Tales from the Bosplaat

Liberator of Bosch

Together they stood, on the tallest mountaintop in what was once considered no man's land, looking out over the fields below, that were once again freed from tyranny.
"So, what's next?" Captain Caspar asked, while taking in the view."
Jacob sat down on the ground, running his fingers through the cold, wet grass.
"Whatever you desire, my friend."
Caspar sat down next to Jacob, giving him a somewhat troubled look.
"You don't seem to be as happy about this as the others."
"You've got a keen eye Cap." Jacob let out a sigh. "You and I, I'm afraid our ways part here."
"Why is that?" Caspar asked in a confused tone.
Jacob reached out to Caspar, placing his thumb on his forehead.
"What is..."
Soon Caspar was overtaken by darkness.
"See that?" Jacob's voice echoed through Caspar's head as the darkness slowly faded, revealing a gloomy cave. Two skeletons were sat against the wall, multiple combat knives lodged into various bones.
"That'd be us... in 1489 days. Assuming we don't split up right here, right now."
As Jacob removed his thumb from Caspar's forehead, the dark vision faded.
Caspar stares at Jacob in disbelief of what just happened, but decided not to question it.
"I see."

Caspar gazed over the majestic fields once more.
"So what about you? Where will you be headed now?"
Jacob looked down at the ground, firmly grasping the grass under him.
"Home, or whatever's left of it."
"Where are you from? What happened?"
Jacob sighed. "It's a long story."
"What is time but a concept to give us deadlines?."
Caspar inched closer to Jacob, who scratched his short, dark brown beard.
"I'm from the island of Bosch, ever heard of it?"
"Not that I'm aware, no."
Jacob chuckled. "I figured. It's not very well known these days. Many years ago, Bosch was an island just above the Netherlands, and despite it being significantly smaller, it's military force was significantly more developed than that of it's parent country. That's how Bosch was able to fight for it's independence. Something not many could do at the time.
It was at that point in time that Bosch thrived, expanding it's military forces purely to protect itself. Eventually it became so advanced that they were able to sink a Spanish oil ship that happened to pass by, amassing massive wealth for the small island."
Caspar just sat and listened. It helped that Jacob was a good storyteller.
"Bosch experienced its golden ages, until the war. 1942, during the second world war, the Isle of Bosch started to drift, slowly but surely inching closer to the island of Rottumerplaat.
A fusion was inevitable, yet the Warriors of Bosch did whatever they could to stop it. But what can an army do, against a God?"
Jacob sighed and looked Caspar directly in the eyes for the very first time.
"1959. The darkest year. Bosch, at that point titled Bosplaat, fused with Rottumerplaat. Our own God, Hepasthia, had betrayed us. Many lost their will to fight. I stood there and watched as Bosch was slowly being drowned in the blood of its inhabitants."
Caspar interrupted Jacob. "Hold on a second, you were there? Wouldn't that make you over 80 years old?"
The remark caused another chuckle from Jacob.
"I'm surprised you're still paying attention, keen eye Cap. Indeed I was. I too was a Warrior of Bosch, and the son of Astor, Bosch's ruler. I was born in 1642, long before Bosch was inhabited. My father and I worked hard, but our efforts had paid off."
"Hold on hold on hold on." Caspar interrupted Jacob's story once more. "Are you a God as well?"
"Me? Heh, no. The reason I'm still here is because of an experimental military project. It was commissioned by my father. We all expected he commissioned it for himself, but he wasn't like that. He acknowledged my efforts and decided I was the one who had to lead the Isle of Bosch through it's darkest days. I was both blessed, and cursed with eternal youth."
"You- you're immortal?"
"Not quite. I don't age, physically nor mentally, but I can still be killed, as the vision I showed you earlier indicated."
Caspar stared at Jacob in total silence, wondering what stories the man he thought he knew so well had yet to tell.

"See this?"
Jacob tossed Caspar a copper coin. On the coin Caspar could make out the silhouette of a woman, albeit barely, as for a massive gash ran across the woman's face. It was a miracle the coin hadn't snapped in half yet.
"1959", Caspar whispered.
Jacob nodded.
"Indeed. It was the last coin to ever be made on Bosch before it was torn down by its oppressors." Jacob let out a sigh. "I keep it on me, always."
Caspar tossed the coin back to Jacob, who flicked it up into the air before putting it back in the pocket of his coat.