Chapter 2: Broken Promises

While they made their way throughout the large city, Matthew kept his distance from the French man. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd missed the man, so much so he had often caught himself thinking of getting in touch with him once again, before shutting out his feelings and running back to Arthur for some sort of support. But when it came down to that same man finally making contact with him once more, how was he ever to say no? And for that, Matthew had begun to hate himself.

How dare he force himself back into my life, after everything! Matthew mentally yelled to Francis, as he watched the bouncing blond curls front he corner of his eye. How dare he bring back these painful memories, what gives him the right? It's not fair, It's not right! So why do I still want this so badly? I suppose I like the pain? What's wrong with me! Matthew struggled with his thoughts, and hastily wiped a tear away when Francis turned to him with the most beautiful smile any man could have ever beheld.

In his chest, Matthew's heart ceased to beat, while in his head, his brain screamed out at him. Don't you remember what that smile did to you all those years ago? The broken promises? Don't you remember anything? And of course ... Of course he remembered. How was he to ever forget such pain? He felt his knees go weak beneath him, and the last conscious thing he did was to bring his hands to his head as he fell forward, in time to fall into a deep, cold darkness.


I must be sleeping, Matthew kept thinking, enclosed in the close darkness. But he was not bothered. After all, this was better than the pain he kept so close to his heart. Sighing softly, he realized the darkness seemed to be receding. He blinked, and there seemed to be a bright light, slowly creeping forward. He watched it move towards him, like watching an impending car crash and being helpless to do anything at all. He was overwhelmed by the light, and felt himself slowly slipping away into the light, blinking himself awake into a long ago forgotten land. Staring, shapes began to form around him. Greens, and browns...trees? Grass?

What's going on? He wondered.

Where am I?

Blinking once more, he found himself walking through a forest, branches and leaves brushing his legs, unable to stop the succession of events before him. He made his way across a beaten path, and found himself on a beach. No, not a beach. Fishing area. He suddenly remembered. The thought seemed strange to him, somehow alien, but he continued moving nonetheless. He found himself projected in a scenery of long-houses in the distance, and children playing with small toys while the smell of roasting fish came to his sense of smell.

He stood, motionless, and watched as dark skinned men walked to the water's shore, watching like an impending doom was falling before them, while a group of well dressed men walked to the shores, giant ships trailing behind them. One man, although younger and less arrogant, he recognized. The blond curls, the loud laugh, the conquering expression he wore as he walked to greet the men. No, not just men. The Chief and his tribe. The Iroquois tribe. He seemed to remember as he stared on.

Matthew found himself suddenly overwhelmed with nostalgia, recognizing the Iroquois tribe he had known so well in the past. These were his people. And his people, little did they know, would be betrayed. Matthew would suffer the loss of thousands, and find himself adopting a new population, a new ruler, his lands suddenly in someone else's hands, his and his population's freedom stripped from their very beings. He watched as the blond man he had trusted so many years ago made first contact with his own, all over again, how he amazed the Chief with dull, worthless objects. Mirrors, alcohol. But worst of all, weapons, guns, things to bring his people to extinction. He screamed internally, he had to stop this before it was too late!

He found himself being propelled forward, his own legs pushing him towards that tall French man with hatred, ready to annihilate him before he caused harm to his own people all over again. As he reached the taller man, he was finally able to hear what the man had said all those years ago. "My men will never harm this land, nor will they harm the inhabitants of it. Instead, we wish to live side by side in peace. And from this day forth, I swear to protect those of you who shall need protection from further invasions." He had spoken proudly. Little did the Chief know that their very own ''protector'' would bring forth their own destruction. A broken, worthless promise! Matthew cried, remembering more and more of his nation's painful past.

Matthew found himself screaming at the Chief, failing attempts at warning him, as his pleas fell upon death ears, while the men shook hands and celebrated. Matthew fell to his knees, screaming, as the scene before him warped into a horrid scene of burning long-houses, women being stabbed, raped, and murdered. The screaming of children as they were taken away from their families. The cries of war the men echoed as they attempted to take revenge on the paler skinned men, only to be found taken in shackles and forced into slavery.

Matthew knelt in the sand of that shore where so long ago, he had foolishly trusted a man to help protect his growing population, crying and yelling at the sky. Where was these men's ''God'' when his people were being destroyed? Where was that ''divine miracle'' these men had promised their ''God'' would give them? Why hadn't He stopped this? Why were his people being murdered, because of his foolish mistake? Helpless, Matthew looked to the sky and screamed to be taken, to spare his people and to be sacrificed himself. Why were his people being punished, when all they had ever done was take care of the land this ''God'' had given them. It's not fair! Matthew cried, as he closed his eyes, shutting out the pain of the memories that were now overwhelming him.


Matthew lay in the sand, his eyes closed and his ears covered, when he realized it had become completely quiet once more. He opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by pale skinned men and women, small children, dancing to songs the elders sang for them. He watched in awe, listening to his people express themselves in French. Since the decimation of the first nation tribes, these people were all the poor nation had left, and he had sworn that this time, no one would bring an end to their happiness, not without him putting up a fight.

The man he now knew as France had not been seen within his lands for years. Matthew had been left to take care of these strange creatures on his own, to learn this new language and way of life, and to assure them a great life. He had done so well. They all seemed so happy. He found himself being carried on his weak legs, through a small village of happy families, a school filled with smiling children and laughing teachers. How he had enjoyed these times of peace, watching his small communities grow larger.

On the school yard, he watched with a smile as a small boy stole a kiss from a little girl, who ran off, blushing. He chuckled softly, watching the boy giggle. At least he hadn't failed his people this time. He had done so well for these people, if he did say so himself.

The ground shook beneath him and he looked ahead, witnessing with horror the ending of the beautiful days of peace. He watched as men with a strange new language and large, proudly floating flags made their way across the village, to the Maire du village. To the Mayor, a tall, thick eyebrow-ed man made salutations in a broken up french. He spoke for hours with the man, before leaving at dusk, and coming back the next day at the crack of dawn, and so on, for many months.

"I know how the French have treated you, mon bon Monsieur, abandoning you in such strange lands, leaving you to cope for yourselves in this deserted country. I also know that if you allow my men to stay here, within your lands, we will protect you from further harm from those French bastards, and that we shall actually take care of your people." Promises you are soon to forget, Arthur. Please, please, just leave my people alone! The Nation silently pleaded

Matthew had watched each passing day with horror, as slowly but surely, the Mayor had granted him access to his lands, which to his surprise, brought war upon them when the French came to banish the English from their lands. All these years, alone and fending for themselves, when suddenly, back from their absence, this land supposedly belongs to the French, and the French only. All these years of exile, but when it came time to share, France would have none of that.

Once again, Matthew watched, helpless, praying that his people made it out safely. Luckily, the English were banished from the lands twice, but it would not be long before the attacks would reoccur. Alas! The French did lose at some point, and to Matthew's horror, his population found itself abandoned by the mother land and handed over to the enemy forces. I wish you could see what you caused Francis. How your abandonment lead to the deaths of an entire population! You bastard! Matthew mentally cursed the French man, screaming internally.

The English took possession of the lands and banished its inhabitants, deporting thousands of Matthew's Acadian population to exile. This time, Matthew found himself unable to protest. He lay in a field of grass, broken, watching hundreds of the Acadians burned alive in a church. Everyone he had ever trusted had brought destruction upon his country. So many of his population, HIS people, brutally murdered, and it had been his fault, all because he had failed to protect them adequately. How could he have been so stupid? To trust a complete stranger. I should, I should have known, and I should have stopped it! It was HIS foolishness that had brought the destruction of his people. HE had failed to protect them, like he had promised himself he would. How was he to expect others to keep their oaths while even he failed to keep his own promises from fraying and breaking?

This time, Matthew did not dare look away, if he could bring this horror to his people, he could watch the show go down, until all that was left of his nation were ruins, charred bodies, and mutilated men. Of course, Matthew knew England would come to his senses one day, and apologize for all the wrong he had caused. He also knew that the British man would never abandon him, or his country, and only help him grow, unlike that French bastard, who had given Matthew's people over to the enemy... without a second glance... without remorse...

Matthew lay in that grassy field, his memories flooding back to him, forcing the lock he had branded so deep upon his heart to be ripped open, setting forth waves of immense pain and self hatred, that only a nation could have contained without having its very being, its core, destroyed. He cried, loud sobs racking his body, until he found himself fading once more into the comforting darkness, where he could simply float and not have to exist, not really. Where he did not need to feel all this pain, these memories of his people suffering, the cries of helplessness that had been engraved in his memory, haunting his dreams, turning every one of them to nightmares forevermore...

Its nice here... He found himself thinking, before sinking into the darkness completely.


*Maire du village: French for Mayor of the village.

*Mon Bon Monsieur: French for my good sir.

(A/N)

So this chapter mentions a lot of Canadian history. From what I remember learning in school, around the 1600's, Canada was a foreign land inhabited by what we now call the first nations. There were different first nation tribes, like the Iroquois, the Hurons, the Mohawks and a few others. When the french discovered the land, they brought objects such as guns, mirrors, alcohol, clothing, to exchange with the first nation furs that they would trap. Eventually, the french began to colonize the land and took up more of the land. To gain more of the land, they forced children into first nation reformations schools, where they were forced to become Christians, forbidden to speak or practice their Indian language and culture. They no longer saw their families. Meanwhile, the french began to kill off some of the larger tribes, and forced a few into slavery.

Eventually, the English came up from today's United States, which back then were called the thirteen colonies and began colonizing the southern parts of Canada. When France found out, both the french and English began a war, to keep ownership of the land. Eventually the french lost, and didn't come back to take back ownership of canada, called new france at the time. Voltaire, a french philosopher, was asked how he felt about his country's abandonment of Canada, commented: "Oh, pour quelques arpents de neige... ca n'en vaut pas la peine" Which basically translates to "oh, well for just a few acres of snow...not worth it." eventually, the English traveled to Acadia, a small community from the coastal provinces and had them deported off to other areas of the world, and the ones who refused to leave were killed. A church was also filled with members of the community and set on fire, killing 100's of Acadians.

***Now, this chapter was based on what I remember from my history courses, and what information I found online. It might not be 100% exact, so if you see some inaccuracies, you can let me know. If you wish to learn more, then you can always do a little research :) There is a nice time line on the link below that gives a short resume of the different events.***

Here's the link: /first-nations/timeline/timeline-2

As always, thanks for reading! Reviews are love, let me know if you see grammar errors or such! Thanks !

Foxytan