“The first is a pittance, knowledge grows, entangled preserved ignorance, punishment sowed” - Translated from the Second and Third appointed envoys.
Balver, or Bal as his so-called friends would call him, was nine. He had finally resolved himself to the idea that he might not be completely crazy. He really did remember his past life.
In the life he remembers, he wasn't anything exciting compared to his peers. Overall, it was rather normal, and he had lived to be an elder of the island. He had reached the age of 47, spending 18 years in that position, dying before the 48th spring. Now though, while he may not have traveled beyond the large island his tribe inhabited in his last life, everything seemed like a different world from that of his memories.
Putting aside that the people here had lighter skin and a different language, there were two deities of light in the above. Teshuva and Greshea as the people here called them. In his last life, there was only one light in the sky.
Bal was an angry baby. Wailing constantly out of frustration, confusion, and general misunderstandings. His pride from his previous life was trampled on continuously as he was force-fed nasty food, which was seldom meat, and put into different positions while things were going on around him.
It took Bal until he was two and a half years old to figure out the language spoken to him and began to speak some himself. By then, he had suffered enough and gained a sort of understanding that he had not only died but was reborn. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no real connection to his past life that he could find for now. Eventually, he kept the memories in his heart and slowly began to do something he had thought about in his later years prior.
Enjoy life more as a kid.
Bal got up to all kinds of shenanigans running around the village he was currently in with a few others. He was just as curious about the new world as them since everything was so different here.
Time slowly passed and soon Bal became an adult in the village. He was 14 and could go hunting with the olders, to which he was excited. It was the one thing that was most similar to his past life. People would head out to hunt animals or gather plants and berries to feed the rest of the village.
It was on this trip that Bal was confident in his skills as he held his new spear given to him. Full of energy to show off his skills and bring back food. Grasping the spear in hand and armed with memories of taking down other animals in a hunt, Bal couldn’t help but relive some of his past successes in his mind as the group of four walked out and away from the village.
Sometime later, Bal had run ahead of the group farther than he had ever been and found a water source. He wanted to show the others how great he was at hunting.
Squatting near the little creak, he had chosen a spot with line of sight of a well-worn path. It was obviously left from animals coming to and from the stream to drink when needed. And so, he waited for about an hour holding still and remaining silent.
As he waited, the anticipation of returning with food for the village played over and over in his mind. The waiting was always dull, but he knew it would be worth it when he succeeded.
It was at the end of an hour, Bal was surprised that he noticed movement up the stream and a slight smile appeared on his face. It only lasted a moment though as he soon saw a man walking into view a little upstream.
As he had tuned out most other ambient noises like the slight babble of the tussling water, Bal felt a bit of annoyance arise as he could clearly hear the rustling of more bushes as a few other people appeared. These other people would drive away any prey that he might catch today.
Bal had not seen them before or anything like what they were wearing so he chose to stay hidden in hopes they would leave. Having watched the group quickly fill the water holders, Bal frowned as they all seemed to stand there talking fairly loudly to each other. Who knew what they wanted or how long they would stay, there were stories in his current village of outsiders killing most of their hunting group before.
Unfortunately, the group didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving any time soon as a couple of people in their group had left and returned to the others. Bal waited, ever patient for another hour before finally deciding to sneak away in retreat. After turning away and taking a few steps out of position, he heard a voice yell out, and another, and another.
Figuring he was found out, Bal made his decision. Forcing his legs to work their hardest after holding a squatting position for so long did not feel comfortable. It didn’t matter though as having stiff limbs was the only downside to hiding away quietly and concealing himself for a hunt.
Bal's steps were well placed among the forested debris as he began to step away from his hiding spot. Trying to escape as swiftly and silently as possible, he reached only ten steps before running into something unseen and rebounded, falling back.
Squinting with one eye at the sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches above, Bal saw a man block part of his view casting a shadow over him. They were holding a knife, and across their face, Bal recognized a revealing expression from his past life as the edge of their lips twisted up with malice.
Bal pushed himself back and up as fast as he could. The man remained motionless except for the eyes trained on him as Bal sprang to his feet, adding distance between them.
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Losing his senses, Bal seemed to forget there was more than just one as he backed into another person. Before he could even turn around to look, everything faded to black with a pang of pain on his head.
-
Bal came too in a daze. His head throbbed in pain and his wrists felt like they were being squeezed so hard it hurt. Along with an offbeat cadence of bumps rattling him around, he knew whatever situation he was in now wasn’t good.
Realizing his arms were tied behind his back, Bal blearily opened his eyes only to be met with a dark beige that he couldn’t bring his eyes into focus on. The light that sept through the rough fibers of the cloth restricted any chances of seeing what was going on.
Bal let out a light groan through his parched lips, only to be met with a new language he didn’t understand. It sounded like it was from just a short distance in front of him.
Another pain in his body announced itself as he bounced around, rubbing his shoulder ever more raw. He was leaning against something hard and coarse as the gravity of his situation and his bound position held him in place.
He caught more of the strange language between three different voices as he attempted to adjust to the new situation. Soon, he felt the continual push and pull of his weight in one direction come to a halt.
Not knowing what was going to happen next and helpless to do much about it, Bal lay there, bound. As he listened to movement around him, he let his mind drift while every so often the feeling of whatever he was resting in shifted in one direction or another to remind him of his captivity.
Eventually, Bal heard a man’s voice a lot closer to him than before. They were yelling something at him. He had no idea what it was and only spoke, I don't know, in his current language and the one of his past life. Hearing a sound of frustration there was a short pause, then he felt something hard pressed up against his mouth.
Bal turned his head away, not wanting whatever vile thing they tried to give him. He thought it might be poison. Helpless, he soon felt another hand grip the hair on the back of his head with force, holding his head back and up. Once again, something was pressed to his cracked lips.
Dazed, strange words yelled rung in Bal's ears as he felt a liquid fall between his lips. Realizing it was probably water, it tasted almost sweet due to dehydration, he gave in and drank from whatever was held there. The moment ended faster than he wanted as the object was pulled away and the grasp on his head along with it.
A bit more incomprehensible language and his body shifted. The subtle shifting back and forth resumed, the almost rhythmic bumps and motion rocking him lightly again. It reminded him of being carried, but there were no hands on him.
Time dragged on and exhaustion overtook him.
-
The days were all but lost to Balver. What happened when he awoke came time and time again. Sometimes there was food of some kind given to him. It was unlike anything he had ever tasted before, softer than meat, harder than berries, and broke apart like clumps of dried dirt when he chewed.
The only thing he knew, was that whoever took him first was long gone. The voices changed a few times as he was pushed and shoved over into different places. With how long it felt like he was being carried in some way, he knew he was nowhere near his little village anymore.
The repetitive existence ground away at his prior thoughts. Before long, he resolved to treat everything like a new life. He had grown up here, in this body that was completely different from his memories, so it shouldn’t be a big problem to start once again.
The only difference was that he didn’t have the luxury of trying to figure out the language while growing up as a baby. He would learn though, and during his waking time, that is what he focused on trying to do.
Days continued to roll by, then weeks. Sometimes he would even hear several other voices. Between that and what the calluses gained as his body attempted to accommodate the change, he grew familiar with the incessant rocking motion of the thing he was being moved in. Even the blanket that covered him most of the time was the only comfort he received.
The blanket was removed when he was pushed to get up and relieve himself. That part took him a bit to figure out what his captor wanted since they pushed him to stand somewhere and yelled a now familiar word at him.
That was his cue to go before soon after being jerked back and water being thrown onto him. It was only a moment to dry before once again being loaded up to continue on whatever journey they had.
One day, he was pushed to stand, just like all the previous times. This time, the familiar word that signaled he was allowed to go to the bathroom never came.
Bal stood patiently on his weakened legs and waited. Hearing movement from those who talked, he didn't dare do anything else at this point. The light plodding of footsteps sounded closer and closer after a long silence.
Bal didn’t know why, but he felt something was different about the approaching step. No words came out from his captors and he had long learned not to say anything himself. So he continued to stand, silent, waiting.
Knees shaking, legs unaccustomed to bearing his weight, Bal was almost completely thoughtless. Then he heard a new sound. It was a higher pitch, almost ring, that seemed to reverberate through the air as Bal's guts told him that he should run.
But where to? He had no idea where he was, what was going on, or what the sound meant. How could he know what had happened over the past several months, carted around to town after town. Without knowledge of the language except a few key words relative to certain things, he was lost in more than location.
No matter the newness of the sound, the soles of his feet began to ache along with the strain of standing. Bal's toes gripped the dirt as he flexed them to calm himself with the only sensation he still had some control over at the moment. He sighed with the thought that he could at least still feel the dirt beneath.
Long adjusted to wearing a blindfold, he had kept his eyes closed as the subtle breeze had faded and all that was left was the rustle of tattered fabric that could barely mask the encroaching footsteps behind.
A voice called out. Not toward him, he could tell. What sounded like a short conversation followed and then another long moment of silence.
More footsteps approached and a new voice, that sounded younger spoke up. It sounded shaky as the much lighter footsteps neared. A flash of memory appeared in his mind as he guided a youth in his past life on their first hunt.
Every moment was confusing Bal more and more as he stood waiting. He began to ignore whatever was going on as he focused on standing under his own weakened strength. Mind wandering he thought to himself.
Would he remember this life in his next?
Would there be a next?
It was then, he felt a sharp pain radiate through his chest. A feeling he felt in his past life told him what it was. He had been pierced by something, and it was something bigger than a claw or a spear he was familiar with.
Bal gave in, letting his legs fall. A scream escaped out as best it could, only for blood to come up instead halfway through. Whatever it was, drove straight through his right chest from behind. The object was pulled out and Bal crumpled the rest of the way to the ground. Gasping for what little air he could between the blood already filling most of his lungs, the other attempted to compensate.
There he lay. Collapsed on the ground in a field of unknown. Breath escapes as his brain slowly shut down, asphyxiated by his own blood and all once again turned to nothingness.
