Short stories

Farewell in the Twilight

''Don't weep, mother'', Alexios said. As the warm tears were rolling down her old cheeks, he held her tightly. She had no one else. Not since father died on the walls above the Golden Gate, a few weeks ago. Many more shared his fate.

She looked him into the eye, her green ones locking with his brown eyes. 'You go, my boy. You go and make all your ancestors proud.' As she hung an icon of the patron saint of their village around his neck, she kissed him on his forehead. 'Show those Ottoman dogs what real Romans are made out of.' She forced a smile, but her lips were shaking. Alexios' chest hurt. He was surprised he had survived 7 weeks of constant pain, hunger, bombardment, sickness and death. And now he was here. As the sun was setting, he strapped on his armour, his mother helping him. The sun rays reflected on the lammelar, off his helmet that rested on the small wooden table, off his sword that had slain many foes of Christ.

All over the city torches were being lit, and the sound of the running booted feet of the defenders was accompanied by the toll of the bells of the countless churches and monasteries, almost as if reminding the soldiers of their unavoidable deaths. Alexios walked through the front door, inhaling the air corrupted by smoke and the smell of death. He turned around, kissed his mother. She started crying again, hugged him tight. But he had to go. Around the corner came a company of men, running towards his sector of the walls. He gently dried the tears of his mother with his finger, then turned around and joined the file, going towards his final destination. He didn't look back. There was one person however he had to visit. He had tried every single time he went to battle. She never responded. He hoped she would now.

He silently slipped into an alley. This could be mistaken for desertion, but it was something he had to do. The church bells seemed to sound even louder, as if God himself knew what he did. Of course He knew.

He turned a corner, sprinted ahead. The streets were deserted, except for some rats that quickly crossed his path. Rounded another corner, hid for some Venetians who where clumsily putting on their armour on the run, and then he finally was there, in front of a small house. A place filled with memories. Her place.

He crossed the street, looked up at the shut windows.

'Anna!', he shouted. He tried again. No answer. 'Anna, please', he tried yet again. 'I have my armour on, my sword on my side. The Ottomans are coming. I might meet my death tonight. Please, please listen to me, only now!'

As the church bells were tolling and the caws high up in the sky were singing their dark songs, it was the silence of her house that weighed down on him most.

'Anna, I know you can hear me', he said confidently. 'I know we have wronged each other: I know you're hurt. But I don't- I don't want us to part like this. Not like this!'

He stepped forward. 'Anna, I don't have much time. I know you probably hate me for what I did. But I want you to know- please, just- I want you to know I still care about you, by God! You still have the key to my heart, and it's locked now, for you. Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that the last word that escaped my lips was your name, and I'll think about your face to give me courage and strenght- because you're the one girl in this city I'd give my life for to protect. I just...' It became too much. The lump in his throat halted his speech. '...I just want you to know I love you, Anna. I always have', he said his head resting on her door. It probably was the wind, but a tear escaped his eye. He gently stroked the wood of the door he passed so many times, turned around. As he looked towards the sunset one last time, he marched away, to his post.

The sounds of bars being removed, the scratching of wood on wood. Alexios was halted in his pace. He didn't want to look back. Where was his courage now? But he did. And there, in front of the house, stood she, tears lighting up by the sunset, her hair seeming like it was ablaze. The sound of metal on stone resounded through the street as he dropped his shield and weapons without a second thought. He saw her lips moving, but didn't hear a thing as he ran towards her and wrapped his armoured arms around her. She let it happen and just sobbed. There they stood, two souls lost in a doomed city. The smell of her hair, the form of her body in his arms. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. He couldn't help himself from tearing up. She hugged him as well, and when they finally looked each other in the eye, it was as if the misery and fear from the past weeks had never been present at all, as if they still lived in the height of the Byzantine Empire. They struggled to find words but they weren't needed. As if their faces were drawn to each other by an otherworldy force, their lips met in the centre, and all the happiness from back then was exchanged in one, long kiss.

Alexios looked at Anna. Anna looked at Alexios. They knew everything had been forgiven, for in desperate hours, humans tend forget quickly. Alexios picked up his helmet, kept looking at his love, at her red face, her eyes.

Her eyes.

She loosened the green scarf she always wore. What a joy it had been to watch it twist and twirl whenever she was dancing at a party. Now, however, it would be twisting and twirling because of the slashing movements of his arm, for she attached the item to it.

'Make sure it's tight', Alexios said with a cracked voice. She only nodded, fought back the tears. When it was done, Alexios wanted to go, but Anna grabbed him by his arm, and gave him one last intimate kiss, before they disconnected in the twilight.

His left arm found his shield, his sword was picked up by the other. First he looked at her green blessing, then at her, her blue dress fluttering in the evening breeze. He slowly turned around, and went, went to the Gate of Charixios, which had been his post throughout this whole nightmare. But tonight, it would end.

Tonight, he would wake up.