The one but least chapter! Which means this story should be finished before the end of 2011….2012 will probably bring a new album…..That makes me feel all sort of thing, but most of all, it gives me the Saint-Nicolas kind of feeling. Because Asterix is part of my childhood….I don't mind the other story writers really. Goscinny has always been a superior text writer and I'm sure I will continue to miss his subtlety. But I think we deserve an album without purple aliens. I'm actually quite worried about the announcements for the next real-live movie in which they will make Asterix a bit "annoying". They have done that in the past in the movies without actually saying it and I fear it will be even worse. That is not how I see Asterix at all. If being stubborn and standing behind your ideas means you're annoying…
I try to picture him differently. Stubborn, sometimes, a bit hot-headed, maybe. But I have always thought Asterix was a sort of prototype for the best friend you could have, and that is what I try to bring across in my story. Because having one good friend can make all the difference in the world.
The sound of the rooster seemed fainter than usual to Asterix. Even the light coming in through the window seemed blurred. His head was dull, heavy with sleep. And he was warm. He tried to move, but felt he couldn't. As he tilted his head, he spotted Obelix. He hung heavily on the bedpost, slumbering, his large hand still on Asterix' chest. As Asterix turned his head, he met a mess of tangled black hair. Phyllis lay on her side next to him, her hand too still on his chest, glowing faintly, even though she seemed fast asleep. The burnt smell in her hair made reality crash in, made his heartbeat quicken. Still, if Phyllis and Obelix were both here, that was good news, wasn't it? And he remembered Phyllis, after attacking Mesmeron, and him touching her shoulder. He relaxed. He knew he got hurt worse than he had ever been, but he only felt immensely tired. There had been dreams, lots of them. Nightmares, but they felt faint, like dreams tended to be once you woke up. Others felt vivid, and they were easier to recall since they were part of his memory as well as of his slumber.
Obelix and him, sitting at the table of his house and looking at the sums Getafix gave them, while his mother was in the background, preparing dinner. He heard himself turn the numbers into boars, and he felt glee as Obelix finally found the answer.
He recalled the dreams one by one, many part of his journeys, and he realized that Obelix was never in the images that passed his mind, though he was always there. They were memories. Memories meant apparently to drive away the horrid images Mesmerons' spell caused. He saw himself grow older, many of their journeys passing. His cousin in Great Britain, Corsica, their journey back from Hispania. He saw himself standing on the pedestal at the Olympic Games. The moment had not been that important to him, since it involved quite a bit of cheating to get on that pedestal. But Obelix apparently thought it was a great memory. Come to think of it, he DID outsmart them, even if he didn't outrun his competitors. He smiled.
Their feasts and their walks through the village, his long talks to Getafix while the others were fighting over the latest not fresh or fresh fish (not fresh of course)…. Asterix always thought Obelix was too focused on the fight to notice his absence during those moments. But apparently he realized very well how much Asterix valued Getafix…..
The door creaked open. Bonny entered, and he was shocked at her worn disposure. "She looks worse than the three of us," he thought. "Or at least, she looks worse then I feel." Yet, as she settled next to Phyllis and smiled at him, Asterix realized it was the first time he saw her smile reach her eyes.
Bonny combed back Phyllis hair with her fingers, revealing her face, as pale as ever. And a bruised eye and cut upper lip. Asterix flinched.
"Yeah, it doesn't look pretty. But still, I haven't seen her sleep without flinching for ages. I would start healing her but…"
"Don't even think about it." Phyllis murmured, "You'll kill yourself."
"You're one to talk. Sleeping won't do you much good if you keep on healing people while you do so."
Phyllis shifted. "I'm not…" She spotted her glowing hand and stopped talking. "Oh," she added faintly, falling back to her original position.
Bonny looked at Asterix. "How do you feel?"
"Good, actually, tired…but good."
"You healed quite fast. Most of your injuries are gone, but that doesn't mean you body won't need time to recover."
They sat in silence for a while. Asterix noticed that Phyllis was dozing off again, while Obelix was slowly waking up. Finally, Bonny spoke again.
"You're right," she said to Phyllis. "I'm not fit to heal you right now. But I CAN carry you to Getafix and Manilla. She stood up again and lifted her smaller friend from the bed before she could protest. Once she had steadied Phyllis, she looked back at Obelix and Asterix. "I'll tell Getafix that you're awake."
"Oh my God Bonny, I'm not five you know," Phyllis complained, but she didn't struggle, which probably meant she was too exhausted for it.
"You sure? Because you don't weigh much more." Bonny answered dryly as she walked through the door. Their bickering continued, fading as Bonny continued towards Getafix'hut.
"They'll be fine," Asterix smiled. He noticed Obelix' worried look and added "And so will I, so don't you worry."
"You almost died!"
"I know." Asterix wanted to add something, but he realized there was little he could say. That Bonny did not try to heal Phyllis was meaningful enough. She had used all of her strength to keep him alive. Obelix looked so worried that Asterix was surprised he had managed to recall all those great moments. This reminded Asterix of something:
"I saw Phyllis, riding Goliath? Well I didn't really see her but…"
Obelix eyes lit "I think she showed you, or uhm, well us, that memory on purpose. After all, it happened because of you." He reflected over the memories Phyllis showed them.
"You also remember the other one, in which she was younger? I could see her in that memory. I wonder why…."
Asterix thought for a moment. "Maybe it wasn't her own memory."
"That makes sense. She learned that from her mother. Maybe it was her mother looking at them," He paused. "They looked happy. Do you think they will ever be friends again?"
"Who knows," Asterix was feeling incredibly tired. "They were bickering again as they left here. Friends tend to do that…" he smiled, closing his eyes again. Obelix watched his friend drift back to sleep with mixed feelings. Asterix seemed well enough, except for the part where he could barely finish two sentences before drifting off. But after watching him for a while to make sure the nightmares did not return, Obelix stood up. The village has suffered quite a battle yesterday. He was pretty sure they could use him outside.
It was almost sunset when Asterix woke up again, this time to discover Getafix near his bed. The old man looked a bit worn out too, but most of all, he looked impossibly gleeful.
"You look very happy," Asterix said. "I take it no one got hurt?"
"Oh I wouldn't go that far. Our best warrior took quite a beating," Getafix said, his eyes twinkling. And some of the others have injuries. But with a few healers and myself running about, that is nothing to worry about," he added quickly, seeing Asterix' alarmed face.
"There is a lot of reason to be happy though. So much was gained yesterday. you did it again, Asterix."
"I didn't do that much. If it weren't for Phyllis…"
"We would have lost, yes. But she would not have been here if it weren't for you. She wouldn't have had her horse to help her if it weren't for you. But most of all, she fought for the future because of you. She chose life."
"I'm not sure I follow that…"
"Phyllis held all of Mesmerons power in that staff. If she had shot it back at him, she would have destroyed him. But she would have had to use all of her strength to do so. She wouldn't have survived."
"So Mesmeron is still alive."
Getafix stood up. "I never thought I would see the day were Manilla valued one life over the other. But she did. Mesmeron is dead, and Phyllis won't have to make her decision about that anymore. But between you and me, I think she made it when she let go of that staff to catch you."
"I don't think she meant to drop it. It was probably an accident."
"Maybe. But she has come to see me, Manilla and the others before she started healing you, and we have visited you many times throughout the night. She hasn't asked about Mesmeron. Not once."
"It was clear he was defeated, even if she didn't kill him."
"And thanks to you, and Obelix too, that became enough." Getafix fixed his gaze on the blond warrior. "For years, Phyllis' story has been one of revenge. Revenge on Mesmeron, revenge on the teacher she once trusted. She has built her powers around it, pushing away every other emotion and I don't blame Manilla for fearing what Phyllis became. Manilla thought Phyllis would lose herself in this battle. That is why she tried to prevent it."
"You can't prevent a warrior from fighting when there is a cause." Asterix remarked.
"Sometimes, preventing them to fight without a cause is almost just as difficult," said Getafix, thinking warily of all the fish fights that had left their village is disarray. "But that is what you saw in her. Instead of a healer losing her core, you saw a warrior, with a cause that she was not meant to ignore. You recognized her for what she was. And you accepted her, even if it meant taking all the dark powers around it with that acceptance. I think Phyllis never accepted herself as much as you did. She has always been surrounded by peace and the will to reach harmony. Sure, she has seen soldiers before she met you, but you and I know most roman soldiers are born in their profession.
"So am I, actually."
"But you have always had a choice, Asterix. More than one, actually. Your parents are merchandisers now, you were the brightest student of your class….You could have become a druid, if you had chosen to. I've thought for a while that you would."
Asterix' eyes were wide as saucers at that statement.
"Maybe I should have saved that for a moment…well, less close to your near-death-experience. But my point is, Phyllis recognized her own will to act and fight in you, and she recognized it as a good thing. You have helped her accept herself. That is why she succeeded where she failed in the past.
And both you and Obelix, staying with you, she must have really missed her best friend. When she dropped that staff to support you, she chose life instead of revenge. Helping someone towards that choice is… I can't really describe what it means. But it will change things. For Phyllis, for her parents and her sister. For everyone who shares Manilla, Bonny and Phyllis' power. It is hard to estimate the full consequences of everything that transpired in our village for the past weeks. But I am very, very proud of you, Asterix."
Asterix felt somewhat dizzy. "It won't be easy though," he said. "For Phyllis to start over. She can't just pick up again….Marcus is gone." He looked at Getafix. "I saw a Roman turn into his image at the battlefield. I knew from the beginning it was an illusion. And even then I hoped I could keep it from disappearing. I can't imagine what it must have been like for her. She attacked him. She knew it was an illusion but still….I don't think I could have done that in her place"
"Phyllis has had eight years to come to terms with Marcus death. For all the experience you have gained over the years Asterix, you still have to come to terms with the knowledge that some things are irreversible."
Asterix sank back in his pillow, looking slightly defeated. He felt tired again, and he closed his eyes.
"It might not be a completely happy end," Getafix said "But at least there will be a new beginning."