The Legend Behind FBoM: An Ancient Struggle
The Legend told at the end of FBoM: The Betterment tells of an ancient struggle. A struggle that continues to this day unabated. The misunderstandings, the miscommunications, and the beliefs that have shaped the interactions between men and women since the beginning of time. With the #MeToo Movement, the #WhyIDidntreport stories, and the #Kavanaugh hearing, 10:16 Publishing has decided to print the tale on my website and put FBoM on sale through October, 15 2018 to bring the stories to light with as many people as possible. Below you will find the Legend, please share. For those of you looking to take advantage of this special offer, visit the FBoM page and follow the link to your favorite retailer. The FBoM page can be found here:
FBoM
“Within the darkness there is always light. The battle never ends. The champions eternally dance to the death, yet the victor will fail if he wins. There cannot be a winner, there was never a chance. How can dark exist without the light. How can light have meaning without the shadows?
Yet the struggle continues, as it has since before time began. The construct of their existence defined by the reality of the other. They push against each other, two mighty titans, struggling to dominate to control, to destroy. Yet to what end? In victory lies defeat. In dominance lies destruction.”
*
The boy that was yet to become a man, and the girl that had not yet reached womanhood, were the weapons of choice for the two warriors locked into a battle they had no choice but to fight. The female, free and bright; radiant in her love of life. The male, strong and confident; violent and defensive. What chance did she have? how could she win? In a battle of strength there would be only one outcome. But at what cost? What price would the victory demand?
The day of battle was clear and clean. The battleground a field unsullied by man. The witnesses: the multicolored butterflies flitting amongst the bluebells and daisies. The golden grass swaying in the slight breeze giving the soft sounds of an inland ocean, with its gentle lapping on to the soft sandy shore. The young girl was not prepared for battle. Who would ruin such a beautiful day with fighting? Why was there a need to fight when the world was such a glorious place to explore? Why battle when you can share the warmth of a glorious summer day? There is enough for all. There is infinity in a single flower, why try and conquer a sole petal on the stem?
The day was too bright, too hot, and the field was too open. It would be impossible to track in the shifting grass: the scent of his body too pungent to hide. Yet he must hunt and kill and conquer the earth. It’s what he was told. It’s what he knew. To be home where it was safe, his defenses in place; a chance to relax where the enemy couldn’t reach him, demanded he hunt and conquer. The field was too open, the butterflies and birds sure to distract his vision when it was time for the kill. Who would be foolish enough to be out in the open, under the sky, wasting time with the flowers on so warm a day. There was land to take, food to kill, and power to be shown.
“Make them fear you, “ the elders had said. “Only then will you be safe. Only then will you be able to sleep knowing you will wake.”
The boy knew fear… when he was young. He feared the dark until the Elders had taught him he was foolish. Boys that become men, did not cower at the shadows. The darkness was their friend: their ally. The shadows their lover surrounding them in its protective embrace. “Fear the light, if you must be afraid. It will expose you and show your enemy your weakness. You’ll be naked and vulnerable.”
The fear of the light… the fear of showing weakness to another predator was very real. Better to be in the dark, better to be hidden from the enemy until it was time to strike. Never show weakness… Never be exposed. If you want to wake in the morning… make the enemy feel fear greater than your own.
The enemy is there… in the light… in the field… alone… unaware… unafraid….
Watching a glorious Jay fly along the tops of the grass… grabbing an insect as opportunity provided, the young mistress spun in joy and happiness. The glory of the day, and the beauty of the sun reminding her of the joys of living. The sun and the light, the warmth and the comfort, was her friend. It fed and healed, protected and illuminated the mysteries of the Earth for all to see. The shadows and dark nights had their beauty and purpose, but they were cold and sometimes cruel: unforgiving in their majesty. The starlight, although glorious, gave no heat. It gave no growth to the world as their light rained down onto the land. The darkness hid the beauty of life and forced the birds of the world to roost until morning. The mothers and the elders would huddle next to the fire as if it could somehow beat back the night, push away the death of the sun… hold back the shadows of the enemy.
The Jay called out… screaming her name before flying into the tree line. What was in that shadow? What was hidden inside?
“Come out into the light and share the day. It’s far too lovely to stay hidden in the shadows. I know you’re there… no reason to lurk.”
As she spoke the boy who would be man sunk lower into the earth. Hide before the enemy sees. Stay out of the light. Perhaps I should run… no… men don’t run. Men conquer, dominate: destroy.
“Come out and say hello. We can be friends. There’s nothing to fear.”
The girl with her tanned supple body, her raven hair cascading freely down her back was no threat, she was weak and unarmed. There was no danger, no reason to fear. Yet it could be magic, it could be an enchantment. How would he know? Trust would be foolish. His father would call him weak.
“I don’t fear you. I am a man. I am strong!”
Coming out of the shadows to confront the girl, preparing for battle; preparing to control the threat.
With a smile like sunshine the girl admired her new friend. Yes, he was strong and lovely to look at. His broad shoulders and strong arms would be pleasant to lean against as they enjoyed the warmth of the earth. His intelligent eyes reminded her of the ravens she so admired for their wit and loyalty. He would make a good friend if he would only put down his spear and relax for a time.
“I’m sorry I suggested you might be afraid. I just wanted you to join me in the daylight. You are quite obviously strong and powerful. Would you like to be my friend?”
Unsure of the meaning… she was no man: she was not part of the tribe. There could be no friendship, that’s what he was taught. A hunter must be sly and stealthy, learning to hide in the shadows; learning to strike when the moment is right.
“We can’t be friends, but for a time we can walk side by side. If you come closer to the trees you can walk along the field and I can stay in the shadows. I am not used to the brightness. The light is too strong.”
Not wanting to leave the warmth of the sun, her “friends” in the field, and the beauty of the flowers made the decision difficult. Yet the opportunity to meet someone new, to learn and spend time sharing with another was more than she could resist.
“Then we shall walk side by side together along the field. I will introduce you to the birds of the field and you can teach me about the animals of the forest. Oh… we shall be glorious friends you and I!”
The boy was surprised she came so close. Doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she understand the rules of war? She was foolish: too trusting to survive in the world. Something inside said, “Perhaps he should protect her instead. There would be no honor and glory in victory over someone so naïve.” His father and the elders had never taught him how to handle a situation such as this. The confusion built inside, an internal battle of what he was taught and what he felt was right.
The girl continued to talk as they walked, discussing the birds and the butterflies. Taking time to stop and enjoy the beauty of the field and the waves in the grass. The boy said little but smiled at the right time. His smile was like the sunshine. It lit his face and filled his eyes. What a wondrous friend she had found, what a glorious day. She must do something nice for her friend, so that he would come back and spend another day.
The girl knew her flowers, there was no doubt. But she was a fool and still not to be trusted. His thoughts were wrong. His father would call him weak.
As they walked, hand in hand along the tree line- fingers entwined in the gray, neither in the light or the dark the day began to wane. The girl’s family would be worried if she was out after dark.
“If I walk into the field for a short time, will you wait for me? Will you be here when I get back? I won’t be long. I promise.”
“I will wait… for a brief time. My tribe will be expecting me back, but with nothing to show for my day they will be upset. I will need to hunt before I return. My time is running out due to the time I have wasted this day.”
With a smile that warmed the boy from head to toe, “Don’t be a silly boy. This was a glorious day filled with friendship and learning. You now know more about the birds of the field than any of your tribe. Take that back and share with them, they will be pleased. I shall return in a moment… please don’t leave.”
Boy? I am a man! Share knowledge as useless as the birds? The girl did not understand what made life. There was no protection in birds, no way to control them, they did not acknowledge fear or dominance. They simply flew off. She was a foolish person; this girl he had wasted his day with. Still he would not kill her, she was not strong enough to be a threat.
Upon her return, the boy noticed something in her hand. Was it a weapon? Was she not as foolish as he had believed? Moving deeper into the trees, preparing… waiting…
“I’ve brought you something to remember our beautiful day together. I’ve made you a crown of flowers from the field. Long grass and daisies and bluebells. It will be lovely on you. Let me place it upon your head.”
So the attack would come in the form of magic and herb lore. He remembered hearing of the danger. His father had warned him once but he couldn’t remember how to fight it. Being ensnared in the charms was dangerous, he knew that: he must act and act soon.
Staying in the trees, kneeling down so the girl would be able to reach his head, he waited. It must be strong magic as the girl came closer and closer without fear, without hesitation. Inches away… just a few more… just lean into the trees… come closer to the darkness…
The girl was unafraid: this was the best day of her life. The boy was sweet and charming all day long, even if he was apparently shy and unsure of himself. He was kind enough to kneel so she wouldn’t have to stretch. He was sweet after all. They would become amazing friends.
She didn’t understand why he was grabbing her so roughly as she leaned to place the flowers on his head. Why was he dragging her into the woods, there was no light and warmth in the forest? Struggling to get away – to go back into the comfort of her field – the safety of her tribe… but he was strong… stronger than her.
Why must she fight? Doesn’t she understand this is the nature of things. She must be taught. She must learn who is in charge. She must know fear before I can protect her. How can she respect me if she doesn’t know I am a man? My father and my elders have taught me this. She needs to quit trying to get away: she can’t survive without my protection the foolish girl. She’s making too much noise. Her screaming will bring the enemy.
Why is he pressing me down to the earth? It’s farther from the sun. Why is he hitting me? I don’t understand? He covers my mouth so I can’t scream and then hits me so I do… it makes no sense. What is that pain… Oh My God that hurts… what is he stabbing me with… why is he stabbing me there… my insides are exploding… what have I done? Why is he trying to kill me? I can’t get away… I can’t breathe… Oh God! I know what’s happening… the women have told me of this. But it’s not supposed to hurt… it’s not supposed to be like this… they never warned me… they never told me… I shouldn’t have gotten so close… this is my fault… I thought he was my friend.
She doesn’t understand… It will be better when it’s over. I don’t know why I’m doing this… it’s what I was taught. It’s what men do… but I’m just a boy… she was nice to me. Why must I do this… She was no threat. It’s what I’m supposed to do… make her fear… make her submit… own her and make her respect me. I don’t understand… it’s just what I was taught. Why must she cry… that makes it worse. I’m done now… I own her… she is mine… she should be happy. The elders told me so.
I’m hurting but alive. This is my fault. Getting up off the ground but I can’t stop crying. I cry for me and my pain. I cry for the loss of my friend. I cry for the loss of my innocence and my ability to trust. My body will heal: my heart will never be the same.
“Why? Why would you do that? We were friends. We shared the day. We could have done this again but now I will never trust. I’ll never step into the trees and shadows or ask what lurks within. And why are you crying? This was your doing. Your betrayal. Your attack.”
What have I done? There was no honor in this. This was no battle, she couldn’t fight back. She was no threat or something to be feared… she was… a… friend. I didn’t know… the elders never prepared me for this. I must let her go… or kill her… she is not afraid of me… she’s not trying to run… she’s still trying to understand. I can’t kill her…
“Tell me why you cry? You’ve gotten your way. You’ve hurt me and punished me for being kind to you. Kill me if you wish… it won’t change what you have done. The birds and the flowers… the very trees you so love will remember what they saw. They will spread the word and all will know you are not safe to be friends with. My body will heal… in time… but your soul has been damaged. Your honor removed. Your manhood tarnished.”
She’s right… I can’t go back. My father won’t understand… this was wrong… I’ll be made a fool. She was a friend… what have I done? My knife… yes my knife… that’s what I need. I can fix this… no one will know what I’ve done. I can’t face her… I can’t run from her… men don’t run… my knife… that’s the answer… my father will never forgive me….
“NO!!!!!!!”
Strange… the knife was cold as I slid it along my neck… I guess it’s good to keep a blade sharp… I barely felt it as the blood streamed down my hand. I hope she can forgive me… someday…
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