The Fantasy of Peace

It was a quiet and calm day, just as all the other days that week, or that month or year for that matter. Some people would call this a boring way of life. Yet for him, it was the only way. He would spend most of his days alone. Reading, writing and talking to himself in his cabin, or near the lake. Once in a while he would make an appearance in the village nearby, to buy books or stock up on food that his own farm did not provide. Although the people of the village recognized him during his rare public appearances, they knew nothing of him. They were completely ignorant of the amounts of wisdom he had collected after years and years of his adventurous and dramatic life. It is this wisdom that caused this transition of lifestyle for him, and now, nothing beside it remains.

He had just sat down near the lake after his hour writing, when he heard a faint sound in the distance. He was too far away from the village for any sound to reach him. The realization of this shortly interrupted his thinking and he went back to his usual peace and quiet. After about a minute another interruption caused by a realization occurred, the sound was coming closer. Although his days of curiosity were behind him, he quickly took the time to identify the sound, it was the sounds of hooves on ground. Suddenly his instincts from his previous life returned and he quickly stood, ready and alert. He instinctively reached towards his left hip to unsheathe his sword. When his hand grabbed air a wave of embarrassment flew over him. He sighed deeply and sat back down. He did not often meditate for he had no trouble finding peace and quiet. Yet he concluded that now was a right time for this method of peace and self reflection. He started to listen to the sounds around him, the birds chirping, the water flowing, the wind blowing through the plants, a horse galloping, footsteps from a man wearing armor, a familiar voice. Once again the peace and quiet were interrupted and a piece from his old life returned. He tried to ignore that old familiar voice shouting his name, yet he could not return to his state of tranquility. A second wave of embarrassment flew over him for not being able to keep his peace when interrupted. He threw away his embarrassment and realized that he had more things to work on, and that the only possible reaction was to face his interruption head on. He stood up and walked in the direction of a familiar voice. When he arrived he did not say a word, he merely attentended to his garden, yet he still listened and eventually spoke back.

FC: We need you.

He remained silent.

FC: We need you for the war.

P: The only thing you need for war is peace.

FC: which we will achieve if you help us win.

P: Our definitions of victory are a lot different.

FC: What’s yours?

P: There being no war at all.

FC: If we win there won't be for decades.

P: Then win.

FC: We can't without your help.

P: Success needs preparation, if you depend on me for it, you clearly were not properly prepared.

Finally he looks at him.

P: It seems you were doomed for the start.

FC: Perhaps you were part of the preparations.

P: You would start a war on such a small chance.

FC: So there is a chance

P: No.

P: Yet you wouldn't be here if you didn't think there was.

FC: I have no idea what to think.

P: Of course you don't.

FC: So tell me

P: Tell you what?

FC: What to think.

P: I just told you, there is no chance.

FC: No, I heard you. Tell me Why.

P: No, I don’t think you did hear me, because I clearly just told you the only true victory is peace.

FC: That is merely what you are saying.

P: That is generally what people do when they believe something to be true.

FC: You used to believe something different.

P: That was not me.

FC: Then what happened to the man who sought only glory, glory through victory of an opponent.

P: There is no greater glory than the victory over oneself to achieve peace.

FC: You sound boring, the old you would punch you to sleep.

P: The old me is dead.

FC: Yet his body stands perfectly intact In front of me.

P: A dead body on a stick would do the same.

FC: But it wouldn't move, it wouldn't kill, kill like you once did.

P: If this is your best attempt to convince me, you are a worse diplomat then I remembered, you merely embarrasse me about my past.

FC: A past you seemed to so vividly remember.

P: My last sentence proves I clearly don't.

The familiar voice ignored him.

FC: Don't you want to go back to that past. That time of Glory and greatness.

P: I need not turn back the pages to read the chapter of which I already know the end.

FC: As long as this war continues we have not nearly reached the end.

P: I am not a part of this we, you speak of.

FC: Yes you are. You have been from the start, you can't change that whenever you desire.

P: This house is the clear proof I can.

FC: My presence here is the clear proof you can't.

P: As long as I say no it is.

FC: Then say yes

P: I have no desire to.

FC: Then what do you desire?

P: Like I said, peace.

FC: Is this peace only reserved for yourself?

Not for the people of the country you once served?

P: They do, although I am not responsible for it.

FC: ‘You can also commit injustice by do nothing’

Is that not what you told me?

P: You ask me to help kill thousands of people to achieve your false definition of victory, is that justice?

FC: From what I remember you never completely figured out what justice was, or did this so-called peace enlighten you?

P: No, it is true, I do not yet know what justice truly means, but I do know for sure it is not what you ask of me to do.

FC: Saving thousands of your people from war?

P: Saving thousands by killing thousands.

‘An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.’

FC: Clearly you are the blindest of them all.

They fell into a tense silence.

FC: You always told me ignorance was the root of all vice, yet here you are,

blissfully ignorant. No matter what these books might tell you.

P: You attempt to justify war, there is no better example of ignorance.

FC: When me and your old family lie dead in the mud, tell me who's more ignorant then.

He turned around, climbed on his horse and rode away. He watched as he saw his past once again leave him. He would forever hear the sound of the hooves slowly fading away.

Even though he knew he committed no injustice and remained true to his peace, he still felt guilt. He would always feel guilt. It seemed no matter the decision he made that day, he would never return to peace he so desired.