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Fear is a tool, not the master
Aug. 27th, 2013 02:25 pmOk, here's my entry for the Week 1 Writing challenge.
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"The time has come to do what must be done.
There are many other options. There are always options. Too many. I could run. I could hide. I could let someone else take on the burden. I will survive with the shame. Isn't that what is important? To survive? Isn't that our most basic need? Or, I could let it take me without a fight, and face whatever is on the other side.
I don't see how I can pull it off. I'm not quick enough. I think too much when I need to act. It could hit me before I can even sense it. My eyes are bad, especially in the dark. Others were better than me in training. I scored well enough to pass, but just barely."
These thoughts raced through his mind as he made his way, along the path to the task he must perform. The fear pulled him down with each step. The doubtful thoughts ran rampant without any indication of letting up. There was no way to focus on anything except the horror of failing at what was to come.
He paused before an obstacle in his path. He almost ran into it without realizing. He looked up to see a door. He reached up to the knob and stopped only inches away.
"Who in their right mind would think I could do this?! I'm not as fit as I should be for this. I can't....I just can't see how I'm going to pull it off."
His hand dropped away from the knob and he spun to turn away. Clenching his fist and trying to fight away the anxiety that had him in an iron fist. Two panicked and quick steps took him away from what was on the other side of the door. The unimaginable that is impossible to face. The effort to hold up against the weight on his shoulders faltered and his shoulders dropped in resignation. His hand held a heavy weight that we barely acknowledged.
Thud!
The sound startled him and he looked down at the noise. The sound was the butt of his weapon striking the floor. His eyes focus on the floor. The dirt and debris covered the once pristine floor.
"This is where my life has come. All of my dreams amount to this. Dirt."
As he took a breath to lift the heavy weapon off the floor, a glimmer of sunlight fell across his feet and reflected off the metal. His breath caught as he saw the patterns underneath the dirt.
The vibrant colors were still there underneath the ravaged debris. The regal blue and red marble tile. Tile he remembers admiring as a child when his family was granted an audience. He glanced around himself to admire the stone walls that were decorated with tapestries now torn by the recent fighting, but still showing craftsmanship forged with pride and experience. The ceiling far above him with chandeliers of beautifully wrought iron. He hefted the halberd in his right hand and found comfort in its familiar weight.
Before he realized, the halberd rested at the ready. Without any thought, his muscles moved with the precision he had drilled for hours to perfect. And he stopped.
"I am afraid. Fear has it's hold on me."
The anxiety and doubts were still racing throughout his mind, but another thought stopped to consider. The thought that caught the sunlight off the metal. The thought that pulled a cherished memory to the fore and cracked the granite that was his fear.
He recited words he learned from his training.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He brushed aside doubts as he stopped to consider each one in turn.
"I could run, but that would not stop the menace. I could hide, but that would only accomplish my own survival. I could let someone else take the burden, but I am the one here."
He began to listen, intently, at the noises on the other side of the door. He could hear the continued fighting that must be on the far side of the chamber. Before another thought could intervene, he was at the door opening it.
He glanced around the huge chamber, taking note of each detail that was important. The beast was facing away from him attacking his brothers-at-arms. The arrows and blades glanced off the scales with barely a scratch left behind. The claws moved almost too quickly to see, but they can be deflected with a shield. The beast also caught men in a savage bite, but the beast would rear back before striking. The beasts spiked tail flailed behind it, making it a hazard.
He spotted movement on the balcony above the fighting. A door opened, but only slightly. It was the signal for him to make his move.
He pulled his shield from his back and allowed it to clink against his halberd. No doubts existed in his mind. No fear of failure. Nothing but what was in front of him.
The beast turned its head and regarded him with a single eye, and just as quickly turned away to continue its attack.
It seemed that he was not enough of a bother. The only way the plan was going to work, is if he can get the dragon's attention long enough to allow the mages to cast their spell. Only he was not enough of a threat to get its attention.
How could he get the dragon's attention? He was just a morsel to the beast. What would pull it away from its fun? What would make the dragon pause in thrashing his brothers to pieces to regard him, a lone man? What would it take?
He stopped to take a long, focusing breath and recited the mantra in his thoughts.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He let everything fall away. His fear. His doubts. Even his thoughts. He listened. He watched. He observed. He took what was around him and allowed it to pass through him. A pattern emerged. The pattern of the dragons savage strikes. The rhythm of shields answering claw and tooth. Then a thrum. It emanated from the very floor, the walls, and the air. It tasted of fear, but it wasn't his own. It smelled of loss, but he had laid his own thoughts aside. It sounded like rage, but his blood was not boiling.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He recited the mantra over and over. Then the fear melted away, the fear that wasn't his own. The loss drifted away in the wind. But the rage remained.
The rhythm of the shields grew stronger. The savage strikes were losing their pattern.
Movement from the balcony caught his eye. A mage hidden in the shadows, moved his hands and arms in circles and spirals. Patterns that melted into the thrum.
"Fear is a tool, not the master."
The soldier smiled as he finally understood. He no longer observed the thrum, he let it take over him. He felt it vibrate his very bones. The rage that was left behind was his, it was his brother's-at-arms, it was the mage's, and it was the kingdom's. He raised his halberd and slammed it down onto the floor three times.
"BOOM........BOOM........BOOM", thundered throughout the chamber, down the halls, and outside the castle walls.
The soldier's voice thundered, "Fear is a tool........and WE ARE THE MASTERS".
=============================================================
"The time has come to do what must be done.
There are many other options. There are always options. Too many. I could run. I could hide. I could let someone else take on the burden. I will survive with the shame. Isn't that what is important? To survive? Isn't that our most basic need? Or, I could let it take me without a fight, and face whatever is on the other side.
I don't see how I can pull it off. I'm not quick enough. I think too much when I need to act. It could hit me before I can even sense it. My eyes are bad, especially in the dark. Others were better than me in training. I scored well enough to pass, but just barely."
These thoughts raced through his mind as he made his way, along the path to the task he must perform. The fear pulled him down with each step. The doubtful thoughts ran rampant without any indication of letting up. There was no way to focus on anything except the horror of failing at what was to come.
He paused before an obstacle in his path. He almost ran into it without realizing. He looked up to see a door. He reached up to the knob and stopped only inches away.
"Who in their right mind would think I could do this?! I'm not as fit as I should be for this. I can't....I just can't see how I'm going to pull it off."
His hand dropped away from the knob and he spun to turn away. Clenching his fist and trying to fight away the anxiety that had him in an iron fist. Two panicked and quick steps took him away from what was on the other side of the door. The unimaginable that is impossible to face. The effort to hold up against the weight on his shoulders faltered and his shoulders dropped in resignation. His hand held a heavy weight that we barely acknowledged.
Thud!
The sound startled him and he looked down at the noise. The sound was the butt of his weapon striking the floor. His eyes focus on the floor. The dirt and debris covered the once pristine floor.
"This is where my life has come. All of my dreams amount to this. Dirt."
As he took a breath to lift the heavy weapon off the floor, a glimmer of sunlight fell across his feet and reflected off the metal. His breath caught as he saw the patterns underneath the dirt.
The vibrant colors were still there underneath the ravaged debris. The regal blue and red marble tile. Tile he remembers admiring as a child when his family was granted an audience. He glanced around himself to admire the stone walls that were decorated with tapestries now torn by the recent fighting, but still showing craftsmanship forged with pride and experience. The ceiling far above him with chandeliers of beautifully wrought iron. He hefted the halberd in his right hand and found comfort in its familiar weight.
Before he realized, the halberd rested at the ready. Without any thought, his muscles moved with the precision he had drilled for hours to perfect. And he stopped.
"I am afraid. Fear has it's hold on me."
The anxiety and doubts were still racing throughout his mind, but another thought stopped to consider. The thought that caught the sunlight off the metal. The thought that pulled a cherished memory to the fore and cracked the granite that was his fear.
He recited words he learned from his training.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He brushed aside doubts as he stopped to consider each one in turn.
"I could run, but that would not stop the menace. I could hide, but that would only accomplish my own survival. I could let someone else take the burden, but I am the one here."
He began to listen, intently, at the noises on the other side of the door. He could hear the continued fighting that must be on the far side of the chamber. Before another thought could intervene, he was at the door opening it.
He glanced around the huge chamber, taking note of each detail that was important. The beast was facing away from him attacking his brothers-at-arms. The arrows and blades glanced off the scales with barely a scratch left behind. The claws moved almost too quickly to see, but they can be deflected with a shield. The beast also caught men in a savage bite, but the beast would rear back before striking. The beasts spiked tail flailed behind it, making it a hazard.
He spotted movement on the balcony above the fighting. A door opened, but only slightly. It was the signal for him to make his move.
He pulled his shield from his back and allowed it to clink against his halberd. No doubts existed in his mind. No fear of failure. Nothing but what was in front of him.
The beast turned its head and regarded him with a single eye, and just as quickly turned away to continue its attack.
It seemed that he was not enough of a bother. The only way the plan was going to work, is if he can get the dragon's attention long enough to allow the mages to cast their spell. Only he was not enough of a threat to get its attention.
How could he get the dragon's attention? He was just a morsel to the beast. What would pull it away from its fun? What would make the dragon pause in thrashing his brothers to pieces to regard him, a lone man? What would it take?
He stopped to take a long, focusing breath and recited the mantra in his thoughts.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He let everything fall away. His fear. His doubts. Even his thoughts. He listened. He watched. He observed. He took what was around him and allowed it to pass through him. A pattern emerged. The pattern of the dragons savage strikes. The rhythm of shields answering claw and tooth. Then a thrum. It emanated from the very floor, the walls, and the air. It tasted of fear, but it wasn't his own. It smelled of loss, but he had laid his own thoughts aside. It sounded like rage, but his blood was not boiling.
"Fear is a killer from within, but only if we allow it.
Fear is the key to survival, but only if we use it.
Fear is a tool, not the master."
He recited the mantra over and over. Then the fear melted away, the fear that wasn't his own. The loss drifted away in the wind. But the rage remained.
The rhythm of the shields grew stronger. The savage strikes were losing their pattern.
Movement from the balcony caught his eye. A mage hidden in the shadows, moved his hands and arms in circles and spirals. Patterns that melted into the thrum.
"Fear is a tool, not the master."
The soldier smiled as he finally understood. He no longer observed the thrum, he let it take over him. He felt it vibrate his very bones. The rage that was left behind was his, it was his brother's-at-arms, it was the mage's, and it was the kingdom's. He raised his halberd and slammed it down onto the floor three times.
"BOOM........BOOM........BOOM", thundered throughout the chamber, down the halls, and outside the castle walls.
The soldier's voice thundered, "Fear is a tool........and WE ARE THE MASTERS".
