Unforgiven

Journal Entry One:

We fought for the King again today. Another loss. More brother’s and friend’s lost because of a brotherly feud. We are to charge the gates again tomorrow. Captain said to “show our force” but there is no force anymore. We are pulling weak bodied men and boys from the villages and fields where the only weapon they ever held was an axe to cut wood.

I cannot do this another day. My body is sore, I am covered in the blood of the people that were closest to me and the people who are my supposed enemies. I have no qualms with these men I am fighting. We are all just following orders in fear of being tried for treason against the King.

I am packing my bags tomorrow. Taking what I need, and leaving. I am not dying for a man who is sitting on his throne and eating tomatoes while listening to a serf sing a ballad. I can’t go home or I will be hanged as a deserter. I will never see my family again. I can live with that. There is no way that I am coming home from this war. I will write when I can.

Journal Entry Two:

I made it out. I took what supplies I could gather. Some food, water, and a change of clothes that were not covered in too much blood. I found a wood and have made camp here. There is a ravine where I washed my clothes. Finally bathing and removing the blood and dirt from my body made this worth it. Keeping a small fire tonight to keep me warm, but not enough for me to get caught.

Journal Entry Three:

I should have walked further the first day. I did not sleep last night in fear of being caught. I was only a few miles from camp. The patrols were too close. They were looking for me. I filled my canteen and am now about to start my hike even further from the camp. I hope I can at least make it to the next city or a farm that will take me in. Even that sounds risky, now that I am writing it out. They could tell the next batch of soldiers that I left. I will write later.

Journal Entry Four:

I do not know where I am anymore. I have walked straight through for four moons. I found a cave along the mountain. I think I will hide out here until I have enough strength to keep going. I have no more money. I drank almost all of my water and there isn’t a stream in sight. That is my goal tomorrow is find food and water. The only food I have left are a few bites of bread. I didn’t think this through enough.

I am far enough away from the battlefield that I do not see anymore patrols. I have not seen a soldier in days. I have seen plenty of wildlife, but I have no means of killing them for food. A rabbit would not fill me anyway.

Journal Entry Five:

I found a river. The water is not clean, but I do not care anymore. It was refreshing. I bathed again and that lifted my spirits that I could make it somewhere. Settle somewhere. Maybe start a farm. Another family. Live a normal life. A life away from war. A life away from famine. A life away from poverty. Barely scraping by as a lowly cobbler.

I miss the family I left behind. I miss the feeling of a full belly. Full of the soup my wife had made with what little food we had. I miss the sound of my child’s laughter. I miss the warmth by the fire. My son falling asleep in my lap while I told him the story of Jack and his magic flute. My wife sitting beside me, brushing our sons golden locks with her worn and tired fingers. I miss the smell of the city, as putrid as it was, I miss it. I miss the sound of women gathering around the stalls buying goods for their families. The sound of men laughing with one another as they down another pint of ale. By the gods do I miss ale. The bitter taste that we all love so much. Nothing can compare to the ale house.

Enough of this wallowing. I made my choice. I was forced into a war I wanted no part of. I wanted to stay with my family. Cherish them. Protect them. I was not going to come back during this constant fighting. Either way, I would have left them alone. I can only feel bad that my wife will forever be known as the woman who was married to a deserter.

Journal Entry Six:

I found a stag today. I prepared it so I have fresh meat for a few days. Tomorrow I will set off. Begin my journey around the mountain. There are no maps that I have seen that tell of what is on the other side of the mountain. It is a fools errand. No one who has left to go around the mountain has come back. Hopefully, there are riches and wonders beyond what I can conceive around this mountain. I can start a new life. That is all I want is to start again. Be happy, drink ale, and eat fresh meat.

Journal Entry Seven:

It took several moons, but I made it around the mountain. This gods forsaken mountain. The tops are covered in clouds. I can only imagine what creature lives up there. Maybe it is the gods. Maybe it is a foul creature who preys on those traveling around his mountain. Maybe a dragon lives up there, covered in gold scales, surrounded by gold and treasure.

I finished off the venison I had on the journey around. There was a spring where I filled my canteen. I made camp in a small cave just as the night began to creep on the horizon. There is nothing out here. Nothing as far as the eye can see. I am beginning to understand why those who traveled around the mountain to make our maps never came back. I would not be surprised to see their bodies laying in the sand.

The fear of what lies beneath me. A sand worm. A sand dragon. Some sort of mutated creature that was once normal but changed due to the harsh environment they live in. I might stay here for a while, checking to make sure there is not some mutated creature living beneath the sand. Once I am sure that there is not, I will travel. Hope I come across a village or a city that is managing to survive out here.

I haven’t even seen any wildlife that I could trap and eat. There is nothing out here. It is barren.

Journal Entry Eight:

I walked for miles and all I could find was sand. The wind blows the sand in every direction, covering my steps. Covering my steps. Covering my steps. Walking in circles. Circles.

There is no water in sight. No water. Nothing. My tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth with how dry it is.

So dry.

So dry.

So much sand.

Nothing.

Barren.

Journal Entry Nine:

Water. Sand. Food. No one. Sand. Sun. Barren. Sand. Sand. Sand.

Please help me.

Journal Entry Ten:

No one. No one. No one. Sand. Only Sand.

I am so sorry, honey. I never should have left. If by a miracle you find this, I love you. I miss you. I am sorry I put you through this. I am going to die out here. Alone. Unloved. Unforgiven.

Journal Entry Eleven:

If you find me, take me home. Sitting in the sand, staring at the sun, I am engulfed in the desert’s parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.

I am sorry.