* Dawn of the seventh day, the wind and the sand that polish my face have not stopped in 4 days, the horizon, infinite and static, seems the dream of death that looks at me with its amber dunes ... I look at it and beg of it please finish it all. *
I do not know how much I have walked on these sands, nor do I know what drives me to continue doing it, I think the only thing that remains of me are the biological impulses that force me to continue breathing and to take, necessarily, one more step.
Emptiness, total emptiness. What else can be left within the spirit of a man after having seen each and every one of his moral pillars fall, his convictions, his ideas destroyed, his ego, his pride. All gone.
What will my enemies have thought in his last breaths, have they died with their convictions still intact? Have they transcended to a better and new life? Have they been forgiven by their loved ones?
I have seen them in the eye, I have seen them scream, and in some I have seen what most try to hide, the horror and fear. And I have seen them go, they slowly faded like a star... Now they are not different from the rocks that abound on the rugged regions of Montañara, I would like to think that they became part of those long yellowish stones, at least they would serve a natural and undisputed purpose, that of being part of the imposing mountain.
It is the nature of our own creation that enjoys crushing the happiness we find, we love to destroy, hatred and anger have spread throughout all the systems in which we inhabit. It is a disease, a plague that we cannot control and we transmit to those who do not yet have it, to perpetuate the cycle of death with which we were born.
An absurd struggle against what we do not want to understand or do not want to hear. Suffice it to tell the other that his flag is crap to murder entire families.
* In the distance, a great sandstorm begins to form... It will not be long in coming. A few rocks that I remember passing seem to be my best option. *
This great greenish sky that reddish sun, how can it be that I have never paid attention to such an admirable and splendid landscape... Simply beautiful. I wish this view is the last thing I can see before I go.
But everything that goes through my head over and over again, like an emergency broadcast that repeats endlessly until someone turns it off... The voices of those emissaries. The Lord Henrique of our town telling me to obey. They took all the men and women they could, some proud to serve the great council of elders, others, like me, who was totally indifferent to what these old men might want, because there I already had a family to defend, the pride of serve a ruthless but fair fellow, friends to fight for. At least I had them, it was just after I got on that Correo that I saw a formation of Preatorians drop firebombs, and see the chaos of the fighting unleash completely. Motionless from the orbiting ship, the explosions became mere flashes until they stopped.
In our lands, and throughout this planet we have always been very simple, either you obey or you get shot in the head with a rifle. One or zero, it has always been that way.
I remember the screens in the northern capital, and the elders speaking on them, saying that it was time to take back what belongs to us… To us?. They gave each of us a PDA, and left us there, in a camp, waiting for instructions…
** The storm has started, I huddle as best I can between the rocks and try to cover myself with what little I have, while the deafening noise of the wind surrounds me completely... that noise... **
Not even the engines of more than 50 Titans sounded so loud. Those Hessian bastards and those Coalition traitors had never been so scared. The commanding view of the Fez from my Centurion was scary enough to ***** on your pants. So much technology invested for one purpose: To destroy. I was assigned to squad 3 under the command of a Northerner, a certain Di Lorenzo, proud and well groomed ready to die for any whim of those old men. Behind me, ten colleagues with whom I had shared that Correo cargo bay. We became close, we promised to take care of each other and, if possible, to return.
Taking the base and the planet seemed easy... But ramming the Coalition Battleship was just stupid.
Now I remember... The loudspeaker, yelling about courage and honor, of eternal glory, of a possible return wrapped in laurels. They sent us with the first wave of bombers directly towards the base, in the distance, the great coalition ship looked like a fiery honeycomb, releasing fighters from all its hangars. I told Di Lorenzo that our best option was to decoy, take everyone we could into the Walker Nebula and lose them. His response was "Obey Soldier" and I saw his burning ship crashing into a defense platform. On the radio, foreign and local voices mingled in what appeared to be a symphony orchestrated by death itself. Behind me the Fes was being rammed by waves of ships and long-range weapons from the Coalition ship.
Eight of us were fit to come to her aid, but the Captain's answer was "No."
The base in orbit had exploded into pieces and the remaining defenders were on the run... Immediately and without hesitation we returned to Fes, and amid the scolding of a senior Fes officer we went to his aid, on the way, we intercepted a squad of coalition bombers approaching to an uncovered flank, having followed that route, today the Fes would only be a monument to the human stupidity that characterizes us. But the story is another.
We returned to Crete and once there we were accused of treason for disobeying direct orders. All this senseless circus had already been enough and standing in front of the small court I told them to execute me and have mercy for the lives of my friends. Seven shots, seven bodies to the floor... I remember that gray concrete floor with a hole in the middle through which the blood on their heads dropped.
-"And for you!" - One of the elders told me -"The exile!"-
- "But don't worry, you won't last more than 5 days"- He said.
They blindfolded me, beat me, and woke up in the sand.
** The storm intensifies, the wind drags me down the sand hill... The sand covers me, I begin to sink, I desperately try to get out, I cannot see, everything turns dark... I see total darkness. I’m glad this is over, finally… Amigos mios, embrace me and forgive me.**
- "Mahla! Mahla!"
- "hal 'ant ealaa qayd alhayaat?"
** In a dream, a man wrapped in dark clothes talks to me and wet my face with water, I can't understand what he says, but I follow him... **
** I open my eyes with difficulty... I'm still alive. **
- "Welcome to the Oasis foreigner, where are you from?"
- "Montañara region, who are you?"
- "We are people of the desert, an explorer saw a hand protrude from the sand and we found you barely breathing. Ah Sureño, a caravan has recently returned from there, someone has managed to unite the region, now they are a unified empire."
** I take a deep breath, I feel like the blood begins to flow through my body **
-"Who?"- I asked.
- "A certain Henrique. Look! There goes his fleet" – The old man signaled with his finger.
* Raising my head I see a Praefect cruiser escorted by Titans and Centurions. *
Suddenly I remember... I remember the old man making the gesture for the execution, I remember the Fes official who thanked me and then betrayed us as if we were a danger to his promotion... I remember my friends, my family, I remember my house, the little bushes that seemed to grow out from under the bricks.
I remember the old man... I remember him. And I'll keep remembering it, until the day comes and I can finally become one with the mountain.