Chapter 21
Brasta's POV:
During the two months of travel to the Pridelands, I can honestly say I was losing my mind. For me, every day quickly turned into a nightmare; and every night was my own personal Hell. Unfortunately, I do mean that almost literally. You know what's the only thing worse that being pursued by a psychotic lion bent on carving you into tiny pieces, then killing you? Having him be an intruder in every single dream I had.
Every night when I would try to go to sleep, he would show up soon. Then I would be forced to see him torturing me, him torturing Strike, him torturing Fuwele, him torturing Kopa; even him torturing Maua. Even some nights it was just a nightmare of him taunting me, goading me, trying to push me over the edge. He even would imitate Strike's voice in the darkness; "Don't worry, Brasta. I'll be there to comfort you. Oh right, I won't, because thanks to you, I'm dead. Why did you fail to save me, Brasta? Because you can't save anyone. You're worthless, Brasta. Broken. Tainted. Useless."
Broken.
Tainted.
Useless.
I had become a living mask- sadly, my mask did not become me. If I had, everything would have been better. I was being strong, confident, persevering, brave Brasta, who always knew what to do and never gave into bad emotions. Who never felt lonely, or sad, or jealous, or selfish, but was driven forward in life by a single-minded sense of duty.
Oh, how some fantasies are too alluring to be real. But you know, sometimes a fantasy is easier to handle.
During the day, it was all I could do to keep my mask on for Kopa and Maua; to avoid wallowing in self-pity. On the inside, I was mentally and emotionally tearing myself apart. I began to believe those words whispered in my ear by the Nightmare-Sadic. I was indeed broken. I was tainted, hopelessly tainted by my sins. And absolutely useless to anybody. I had tried so hard to be a leader, to be confident and clever; and I had led my troops into utter disaster.
Slowly, surely, I was losing my own identity. I didn't know who I was, where I was going, or what I was doing. But I just kept plodding on, smiling and seemingly content, towards the Pridelands. No matter how much my own sense of purpose was being slowly bled from me like blood from a cut artery.
Despite my mental anguish, I tried my best to still be a good little priest. I prayed, I said my offices, I sacrificed, I thanked, I confessed. Every night, I repeated the prayers I had memorised from adolescence- from one of my offices.
Have mercy on me, O Gods, according to your great mercy. According to the multitude of your compassions wipe out my offence. Wash me from my guilt, and cleanse me from all my sins. For I acknowledge my wickedness, and my sin is ever before me.
Gods, be attentive unto helping me; O Lords, make haste to help me. I am poor and needy; O Gods, come unto my aid. My helper and my deliverer are you, O Lords; make no long tarrying.
Gods, hear my prayer, give ear unto my supplication in Your truth; hearken unto me in Your righteousness. And enter not into judgement with Your servant, for in Your sight shall no man living be justified.
Glory to you who have shown the light, Glory in the Highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men. We praise you, we bless you, we worship you, we glorify you, we give you thanks for your great glory...
I even sent up prayers to my Mother, in hopes she would help her son. I have chosen you to be the protection and intercession of my life, O my Mother. Pilot me to the haven of the Saints, I beg you; entreat our Lord Mortis to hear the voice of my supplications.
I pray you, O my Mother, to dispel the tumult of my soul and the storm of my grief; for thou, O my Mother, are now standing with the Saints and Angels of Heaven.
I am tortured by grievous sicknesses and morbid passions: Mother, help me, I beg of you! Help your son that he may one day join you in Heaven, however unworthy I am of standing before the throne of the Gods with you.
I hoped, desperately, that the Gods would not spurn my prayers. And I believed that, in the state my soul was in now, I would never rest in peace. My emotional state was harder to follow, however. One day I would be consumed with fear; fear for my soul, fear for Kopa, fear for Maua. The next day I was be boiling with nearly uncontrollable anger; anger at myself, anger at Strike, anger at Sadic, anger at the Gods, and anger at the thrice-damned world I lived in. But mostly, I was angry at myself. There were times I wanted nothing more than to rip and bite and tear, to let out all my pent up emotions with a howling scream into the sky.
But I couldn't do that. That wouldn't be logical at all. I had to push all those emotions to the very back of my mind, to preserve what was left of my sanity. I couldn't indulge myself anything, even emotions; or I might let my mask slip.
In between fear and anger was the ever present, soul-crushing sense of loss that pervaded my entire existence at the time. Every time I looked up at the stars, I silently wept for what I had lost.
One night, while Maua and Kopa slept peacefully nearby, I remember staring up at the night sky; searching for a certain star. Strike's star. I was hoping, praying that I would be able to catch a glimpse; that he was in Heaven with the rest of my family.
But I never saw it. Not a single sparkle, glimmer, or glint of that very special star.
I know it sounds absolutely mad, the idea that one can actually tell one star apart from the thousands amongst the vast sable dome of the sky. But I know, as my mother and father always told me, that the star that shines the most radiantly for each person is the one the one that person misses the most.
And Gods knew I missed him. I missed everything about him; his soothing voice, his warm touch, his lopsided, mischievous smile.
So why was his star not there? Did he hate me so much that he didn't want to even let me know he was in Heaven? Had my dreadful sins not only cut me off from the Gods, but him as well? Was my failure so abhorrent that he could not even allow me a simple bit of comfort, a simple reassurance?
The thought lay heavy on my mind that night, and every night after. Even my dreams no longer held him, which was both a blessing and a curse. I didn't want to see him tortured, or harmed in any way; but I also wanted to at least see him again, if only in my troubled dreams. Those nightmares had been at least bittersweet solace.
But now, only Kopa, Fuwele, Maua, my Father, or the rest of my family were in my nightmares. Every night I craved sleep like a drought-stricken land thirsting for rain- but I also feared it, for I knew sleep would bring me only further misery. And when dawn came, I allowed my usual mask to fall right back into place; calm, cool, and stoic. I would carry on my daily life as I traveled with Kopa and Maua, smiling, chatting, eating, drinking; making sure they never got a glimpse of the pain that stabbed at my heart.
By this time, we were almost to his home; we were near a gorge just on the border of the Pridelands. And frankly, I'm not sure if that was good or bad. I wanted to restart my life there, to live with my brother-in-law, my niece and their family, and to make sure everything would be alright again.
But could my life really ever be normal again? Could the gnawing emptiness in me, the horrible bleeding away of all positive emotions, be dispelled?
The more I thought about it, the more something in the innermost, darkest regions of my mind told me, No, you will not. They won't be your real family, and they never will. How could they welcome you, a weak, hopeless, failure of a lion? How do you think they'll act when they find out what you are?
The whirling thoughts stabbed cruelly at me, every one causing me fresh mental anguish. But they just kept on coming, never stopping as my bitter, shame-driven thoughts ripped away at my shallow emotional fortitude. You're still damned, still tainted, still a broken limb; not good for anything but being filled with pain. A lonely and total failure.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure...
Stop it! I cried to myself. That wretched word would not leave my head until I found myself repeating it like a mantra. I was a failure, and nothing could change that. The worst thing about it? I believed that. I was quickly believing every poisonous thought that slithered into my mind, that I had been trying to keep at bay for two months now.
But the worst was the sudden and smothering sense of loneliness. Despite Kopa and Maua with me, I had been feeling a horrible loneliness looming over my shoulder for the past couple months, haunting me like a sightless spectre. Like everything else, I had been keeping my walls, my supposedly nigh-impregnable defences buttressed by my sense of duty and my need to retain my sanity, up and fiercely guarded. And now, as my personal demon of Loneliness oppressed me with all the others, my defences were weakening. I fought it, I fought it, I fought it, again and again. But tonight... I couldn't fight it anymore.
And my walls came crumbling down.
I sagged to the ground, as if the weight of the whole world was pushing me into the dust. I... couldn't do this anymore! I couldn't fight tooth and claw against myself, my own mind, for my sanity anymore. I couldn't fight my nightmares. I couldn't fight my burning conscience, for a short-lived peace of mind. I was sick and tired of playing this damned game with myself. I was sick of fighting this battle over and over and over again, winning only Pyrrhic victories.
So I did the only thing I could think to do; I ran.
"Learn to be Lonely" by Minnie Driver begins.
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
For too long I had dared to hope, dared to dream that I would yet get a respite from the crushing weight of loneliness. For too long I had trusted blindly in the Gods, I thought. Strike, my sister, my mother, my Father, Jiwe, Nyete; they were never coming back. And in the state my soul was in at the time, I would never see the light of Heaven with them. So what was the point fighting it anymore?
Who will be there for you
Comfort and care for you
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
I knew from there, no matter what, I would always be alone. Set apart from everyone else who was normal. I would never know the embrace of a lover. I would never find someone to love me- worthless, broken wretch that I was. I didn't deserve it, and I never would.
Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you
You've always known your heart was on its own
Guided by the lights of the sky, I found myself upon the precipice of the gorge. Very fitting, in an ironic way; for once, my body and my soul were in the same position, metaphorically speaking. And if things went right, it would be for the very last time.
I now had the chance to rid myself of all my pain, all my hurts, all my nightmares, all my emptiness. There is no other way out of this, I told myself. I had nothing left to hope for. Nothing to look forward to but more agony. No one to hold me in the night as I cried. No one to clasp me safe and warm in their arms, as all my fears and worries fade away.
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
I walked along the edge of the gorge now, taking a deep breath. Could I really do this? Did I really have the courage to take my own life?
Yes, I told myself firmly. I would not let myself be a coward in my last moments. I had only one way to escape. The only way to finally be free of my pains. I was likely going straight to the fires of perdition- but then again, i was headed there already, wasn't I?
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived, life can be loved..
Steeling my nerves, I stepped up to the edge of the abyss, and let myself lean forward...
Alone.