometimes give way to that which cannot be defined as, "normal," cannot be defined as, "controlled," or even remotely, "human."
We push aside these out bursts and christen those who act out of the norm, as behaving like the truth is, animals do not do the things we do to each other, they do not rape and pillage and claim the very lives of others as there's, they exist solely to go with the flow so to speak, to live side by side with control and accept it for what it is, one of the undefinable and unavoidable concepts that define the very fabric of the universe.
Herein, the author surmises that that which isn't normal, that which we cannot explain or cannot control is alien to us, so foreign and so different to what we assume as the norm that it can only be described as one thing, the opposite of control, chaos. Here lies the crux of history. Control and chaos are as yin and yang, completely contrasted to one another, yet unavoidably as one. Where either exists, the other can always be found.
Mankind has always eluded its ceaseless need for control over one another, (and thus the need for conflict when control is out of ones reach), as merely trying to strive for freedom, order and prosperity. Otherwise, this facade can be emblazoned as absolving chaos and restoring order.
Thus this ever evolving conflux of needless brutality to meet ones end, disguised as the ideals of freedom and order has repeated itself throughout man kinds entire existence.. As it is known, when a tyrant arises to seize control all in the name of freedom and peace, there will always be a stylised, "chronicler", a so-called champion and friend of the people, who, though war-weary, is truly in search of a peaceful reality, in essence, a semblance of control in their day-to-day lives.
In reality, the yin and yang of chaos and control is a fickle concept and if we accept the truth that reality is merely another means of control and that it limits us to what is in our grasp and what will be forever outside of it, what will transpire when our reality diverges from the path that we allot to it? what happens when a hero has no one else to fight? What happens when all of his/her battles have been won, will he maintain peace?
Once again must we peruse the concept of control. After such a being has achieved their destiny, will the beliefs, views and events that have defined their lives stay as a constant, or will they blindly become the very embodiment of chaos they have existed to abolish? Where does the line end and what will it take to remove the bonds that have controlled the life os such a troubled figure?
Herein we arrive at an inexorable and sudden conclusion. As was previously stated, the driving urges of the human race are surmised as power, wealth and land, though also given what was previously stated, these can be categorized as control. Control over our fellow-man, control over the worlds resources and control over the world itself.
If we acknowledge this as a topic, worthy of discussion, and we also acknowledge that control is an illusive and ungraspibly undefinable concept, we must accept that it, like other applicable aspects of reality that man desires to master, will forever, (for lack of a better term), love us and leave us.
To exonerate on this further, all tyrants seek is dominion over the world, yet it seems that control over anything is impossible to maintain and will always falter and die over time, until not even a trace of it remains. Take for example, every empire in history, the Romans, Persians, Assyrians, even the British. Each that arose as a definable world power has crumbled quicker than the last. So when does it all end?
At which point will humanity finally have enough? At which point will our thirst for the material possessions of the world and each other abate? When will this hole in our hearts, driven by insatiable greed be the least of our problems? So to speak, when will they be at the back of the bus?
Herein, we introduce a man, well not a man in the typical sense, but one who has had to struggle with the effects that control has over ones fate all his life. One who, because of the effects that control has had on him, barely recognizes himself in the mirror any more.
Herein we introduce Celian Blake, of mixed Russian, Swedish and Italian origin, who has, because of events that transpired early in his life, deliberately alienated himself from most everyone all his life.
Yet despite this, he has never backed down from a challenge, in fact he cannot, due to a self explained inherent tic in his brain that inexorably drives him towards a conclusion, he is always driven forward in search of the truth behind the lies, the reason behind his existence.
Most who would gaze upon him see only the fire in his eyes, the tension in his every movement. They only see a no-nonsense, physically imposing man who, because of his checkered past, is unable to quit in anything he finds of interest or worthy of his attention. They only perceive one who lashes out at the slightest sign of trouble. They see one, who despite suffering an irreversible war wound and thus, appearing to require a cane to remain mobile, is too stubborn or too stupid to step down from active military duty. And above all, they see a man using his looks to woo the twelve year old girl in his charge.
It was a massive scandal when the highest ranking officer in the Australian military fought in court for the guardianship of the Catholic priest's daughter and actually won, though for what reason he had brought a young, albeit pretty and intelligent, none could guess and though many speculated, very few denied the focus and direction he employed in, as he was reported saying, "getting Chloë Grace Morresset out of the abusive reach of that stuffwit who ruined her child hood and who has the nerve to call himself her father."
Celian's father, Sergei Blake, dismissed all given claims as total rubbish, knowing that the purpose behind his son's level of determination and his drive to get the girl out of her father's influence was purely for her benefit. Sergei knew that his son's loyalty to those who he loved and called friend was beyond legendary, in fact it was a trait that Celian reportedly picked up from his father and after what he went through in becoming guardian for Chloë, he could be nothing but loyal towards her, he could do nothing but care. In short, Sergei knew his son well enough to dispute all accusations as dramatized hooey.
As is the case, though, people are lead to believe, like father like son. Many in the town of Parish Vale speculated about Sergei himself. Just like his son, this Russian born Justice of the peace and ordained minister has had a shady and troubled past, both having lost their mothers at early stages in their lives and both had been, (in Celian's case he still was), career men in the military, (in Sergei's case, he was a Colonel in the Russian Spetsnaz special forces), and were both involved with groups and individuals that were less than reputable.
Many also knew that both had spent time in the slammer and though, given that Sergei was the towns equivalent judge, and Celian was the nations dual commander-in-chief and Vice President, (brought about due to Australia electing to become a republic in the year 2023), and was often on the news and on the radio, no-one dared to guess their motives and as such, few trusted them.
However, the tight knit group that did trust them and vice versa, knew that both father and son would and have gone to such degrees as to put their lives on the line for those whom they cared for. They also knew that this tick in their profile was beyond their control, though in truth it went far beyond just a simple tick. As is the case with most mysteries that control puts out there, the truth was much deeper than that. It was because no one could explain it, especially not them, that it transcended any possible hope of being understood. Celian and Sergei, simply could not live any other way.
It is said that happiness comes from within, yet to Celian in particular, who after witnessing his mother die first hand and then slaughtering her assassins there after all at the tender age of seven, among many other travesties in his existence, happiness only comes from knowing that those who he cares for are safe, content and happy.
However, at the same time, he is aware that safety is a lie, spread by the very tyrants vying for control that he has spent his entire military career trying to remove from their positions of power. As such, he is ever watchful, unable to help but be on the lookout for any danger directed towards those who he loves, in particular, his twelve year old ward, Chloë Grace Morresset, a girl whose life he saved while on mission in a nearby national park and it is this same girl who alone, can and has saved him from his inner demons, that have haunted him his entire life.
This same child, however, is just as lost without Celian as he is without her, for her life has likewise seen many tribulations and trials. Ordeals that plague her with sometimes ceaseless nightmares that, because of an unexplainable bond between the two, he alone can seem to calm her down from. Even her day-to-day life is custom to the occasional flash back that, depending upon the ferocity, renders her almost catatonic and as such has labeled her as a strange case among those of her own age and even among adults who claim to have seen hardship.
In this, both have in common, eidetic, (photographic), memories, cursing them with being unconsciously able to recall any and all past events that have stood out in any way, both the good and the bad.
When questioned about it, Celian reiterated, "it does have its uses, but more often than not, it is something I would often rather live without, plaguing me with my worst dreams and memories that I wish buried for good. I have killed more than I care to admit and I loathe that I have to relive their demise day after day. I hate that I can hear their screaming, I hate that time and again, I see myself plunging my blade into my victims or breaking their necks and almost feeling the life seep out of them, or seeing my bullets tear apart torsos and remove heads. But above all, I'm sick of knowing that because of me, hundreds of families, thousands of mothers and fathers and sons and daughters will never see their loved ones again. they can never tell them that they love them or make up for any mistakes that may plague them. I am a thief, a thief of the worst kind, for I take life all in the hope of an ever illusive peace and give nothing in return. How can I accept it when I am called a victim giving these circumstances?"
And now we do we start the story? Now do we lay bare the mysteries that surround the lives of Celian Blake and those he cares for? Now do we try to discern the truth behind the lies and the good from the bad? That, is entirely up to you.