For the rest of my life

As Vipsanius opened the locket, the voice from inside rang loud and clear.  

„Please, please, remember me when I’m gone“ 

The feminine voice sounded breathless, teary, and almost desperate. After a second came a response. 

„Of course I will. For the rest of my life“ 

This one was well known to everyone gathered around Vipsanius in witnessing this decisive moment. The voice was his own, gruff but always level. Only, in these words it had a tone they had never heard before – frail, choked up, almost sobbing. Falling apart.  

The words from the locket fell on them like a tree falling deep in the forest – with a groundbreaking rumble and then… complete deafening stillness. As if all the rest of the woods held their breath to see if the noise brings any danger, unsure of how to proceed. Everyone looked to their steadfast leader, who now seemed so small and defeated, with his head hung low, hiding his face from the gentle blue light emanating from the locket. It floated at a chest level, waiting patiently. Having delivered the prescribed message, it had nothing left to do but await further instructions.  

After what felt like an eternity of shock, uneasy shuffling and questioning looks, there came a quiet voice from the crowd. 

- …Vipsanius? 

Hearing that seemed to break the spell, as the man lifted his head with a sharp inhale. 

- Yes. – he exhaled – Yes. What is it, Sam? 

- Well… – the young boy looked around into all the eyes holding the same questions – Was that… your voice? 

Vipsanius sighed. 

- Yes, dear boy. That was me. 

- And… the other one? 

- That… - for a second, Sam thought he saw a wet glimmer in the village leader’s eyes, before the man blinked it away – That, dear boy, was my mother. 

Murmurs erupted in the crowd. The leader never talked about his family, where he came from, or ever really about his past. As far as they knew, he’s always been here, running the inn. Always willing to listen, never turning down requests for help, trouble big or small. He wasn’t even really their leader – everyone just effortlessly trusted his judgment. So far it never failed. He always seemed to know what to do.  

But this time was different. When news started reaching them about an army marching from the mountains burning everything in their way, Vipsanius began acting… strange. Where he usually was steady and focused, now he was unsure, like he couldn’t gather his thoughts. His absent eyes running away into the distance in the middle of conversations and during his regular chores. Except for when messengers came. They had his undivided attention.  

- They crossed the Great River! – the redhead was almost falling of his horse, which looked no less tired. 

- Mirko, great heavens! – Vipsanius ran to the younger man and helped him off – Come here, are you alright?  

- I’m fine, I’m fine. 

- Jill, bring the boy some water! You said the armies have crossed the River? Where are they now? 

- The Smiths – Mirko gasped as he was gently sat down on a bench – Lakeside is already gone. Burned to the ground. Only a couple families managed to escape into the woods. But they were hunted down too, every last one. 

Vipsanius’ eyes darkened while he knelt in front of the bench, to get on the messenger's eye level. Before he could say anything, the women came running back carrying a ceramic pitcher. 

- Thank you Jill, capable as always. Now please go and ready a room for our guest. -  he turned back to the young man in front of him, giving him the water – Drink boy. Now, how large are these armies?  

- Huge – the redhead spat between gulps – At least five times as many as at the largest town market. I’ve never seen so many people in my life! 

- Ah. You’re right, that is huge – the older man stood up, with a bit more difficulty than usual, as if under a weight – You did well my boy. Now go rest, the room is waiting for you.  

With every new update that came, Vipsanius spent more and more time behind his inn, sitting alone and looking into the sky. Noone dared to bother him, even though his comforting presence was much needed in the village. When he finally called the people to gather, everyone obeyed with anxious hope. He will know what to do. Vipsanius always knows what to do.  

But when they found him in the square, sitting on a lonely stump, he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. As everyone finished coming in, he rose up and began speaking. With a gravely expression, he told them that there is a way to save their village. Their lives. And that it was the only way he could see. But it was dangerous. Far too dangerous to consider it lightly. And that they had to make the decision for themselves. He couldn’t do it without their permission.  

And so, of course the people of the village chose to trust their leader. The gravity of his speech scared them, but no more than the prospect of war and fire consuming their whole world. And if Vipsanius said he didn’t see another way, they believed him. Whatever it was, it had to be done.  

Hearing their decision, Vipsanius sigh deeply. It almost seemed like he hoped they wouldn’t make that choice. But he knew better than anyone that they had to. He reached into his pouch and took out a small locket. It was silver, set with small blue stones in swirling lines. As he held it in his open palm, it began to levitate, rising to the level of his chest. And then he opened it. 

***

- Your mother…? What happened to her? 

Vipsanius sat back down on the stump, more pushed down by gravity than by his own strength. After a long pause, he started speaking. 

- When I was young, I had… a power. A magic. Amazing, and unnatural. And powerful. I could level trees with a single flick of my hand. Set fires with just my sight. Bring on a storm with a word. But it was wild, couldn’t be fully controlled. So amazing was this power, I thought myself invincible. I was arrogant and reckless. When I heard there was a war in our lands, I thought I had to take part. I started raiding the enemies’ camps, laying waste, burning everything I could see, crushing tens of hundreds of soldiers under rockslides and hail. I felt like a god, unstoppable. But the enemy didn’t take lightly to such destruction. They organized and traced my steps back home. One day when I returned, the whole village was on fire. Soldiers everywhere, chasing my family, my friends, everyone I knew. And most of them could have escaped. I could have helped them, be cautious and pick them off one by one to put in a safe spot, hide until the danger has passed. But I was proud, and they had hurt the people I loved. I had to punish them, stop them immediately. In my rage I brought down disasters on a scale yet unseen. Noone could have escaped me. And it wasn’t until I was done, that I realized… no one could have escaped. My family was there, among the soldiers who came after them. Everyone I knew was there. Under the rubble, in the ashes, lying in puddles. Noone escaped. By a feat of luck, I found my mother. She was still alive, but the life was quickly draining out of her. She was scared. In pain, she asked me to remember her. The last thing she ever heard was my promise. I spent days going through the rubble and burying everyone I could find. My family, my friends, all the people I knew in my life. And the soldiers, whatever was left of them. After I finished, I set out into the world and never came back. After a while I settled here. Opened an inn. Found some peace. And here you all know me. 

After his words, the silence was even deeper than the last one. Some people terrified, some moved, some so shocked they couldn’t even begin to know how they felt. But again there came a lone voice, to ask a question everyone was thinking. 

- But you don’t have any powers now? I’ve never seen you do anything magical. And there were many times it could have been useful. 

- You’re right John, I don’t. Before I left the ruins of my village, I sealed away my power. It’s bound in this locket and I vowed to never use it again. If… if I ever got tempted, I set myself a message. The last words I spoke with my mother. To remind me of the consequences this power brings. 

He let his face fall into his hands. He couldn’t stand the gazes of his people. Not after what they just heard.  

There wasn’t a single word said. Only a hand, slowly reaching out to rest on the old man’s shoulder. And after it, another one. And then Vipsanius felt only hands, warm, trusting hands of his people. And the tears that burned his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He couldn’t change the past. But they trusted him. And he would take care of them. For the rest of his life.