Midnight Charades

The Arch

The Agha was chasing Osman -who had fled his afternoon training session- when he discovered the arch. The arch stood alone, detached from any structure and devoid of any clear direction, it did not face the open sea, nor the oncoming green field, it stood as if shouldering it, there was no path that led to it, had there been its existence was unknown or long gone, only a few stones lay scaffolding off the edge but they were not of a similar fashion to the stone of the arch so the Agha was unsure what to make of it. It's the eerie way you decide not to wander through an arch, although common sense tells you that if you'd pass through it you'd simply end up on the other side of it, in exactly the same place you passed through it. There was no other logic to it, yet for some reason, the Agha steered clear of it, something held him back from passing through, it wasn't haunted, but it wasn't safe either. It did not look as if it would fall on him, but he had a feeling that was he to pass through it he'd come out a changed man. He scanned the plain for Osman and when he did not see him he passed by the arch to go further ahead, keeping a great distance between himself and the arch.

The notion of coming out a changed man turned the Agha away but it was exactly the reason Osman had walked through the arch. He avoided training, he saw no purpose. What was the point he bitterly told himself, he'd learned to use a sword, and then what? He'd still lost everything, he could not protect himself, no instead he'd had to be saved by the mercy and pity of the women of the Harem and his father, the former sultan's closest guard. Osman bridled not at those who had taken everything from him, but at himself for not stopping them. No one had taken the time to tell the boy, that he was a boy, a child, he was not a fighter and he was not less of a person for not being one, boys who were children should not have to fight to save themselves and their family, and if they must, it's only the cruel world that brings them to it and there is no justice in that. But no one told him this, not that anyone saw fit not to, it was simply his misfortune that he was not around anyone for who his emotional well-being was of any matter beyond his mental and physical. So for Osman, he walked towards the arch as if drawn towards it, the arch was a promise of a miracle, his slow steps broke into a hesitant walk as he thought what if he were disappointed? What if he walked through the arch and nothing happened? He was a child used to disappointment, but he was also used to hope somewhere deep within him, for every child's innocence and purity is a magic in itself that transpires the drudgery of life. He held his breath and passed through, feeling a squeezing feeling in his stomach and as if the air had been punched out of his lungs, and arrived on the other side.