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One of life's great decisions is whether you want people to admire you or pity you. You cannot pursue both.
-Musings of the Historian
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AS NEAR AS I CAN TELL from the other histories, that was over four hundred years ago. The new Creators lived as they knew how, no more advancement. The Destroyers scraped by on the other side of the wall, full of ideas and imagination, but completely lacking the skill to bring any of their ideas into reality.
"Fascinating," I murmured as I shook my head and contemplated these new developments. Sadavir had just finished his rendition of the history of his people.
"Fascinating?" Sadavir queried. "I think it's monstrous. I'm not even sure who the bad guys are anymore."
I smiled in spite of the sadness of the moment. "In life, there are seldom good guys and bad guys. Everyone does what they think is best, they live, they die, and their stories are told later, their actions judged by strangers."
"Stories told by you, Uncle?"
"Yes, I tell people's stories."
"Will you tell mine?"
"Someday."
"Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"Am I a good guy or a bad guy in your story?"
"I only tell the story, the listeners decide that."
He nodded, accepting, and we headed back to the village.
The next day I had the opportunity to talk with Andre about these new developments.
"So I was surprised to learn that the Destroyers accepted such a name from the Creators. It is rare for a people to accept something like that."
Andre nodded. "It is hard for people to admit that they are wrong, storyteller. But we are a religious people, there has to be meaning for everything. When our lives fell apart, there had to be a cause. Naturally, at first, it was the evil of the slaves. But as new generations grew and learned of their history, more and more grew to realize how wrong we were for enslaving them and soon the whole people accepted their punishment and the new name that came with it."
"That's good, Andre, that they were that humble, but something still doesn't add up," I probed. "I have seen how people have reacted when they've seen Sadavir and myself in Creators' clothes. There is still anger there, hatred. You can't tell me that those are the eyes of a people who have humbly accepted their fate and their punishment for their wrongdoings."
Andre smiled. "You are right, my friend. Things aren't that simple. Everyone, of course, knows of our ancient sin and our punishment for it. But knowing that you deserve a lashing doesn't make it sting any less. I challenge you to find a man, woman, or child on this earth who truly wants what they deserve. Besides, that was more than four hundred years ago, the people feel that we have paid our price and they want to see the end of the Creators. Some would even see them enslaved again.
"In the far past there were splinter groups who tried to go over the wall and retake our ancestral lands, but they were defeated. Each time there was a new attack, the Creators would add to the wall, making it higher, smoother, and more dangerous. I'm sad to say that most of their ideas for improving the wall came from memories of the prisons we would throw them in for petty offenses. Now they use our own cruelty against us. I guessed that the spikes and stones are poisoned because our ancestors poisoned the spikes on their prison walls."
I accepted this information stoically, a lot more things made sense, then something else occurred to me.
"Andre, when you heard me talk about Sadavir's father, you seemed to understand why Sadavir was born with a Destroyer's Stone, why was that?"
"Oh, it's simple enough. Even though it was expressly forbidden by old Creator law, there were still some of our ancestors who fell in love with a slave. While it was rare, the result was that bits of the bloodlines still continue, subdued, in each race. My wife mentioned the first day you were here about the girl who was born among us who has a Creator's Stone. When you mentioned that Sadavir's father was an inventor and a thinker; that was obviously his Destroyer blood in him. I assume his wife was also like him?"
I nodded.
"Well, that settles it. You had two descendants of mixed ancestry get married, and that was enough to have Sadavir born as a pure Destroyer, bits from each of his parents. It was highly unlikely, but not impossible."
We walked for a little while before Andre thought of something else.
"I can't explain the color of his Stone, however. Never in my life or even in our histories have I ever seen or heard of such a Stone. We don't know the history of the Creators, but I suspect that they have never seen a Stone like Olya's" He mused.
"Olya?"
"Yes, that is the name of the girl who was born with a Creator's Stone. I think you would like her, storyteller. She is a very interesting young woman. Maybe Sadavir would think so too," Andre winked. I smiled. Sadavir had been here less than a month, and already his marriage was being arranged for him.
Still, I worried about my young friend. While Andre was open and generous, it stretched my understanding of human nature to try and believe that all the people would feel the same. Still, Andre was obviously well respected and he was quite determined that Sadavir become one of them.
Andre certainly didn't wait long. We had been there only another week since the revelations of the histories when Andre told Sadavir that he was going to another village in a couple of days and he would like him to come along. Sadavir readily agreed.
He smiled and winked as he turned from Sadavir and saw me watching.
"You, of course, are also invited, storyteller, but somehow I doubt you needed an invitation."
It was indeed a sad day for the kids of the village when Andre left to go to the nearby village and Sadavir went with him. They had lost their favorite toy and playmate.
The journey was a pleasant one. We weren't in any hurry and Nadya had packed us plenty of dried meat and shelled nuts to eat on the way. As usual, the conversation was mostly between Andre and Sadavir, leaving me free to observe my surroundings. I had always been very fond of the mountains and the Destroyers' land was much more hilly than the plain country of the Creators.
Eventually, we arrived in the other village and the village leader greeted Andre warmly. He eyed Sadavir and me with suspicion, but as Andre explained to him who we were and what we had done for his village, his expression softened and his gaze wandered toward the high nut trees that grew near his own encampment. Andre read his thoughts and laughed.
"Ivan, you always were a conniver. There will be plenty of time for that later. As for right now, my young friend came to see Olya. Could you call her?"
Sadavir's head whipped around to look at Andre. Somehow he had forgotten to mention to Sadavir that he was there to meet a girl.
"I'm afraid that she was summoned to another village. A man there was stabbed through the foot by a sharp stick in the leaves and it became infected. We are expecting her back any time now, however, and I would be more than happy to offer you the hospitality of my hut until she returns."
Sadavir's arm flashed to his side with blinding speed and a fist-sized rock broke in two across his armband as he spun to face his attacker. His eyes fell on a young man, several years older than himself, who cursed violently as he crouched, looking for another rock to throw.
"Ivan! How can you stand there while this Creator disgraces our camp?" the man yelled as his hands raked the leaves on the ground, searching for a rock to throw.
Ivan yelled back at the man, "Vova, this man is no more Creator than you are! Stay your hand!"
Turning to Sadavir, he quickly explained, "Vova's father was killed by Creators. He was retreating towards the gate when one of them threw a rock and hit him in the back of the head, killing him on the spot."
Sadavir nodded sadly. He understood the bitterness that comes from pain. In the meantime, Vova had dropped his rock, but he still stalked up to Sadavir and extended his hand, palm up.
"Show me your Stone!" he commanded.
"No," Sadavir answered quietly. Andre and Ivan stared wide-eyed at him.
"Sadavir! I really think you should show him your Stone."
Andre hissed.
"No, I have been judged by my Stone my whole life. I am finished with it. Vova, I know what you are feeling, I have seen the same feeling in the eyes of my neighbors as they recall their loved ones who fell by the hands of Destroyers."
"Are you calling my father a murderer?" Vova screamed, his face twisted with rage.
"I'm not calling anybody anything. I stand before you as a man, not a Creator or a Destroyer. If I have wronged you in any way, feel free to try and take your revenge, but if not, I recommend you walk away."
"You profane my father's name!"
"I profane nothing, but you have become like his killers, driven only by hatred."
Vova roared like a wounded animal and swung his fist hard at Sadavir's face. There was a sickening crunch as his hand slammed into Sadavir's armband, which seemed to materialize in the path of his punch.
If it had been Padam or one of the other Creators who had picked on Sadavir in his youth, the fight would already have been over. But this was no pampered youth. Callused hands and corded muscles spoke of a life of hardship. A life like that turns a boy into a man, tough as leather.
Protecting his broken hand, Vova attacked again with his feet and knees, showing amazing dexterity and skill as his feet snaked towards Sadavir. His first two kicks hit nothing but air as Sadavir dodged them easily.
Vova then gathered himself and launched himself towards the younger man with his knee shooting out, trying to break Sadavir's ribs. The timing was perfect and against any other man, it would have been a devastating attack. Sadavir jumped straight into the air and Vova overextended his strike right under him. Sadavir landed with both knees on Vova's chest. Vova had already been off balance and the force of the counterstrike drove him to the ground like a sledgehammer. Vova folded up in a way man was never meant to fold. Even as he hit the ground, his limbs twisted under him.
Sadavir had already landed lightly on his feet. His right arm flashed toward Vova in a finishing blow and his nose broke flat against his face.
Men were already grabbing for weapons to respond to this sudden threat. Things were about to turn very ugly. A beautiful voice broke the chaos.
"What is going on here?"
"Olya, your timing couldn't have been more perfect, Vova needs your help!" Ivan yelled out. All heads spun to look at whom he was yelling. A very pretty young lady stood with her jaw gaping open, pretty blue eyes wide and staring. Sadavir, who only a moment before had stood like a god of violence over his fallen opponent, suddenly looked like a small boy again, one who had been scolded for breaking his mother's dishes. His hands crept behind his back and his toe poked idly into the damp earth.
"Ivan, who are these men? And what are these strange clothes they wear? Are these Creator clothes? What have they done to Vova?" the young lady asked as she walked closer. Ivan hurried to explain.
"This young man was exiled from the Creators, he has a Destroyer's Stone." He turned to look suspiciously at Sadavir. "Or at least, so I hear."
Sadavir grudgingly pulled his Stone from inside his shirt and displayed it. A tiny bit of dark light still rippled across its surface but was fading quickly. Fascinated, the girl reached out and grabbed the Stone to inspect it more closely. The others chuckled softly as Sadavir was pulled over by the cord around his neck.
"Umm, I could take it off if you would like."
"Oh!" The girl realized what she had done and let go of the Stone as if shocked. This time it was Sadavir's turn to smile.
"Really, it's fine," he said and pulled the cord over his neck and handed her the Stone. For a comparison, she pulled her own Stone out of a leather pouch at her side and handed it to Sadavir. Just as Andre had said, there was absolutely no color in it, it was as clear as pure water. Olya's gaze was fixed on the black Stone as if trying to unravel some mystery. It was Ivan that broke her reverie.
"Umm, I don't mean to interrupt, but Vova is still in a great deal of pain. Olya, could you please help him?" Ivan insisted, pointing to the man who still lay on the ground, holding his broken hand and breathing shallowly.
I guessed that he had landed hard when he fell down and now sported some broken ribs to match his broken hand. Both Olya and Sadavir turned to look down on him as if surprised to see him there. Sadavir looked suddenly sick for having been the cause of his suffering. He handed her Stone back to her.
"I hope he will..." Sadavir started feebly but was distracted by a faint glow that came from her hand. Olya noticed it too.
"Whoa! Did you see that?" Sadavir nodded the affirmative. She had transferred both Stones to one hand to fish in one of her pouches for some herbs and the Stones had reacted. She opened her hand and the two of them stared at the spectacle contained in her palm. White light seemed to pulse back and forth between the two Stones, even the blackness of Sadavir's Stone emanated the white light.
"Mmm..." Vova groaned from the ground. "...feels better."
Olya looked from the Stones in her hand to her patient lying on the ground. She reached her hand slowly toward Vova's broken hand. The closer she got, the more his face, distorted by pain, relaxed. As her hand came to hover directly over the broken hand, the Stones shone brighter and I could actually see the bones of his hand form back to their natural state.
The flesh on his skinned knuckles smoothed and healed in moments before my very eyes. In a few moments, his hand looked as good as new. Even scratches that couldn't have been caused by his fight with Sadavir faded and then disappeared altogether. She moved the Stones over his ribs and in no time at all, his breathing was even and deep. She pulled the Stones back and they dimmed. Vova sat up and stared at Olya.
"Thank you," he murmured, at a complete loss for words. Similar shock was evident on the faces of everyone present. Sadavir and Olya exchanged looks, stepped over Vova, and knelt down over a plant that grew at the base of a tree. Seeming to read her thoughts, Sadavir reached and bent the plant over, breaking the stem so the plant barely held together. He then sat back and Olya leaned forward with the two Stones clutched tightly in her hand and held them over the broken plant. The Stones glowed again and the plant righted itself and the stem solidified as if it had never been broken.
"Can I try?" Sadavir asked in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. A reverent hush had fallen over the gathered audience. If anyone understood what was happening, they certainly couldn't yet wrap their minds around the implications.
Olya nodded and handed him the Stones. She leaned forward and broke the plant's stem again. Sadavir stretched his hand out to the plant.
A surprised yelp escaped Olya's lips as the plant was obliterated in a burst of dirt and juicy green shrapnel. Sadavir opened his hand and instead of white light, the same dark fire I had seen dance on the Stone before danced over the clear Stone as well, which in turn fed the black fire and returned it back stronger to the first Stone. Sadavir dropped the Stones as if his hand was burned. The two Stones fell to the ground where they quickly dimmed. His head dropped into his hands.
"I am truly a Destroyer, that is all I can do."
Without even thinking about it, Olya put her arm around his shoulders and whispered that everything was going to be all right. They remained there for some time, a statue of despair and sympathy. Sadavir finally raised his head. His upbringing had allowed no room for self-pity; he wouldn't let it rule him now.
He picked up the Stones from where they had fallen and placed them tenderly in her hands.
"I want you to have my Stone. You can do far more good with it than I can."
She nodded, humbly accepting the gift. The rest of us stood enthralled, observers in a moment of lost emotions.
There they stood, looking at each other and the Stones she held for over a full minute before Andre broke the spell.
"By the way, Sadavir, this is Olya; Olya, this is Sadavir. Ivan, Vova, you can close your mouths now."