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This is my entry for the @tristancarax’s 31 Sentences contest, round 21
Everywhere it was said that Ararat was the safest country's place. But it was not only for the strongest walls ever built, but also owing to the duke Orlando II battle skills', a title granted by his beloved king. His dexterity obliterated the territory’s enemy hordes. The past darkness would not eclipse Ararat ever.
Never again.
Orlando came from a very ancient lineage of renowned representatives of royalty. He called himself the blue-blooded one; it was even said that God himself had granted him his immortality in the battle by exterminating everything in his path.
A fantasy subjugated by the effects of a plague, sent from hell itself, which undermined the hundreds of soldiers he led. Brigade called Arm of God.
But he didn’t perish from the disease; his iron willpower made him immune from the pest. Driven mad by the fever, he murdered all his generals and lieutenants on seeing them as enemies; thus decimating his regiment’s power.
Fleeing from his opponents, he collapsed into a river that dragged him to a humble woman's home. Kindly used to help, she healed and saved him.
He admired her wisdom, passed down from generations, from mother to mother; he also understood blood was red in everyone, even in himself. Lamentably, misfortune dawned one earlier morning; surprised and outraged, Orlando found the woman kneeling before the pagan god.
He had been deceived and confused by sweet and kind words; eyes glanced for the last time at dawn when anger drove the steel of his sword through her chest.
"How satirical my ending"
"Cowardly murder by a frightened knight"
Certainly, he was rescued by a squadron from the shire and returned safely to Ararat; but, perversely, those words were engraved eternally in his mind.
Reminiscences.
His life went on and as usual time passed, but words never fade. They tormented him and he began to discern and abhor some sacred doctrine's practices he defended with his sword; had suddenly doubted his faith?
One afternoon, among his belongings, an unknown book was found tied with a familiar ribbon. It was hidden inside a saddlebag, which didn't recognize it at first but abruptly remembered receiving it from her. Shook and despite his reluctance, he discovered that her faith was not unlike his; it was even possible their beliefs might even have some common ground.
Challenged with this revelation, he decided to confirm his suspicions in the books hidden by the dogma’s authorities he worshiped. His frustration peaked when he confirmed that both religions were children of the same belief and God he served, somewhere in history priesthood conveniently decided to divide it along with humanity.
Ararat's great walls fell as soon as Orlando went away. The safety and future of the region would no longer be in his care. Both the world and he needed to open their eyes to a new illumination that could only come through the atonement of sins and sadly the shedding of blood.
Words finally faded.
If you want to participate in this challenge go to:
@tristancarax/the-31-sentence-contest-round-21
PS: I never read Virginia Woolf's Orlando. It was until now that I knew the story or at least its synopsis. Maybe someday I can read the whole thing. However, the image made me create this story, obviously, just like Orlando, my story is influenced by world history.
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