p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Finland has blood on his hands, his clothes and some even on his face. Sweden is lying on the ground perfectly dead. Yet, it isn't the best day of all. Not exactly. Even if there was the time when Timo would be glad with that turn of events. Now he is certainly not. br /The place is dark and smells of blood, sweat and rot. However, Finland doesn't feel it anymore. When he came here he brought the blood and the sweat with him, both smells sharp and unbearable at that point. The shack is small, with no windows, with no floor – just bare ground. Somebody must have left this place long time ago and the smell which Finland doesn't bring with himself is the one of the rotting wood. He didn't notice it at first, he was too busy carrying Sweden's body. At this point Bernhard wasn't dead, not yet, but he was probably already waiting for saint Peter to welcome him in the afterlife. His breath was so weak that Timo had to put his own face right to the Sweden's mouth to feel him breathing on his cheek. br /Now even that is gone. br /Unconscious or not, Sweden was some sort of familiar presence. Without him Finland is alone in a very specific kind of way. He - the warm, living person with the other's cold, lifeless body and the secret of death separating them both. br /The door of the shack is gone so Finland has replaced it partially with the remains of a bench he had found inside. They are not impressive but they provide some illusion of separation from the outside which Timo desperately needs right now. He is sitting on the ground, facing the provisory door he made, hearing the murmur of the rain in the trees and the dripping of water in this one particular spot where the roof is not hermetic anymore. br /It's pitch black. He knows where the door is only because he can hear the rain and because he hasn't moved since it has gotten dark. The clouds must be covering the moon so well that not a single stream of the silver light would come through them. And even if it could, the forest would be another obstacle on the way down to the earth. br /Timo thinks he could be just a pair of blind eyes hovering in the darkness. No body, just the eyes and the sole consciousness. Except that he feels the dull pain of the muscles so he must have some. His left arm is itching so he also has to have it. He feels nuisances from hunger so he certainly must have a stomach. His hand is hurting from holding his knife too hard so he's quite sure he probably has also a hand, at least one of them. br /As the fear and the anxiety are slowly leaving him, he begins to feel empty and exhausted. Behind him, lying on his blood-soaked coat, Sweden remains dead. br /Finland misses the exact moment when he falls asleep./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"***/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"He has a dream that the enemy appeared banging at the door (it existed in this reality) because they spotted the grey smoke coming out of the chimney. Timo wakes up, his heart racing. There is a stone fireplace in the shack but it remains cold and as soon as Finland remember it, he feels a wave of relief washing over him. He realizes he doesn't hold a knife anymore and seeks it blindly with his fingers touching the ground. It takes him decades or, at least, it is what it feels like. Eventually he finds his precious treasure and closes his fingers on the handle. br /He listens for a while trying not to breath but he doesn't hear anybody's else breathing. He realizes thought, that the rain has stopped. Slowly, feeling his whole body rapidly protesting, he stands up and looks back at the place where Sweden's form lies motionlessly on the ground. Some of the greyish light enters the shack through the cracks in the roof. Timo makes a few steps, just to be sure. Bernhard's face looks like a mask of wax and the Finn doesn't exactly enjoy the view. He feels angry and miserable that it all has ended up this way. It is the best moment to have these feelings – under the dark cloak of the night when there is no living soul able to see him. br /But this also means he is left alone with his thoughts. br /He almost-almost touches the dead man's scalp. As no other person saw it, this moment of hesitation may have not even happened at all. Instead, he says a quick, messy prayer in favour of the other's soul. br /Still half-asleep he muses how funny it is that now he is as willing to fight alongside Bernhard in a foreign land and afterwards bring his heavily-wounded body here, as he was willing to put a knife in Sweden's heart centuries /Timo comes back to his previous spot on the ground, sits again to face the door, armed and vigilant./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"***/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Every vigilance has its limits. br /He wakes up one more time to see the golden coloured mist laying upon the fern, the wet leaves glittering in the morning light. Timo is looking at it, suddenly moved by something he cannot recognize at the moment but he is quite sure he should. He thinks for the moment that maybe someone else's breath has became audible during these hours but no. There must be something different then. br /He gets up, feeling like if he is the one personally rising from his grave. He would love just to take his white towel and go to a sauna but it is not an option at the moment. And probably won't be in the upcoming future. After... after Bernhard gets better, they will have to find the others while avoiding getting stubbed by a pitchforks of the angry locals. They, the Swedes, are not exactly welcomed here after all. No wonder, they may have... burned something, injured somebody, left some women widowed, it happens on the war. br /Timo checks on Bernhard again but mostly span style="font-style: oblique;"pro forma /span. The blood is dry and brown. There is so much of it. There was, Finland corrects himself in his head, because at this point, he thinks it already belongs to the past and doesn't matter anymore. The line has been crossed. br /He needs to take a leak so he removes the remains of the branch which were acting as a peculiar door-replacement and walks out. br /He takes care of his blister and feels less like something that has been chewed on by a dog for the whole night. He licks the wet leaves to get some water for his dry mouth. He has something to drink in his container but he wants to save it for later. Then he notices round shapes of berries and picks some of them up. He eats them and tastes sweet-sour flavour with a hint of iron from his dried, cracked lips. br /He does it all, happy to be busy because when he has something to do the night fears are getting further and further and also he doesn't fully embrace how damn worried he is. Worried about Sweden, worried about being found by the enemy, worried about being lost in the unknown land. br /There is also a tiny, tiny thought, growing within him from some time. The one which makes him think of the old days and ancient words and other things he should not speak about. Bears' skulls on the trees, sacrifices for the spirits of the animals, words of power... It is stupid because Timo actually has never brought anybody back to life, even as Toivo, and there was still time for Sweden to come back but Finland still DOES know and remember some, let's say, theory. These things are hard to forget, they have a life on their own, they leave a long shadow on the memory. br /This is not the first time it happens. When Timo sees Bernhard struck by the knife, sword, bayonet there appears a thought that Finland knows the origin of iron and maybe he would undo the cut- But he never lets himself succumb to this thought. He will not come back to this way. It leads nowhere but to the void, as he believes now. br /Suddenly, as if an invisible curtain has been unveiled, Finland realises what has been bothering him since he woke up. The song of the land bursts around him. All of the sudden he hears it everywhere. In the air, coming from the trees, from the ground, from the water shining on the leaves. It is overwhelming and Finland feels absolute and endless terror because he is not at home. Not even slightly. He is as far from home as he can possibly be. br /Then he sees it and he remembers that he does have a weapon and a dead friend to protect. However, he is sure that he the knife he has and even the pistol he has left inside of the shack probably cannot save him right now. br /The thing he finds himself gazing upon, is tall, its face is as pale as the bone and horned. It stands on two legs but the resemblance to human makes its appearance even less familiar. Its body seems to be made of wet wood and partially covered with moss, although, Timo pays the majority of his attention to exactly three most problematic issues: the size of the creature, the length of the creature's arms and the fact that he has no idea what it is. The last is important because the knowledge of the origin of something gives the power over it. But Finland is clueless now, he would guess but guessing is too little. Nevertheless, he will try it if forced to. br /But the creature does not come closer. It remains near, not moving. Its eyes are burning through the mist and right into the Finland's soul. Or souls. He's not sure at this point, even if he wears the cross on his chest. br /He hasn't noticed when he has slightly moved to bar the way straight to the entrance of shack. He's done it, he didn't know when, thought. After all, even if he doesn't remember anymore, he feels it deep in his bones and under his skin that the guarding is the core of his self. And so he /But the thing that he does notice it's that the song of this land is no longer overpowering and overwhelming. He hears it, of course, but he doesn't focus on it. All in all, there are more absorbing problems at the moment. br /The creature remains still. The intensity of its gaze fades as if it is slowly loosing the interest. Maybe the powerful spirit of the forest doesn't see much danger in some small, foreign, dirty and desperate thing from the north. br /Everything is like frozen in time when Timo hears the voice last time he heard as a hoarse voice:br /"Finland?!"br /The Finn looks back maybe for a split second (a move he regrets deeply) and it is enough for the horned creature to disappear. br /He comes back inside, his legs shaky, his head dizzy, his face sheet-white. Bernhard looks awful but very alive and Timo cannot hold a smile that curves his lips for the first time this day./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"***/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"He has a dream that the enemy appeared banging at the door (it existed in this reality) because they spotted the grey smoke coming out of the chimney. Timo wakes up, his heart racing. There is a stone fireplace in the shack but it remains cold and as soon as Finland remember it, he feels a wave of relief washing over him. He realizes he doesn't hold a knife anymore and seeks it blindly with his fingers touching the ground. It takes him decades or, at least, it is what it feels like. Eventually he finds his precious treasure and closes his fingers on the handle. br /He listens for a while trying not to breath but he doesn't hear anybody's else breathing. He realizes thought, that the rain has stopped. Slowly, feeling his whole body rapidly protesting, he stands up and looks back at the place where Sweden's form lies motionlessly on the ground. Some of the greyish light enters the shack through the cracks in the roof. Timo makes a few steps, just to be sure. Bernhard's face looks like a mask of wax and the Finn doesn't exactly enjoy the view. He feels angry and miserable that it all has ended up this way. It is the best moment to have these feelings – under the dark cloak of the night when there is no living soul able to see him. br /But this also means he is left alone with his thoughts. br /He almost-almost touches the dead man's scalp. As no other person saw it, this moment of hesitation may have not even happened at all. Instead, he says a quick, messy prayer in favour of the other's soul. br /Still half-asleep he muses how funny it is that now he is as willing to fight alongside Bernhard in a foreign land and afterwards bring his heavily-wounded body here, as he was willing to put a knife in Sweden's heart centuries /Timo comes back to his previous spot on the ground, sits again to face the door, armed and vigilant./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"***/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Every vigilance has its limits. br /He wakes up one more time to see the golden coloured mist laying upon the fern, the wet leaves glittering in the morning light. Timo is looking at it, suddenly moved by something he cannot recognize at the moment but he is quite sure he should. He thinks for the moment that maybe someone else's breath has became audible during these hours but no. There must be something different then. br /He gets up, feeling like if he is the one personally rising from his grave. He would love just to take his white towel and go to a sauna but it is not an option at the moment. And probably won't be in the upcoming future. After... after Bernhard gets better, they will have to find the others while avoiding getting stubbed by a pitchforks of the angry locals. They, the Swedes, are not exactly welcomed here after all. No wonder, they may have... burned something, injured somebody, left some women widowed, it happens on the war. br /Timo checks on Bernhard again but mostly span style="font-style: oblique;"pro forma /span. The blood is dry and brown. There is so much of it. There was, Finland corrects himself in his head, because at this point, he thinks it already belongs to the past and doesn't matter anymore. The line has been crossed. br /He needs to take a leak so he removes the remains of the branch which were acting as a peculiar door-replacement and walks out. br /He takes care of his blister and feels less like something that has been chewed on by a dog for the whole night. He licks the wet leaves to get some water for his dry mouth. He has something to drink in his container but he wants to save it for later. Then he notices round shapes of berries and picks some of them up. He eats them and tastes sweet-sour flavour with a hint of iron from his dried, cracked lips. br /He does it all, happy to be busy because when he has something to do the night fears are getting further and further and also he doesn't fully embrace how damn worried he is. Worried about Sweden, worried about being found by the enemy, worried about being lost in the unknown land. br /There is also a tiny, tiny thought, growing within him from some time. The one which makes him think of the old days and ancient words and other things he should not speak about. Bears' skulls on the trees, sacrifices for the spirits of the animals, words of power... It is stupid because Timo actually has never brought anybody back to life, even as Toivo, and there was still time for Sweden to come back but Finland still DOES know and remember some, let's say, theory. These things are hard to forget, they have a life on their own, they leave a long shadow on the memory. br /This is not the first time it happens. When Timo sees Bernhard struck by the knife, sword, bayonet there appears a thought that Finland knows the origin of iron and maybe he would undo the cut- But he never lets himself succumb to this thought. He will not come back to this way. It leads nowhere but to the void, as he believes now. br /Suddenly, as if an invisible curtain has been unveiled, Finland realises what has been bothering him since he woke up. The song of the land bursts around him. All of the sudden he hears it everywhere. In the air, coming from the trees, from the ground, from the water shining on the leaves. It is overwhelming and Finland feels absolute and endless terror because he is not at home. Not even slightly. He is as far from home as he can possibly be. br /Then he sees it and he remembers that he does have a weapon and a dead friend to protect. However, he is sure that he the knife he has and even the pistol he has left inside of the shack probably cannot save him right now. br /The thing he finds himself gazing upon, is tall, its face is as pale as the bone and horned. It stands on two legs but the resemblance to human makes its appearance even less familiar. Its body seems to be made of wet wood and partially covered with moss, although, Timo pays the majority of his attention to exactly three most problematic issues: the size of the creature, the length of the creature's arms and the fact that he has no idea what it is. The last is important because the knowledge of the origin of something gives the power over it. But Finland is clueless now, he would guess but guessing is too little. Nevertheless, he will try it if forced to. br /But the creature does not come closer. It remains near, not moving. Its eyes are burning through the mist and right into the Finland's soul. Or souls. He's not sure at this point, even if he wears the cross on his chest. br /He hasn't noticed when he has slightly moved to bar the way straight to the entrance of shack. He's done it, he didn't know when, thought. After all, even if he doesn't remember anymore, he feels it deep in his bones and under his skin that the guarding is the core of his self. And so he /But the thing that he does notice it's that the song of this land is no longer overpowering and overwhelming. He hears it, of course, but he doesn't focus on it. All in all, there are more absorbing problems at the moment. br /The creature remains still. The intensity of its gaze fades as if it is slowly loosing the interest. Maybe the powerful spirit of the forest doesn't see much danger in some small, foreign, dirty and desperate thing from the north. br /Everything is like frozen in time when Timo hears the voice last time he heard as a hoarse voice:br /"Finland?!"br /The Finn looks back maybe for a split second (a move he regrets deeply) and it is enough for the horned creature to disappear. br /He comes back inside, his legs shaky, his head dizzy, his face sheet-white. Bernhard looks awful but very alive and Timo cannot hold a smile that curves his lips for the first time this day./p
