Where The Spirit Meets The Bone

Forty: Aleksander Morozova

Forty:

Aleksander Morozova

HERE THERE BE GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

He had worked her dress off of her shoulder and was biting it when he heard the noise. The sound of a twig breaking. He froze. So did Alina. He clutched his wife to him. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said.

"Get dressed," he said, "get dressed now."

They got dressed quickly and went to grab their things. "Aleksander," Alina said, panic in her voice, "what's going on? Isn't it just---couldn't it just be an animal? We're in the middle of nowhere. Who could be here?"

He glanced back at her. "I don't know. That's what bothers me."

She looked at him, fear in her eyes, and then her eyes softened. "Aleksander, it's okay. You're here with me. You're not in battle. You're going to be fine. There's no one----" her voice was cut off at the sound of a gunshot. There was movement in the woods. Alina jumped and he could see her going to scream. He covered her mouth.

He looked directly at her. "On the count of three," he mouthed. He had no idea if she understood. But she had to trust that she did. He silently mouthed one kruge....two kruge....three kruge.....

He saw the shooters off in the distance. Fjerdian soldiers. Come to catch Ravkas General in a quiet moment with his new wife. He shoved Alina off of him, shouting, "Run!"

Alina was up, scrambling, running for dear life.

He got up, started to run, and paused. There was a knife in his shoe. He had them put into all of them. He had to get to it. There was another one in the lining of the sports coat that he had on. If he could only get to it, throw it directly at the men that were after them----

"Aleksander!" she called.

He could hear the men running after them. There were two of them with guns, shooting. But Alina was calling him. "Aleksander!" she was screaming, fear on her face. He had seen fear on soldiers faces before. But this was different.

This wasn't a soldier. This was his wife.

Hadn't he spent years being on the battlefield being brave? Fighting? Wasn't the right thing to do for him to run and protect his wife? But he kept on flashing back to the battlefield, soldiers chasing after soldiers, the blood, the dirt and the grime.....

"Aleksander!!!!!"

She called, and he started to run. He could hear them gaining on them. The gun shots. "Run!" he shouted at her. "RUN!"

Then there is a bullet piercing his skin. It's his shoulder, but it's enough that he crumpled to the ground. Alina was running to his side. That was the las thing that he wanted. "NO! Alina NO!"

Then there was----well all at once there was darkness. Darkness, and shadow, and the sunny afternoon picnic that they had been enjoying was suddenly covered in nightmares and blood.

His vision was going in and out, in and out. He saw Alina coming towards him in slow motion, calling his name. "Aleksander!"

Then there was another gun shot. In the midst of the pain, and the swirling darkness, he heard screams. But they weren't his own. Or Alina's. They were the soldiers, yelling in Fjerdan as they seemed to be running away from something. Aleksander saw, through the darkness, Alina. Brilliant, lit up like the sun. She lit up the entire field.

She was bright, wonderful. Then the light dimmed, as if swallowed by shadow. She was no longer shining. She crumpled to the ground. "Alina!" he called out. "Alina!" But there was no one to listen.

The field grew very quiet. Still. Then very dark. He wanted to be in the sunlight again. To be with Alina. To bathe in the same sunlight that had come from within her. The field was fading, Alina was fading, everything was fading. The old soldier song his father had taught him danced in his mind.

"Between myth and blood, you'll see me,

Between bullet and magic, you'll see me,

Soldier to soldier, shoulder to shoulder,

Magic to make us rise, and bullets to ruin you

And when we have our victory,

We'll dance at the Kings ball, you and me, our love eternal you will see..."

It wasn't the song dancing in his mind. There was a woman's voice singing it. An old woman. A voice he knew. If only he could focus long enough to remember whose voice it was. Everything was a fog.

He needed to get back to the field. He needed to get back to Alina. He didn't know where he was anymore. All he knew was that there was pain, that he hurt. He needed his wife. He needed the sun. His sun.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey....p-p-p-please don't d-don't take my sunshine away..."

You'll never know dear how much I love you.......

It was growing colder. Darker. The pain more intense than it had been when the bullet first pierced skin. "Aleksander!" someone called. "Aleksander!"

That voice. He knew that voice. It was her. His sunshine. His Alina. "Alina!" he bolted upright, breathing heavily, and he found himself in the bedroom of his country estate. His mother sat in a chair across from the bed.

"Welcome back, my son," she said with a knowing smile, "I knew no bullet could kill you. But the question is, have you remembered?"

"Remembered?" his brow furrowed. "Mother, we were in the woods.... Alina and I were attacked by enemy soldiers---what do you mean, remember?"

Baghra frowned. "I thought perhaps the violence would do the trick. We have work to do, so it would seem. Don't worry, I'll make you remember."

"Remember what?"

His mother smiled. "Everything, my dear boy. Everything."