The Despair

August 2, 2011 at 12:01 am (Fantasy, Fiction, medieval, Poetry, Romance, screenplay, short stories, the oracle, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Alan was sitting on a chair next to the bed. He was clenching his hands, as if to pray to the holy mother with his face looking below-like he ever believed in divine forces. Nothing in his life, ever, had made him that desperate. An assassin he was who always found a way to overcome his own fear, but nothing could compare to what he experienced that night, when the moon shone the fullest and the wind blew nothing but chill and frost.

He had worked as an assassin for years, almost half of his life time. He was trained to discriminate the most difficult thing in the world, emotion. He was often inscrutable when he took lives, resembling the messenger of death, which showed neither courtesy nor mercy when taking lives. His quietude and such skill he acquired through years of toils.

He killed never innocent. His targets were of political enemies, or the latest, a monarch.  He distrusted everyone but himself.

But that night, he had changed a lot. He seemed to understand what he really wanted in life-it was not to kill. It was to live normal like everyone else, having no fear to end up in the gallows the next day, having no fear to love and be loved in return, and the most of all, having no fear to meet other people and be appreciated for goodness. He believed that there was still some good inside him that he held onto. But amongst other thing, there was one reason which made all his reasons felt right in every way. It was her, who was lying in comatose on the bed for several days.

That day was the very darkest hour in his life that he admitted he did not know what to do. It frustrated him, no one could cure her. No one knew what happened to her. She breathed, her heart pounded, but yet she was still unconscious.

Alan was contemplating in his quietude. He looked at her innocent face, very unalloyed and beautiful but yet poignant. That was the very first time Alan laid his head on his clenched arms, bowing in solitude, with flowing tears, though his expression was poise. Nothing could really describe how he felt for many vessels in his heart went for a voyage in a raging storm without a happy ending. His heart felt as if it was just being ripped off from his chest and fed to the wolf. He could not bear to even think that she would leave him to depart from mortal world to heaven. Alan knew by heart, if it was God he faced to save her life, he would fight him. His feeling was beyond any wildest joke, for the lady had meant everything to him, though he never said it upfront.  This time, he was helpless. Nothing could be done to save her and he hated waiting.

He was shaking but nobody would notice, he was too smart to hide his emotion.  His mind was screaming and blaming himself. ‘It should’ve been me… not you, it should’ve been me not you’.

He took her hand and held it tight, led it to his mouth and he kissed it, thus kept it near his lips.

A far, behind the door, Edward witnessed the assassin who shed tears, fallen into the midst of despair, though Alan never declared it to none. That tears made Alan, more human.

Edward and Alan never saw eye to eye on everything, for some reason he hated him. For him being an assassin who killed innocence-that’s what was on his mind- which never had place within God’s love. Edward had been raised by couple of fanatic monarch who condemned assassins, just like Templars who blissfully cursed the mages.  He never approved assassins, once a man was one, he would never change.

But there was one thing he could not ignore, that it was supposed to be him she got betrothed to. The grounds were starkly distinguished. He had the most reputable requirement; he was a noble which was the son of the messenger of God. What was stronger than that other than his adorable personality? He was like a son of a saint. What was a royal prince lacking compared to a brutal assassin? Love was given and he could not answer something which was given by God. Edward had to accept defeat to gain young lady’s love-which he hated to admit, but he had to anyway for the greater good-His crew really disliked cold war and they thought, mocking an assassin was a bad omen, they asked Edward to give in his hatred for the safety of his crew.

But by time, Edward had finally lowered his ego, and even more after seeing the tears of an assassin that he thought could never shed tears. He thought, Alan’s heart was made of stainless steel, though hard to penetrate but just now, he realized of how friable it was-a heart of a man. All these time, he had been alienating Alan, thought he was more animal than a being. But then he proved it wrong though he hated to confess. But he couldn’t promise himself, to act differently. Humans were prone to such egoistic pride.

Laura’s comatose had resulted in the despair of all crew, included Edward. But none he could do as Vernus was not at his side anymore. Knowledge of medicine and magic were stranger to him. All these times, he was just trying to prove to his crew that he was a good leader, by looking for witch doctors that could heal Laura, but yet his unavailing searches had not came to an end yet. And by making sure his crew thought that he could do so much, Edward could at least lift his self-esteem in front of Alan- that he was better than him and no man could deserve Laura’s love but him. In the end, it would only result in vain, as Alan never regarded. Thus left Edward felt bad about himself of being childish. Somehow the cold war had to cease. Edward knew that, alas he could not impose when.

Edward went away from peeking into the room, leaving Alan together with his beloved to share the moment of silent.

Edward realized he could not do much in that world he just went in, though so many things he had been through, he was still a stranger and needed more time to settle.  He needed Vernus- that was the gist. If only he was in Norwich, he knew where to go, and who to ask for help. If only he was in Norwich, his crew would heed him more respect for he was a really genuine prince, his leadership was outstanding. If only they were in Norwich, they would know how charismatic Edward could be. They would know how brave he would be, and how the people of Norwich really respected him with all their hearts, for his genuine attitude, generosity and his perseverance for the betterment of the people. Edward was always known as a royal role model. Handsome and just, compassionate and adored by his people, though he lacked strategy. But then again that was if only he was in Norwich, the reality was to cruelly say, that he was in the other world and a different time and he was nothing but a loser. And that time he needed mentor in his life. This fact disheartened him to recall that Vernus had gone missing.

Vernus left Edward with ‘The Oracle’ and its eye.

Edward stood still, transfixed of his idea. Interspersed with his lack of courage and thought, something had lit Edward’s heart with a little bit of hope. The Oracle had eye that could travel everywhere. Everywhere could mean merely everywhere and also in anytime. A ray of light had shone brighter in Edward’s heart, he quickly ran back to the room where Alan was.

‘We go to Norwich!’

Alan was looking at Edward, bewildered.

‘There, we’d have a hope. She will get up and rise again.’

Alan is still looking at him, though now, inscrutable

Edward walked forward, feeling reluctant to implore, but yet he had to do it. ‘But I will need your help.’


Based on a screenplay ‘The Oracle’ by Listya Widyasari





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