A long time ago, my father told me a story about a man that had trouble overcoming the hardships in his past. Every few months, he would remind me of the myth. Although it was not a true story, it had a good message: never hold onto the past, always look forward. This is that story…

‘Everything was dark. If I squinted, it was possible to almost see the nearly imperceptible outlines of inanimate objects. In fear, I sprinted as fast as I could. I avoiding the blurry objects in my path, but it felt as though I was barely moving. On both sides, I noticed with my peripheral vision that the objects were hardly going past.

Suddenly, I saw a yellow speck on my right. Since I had no idea what the speck was, my natural instinct was to immediately flee from it. After what felt like an eternity of horror-filled running, my lungs started to burn intensely. My legs started to give out gradually. My heart started to visibly pump in my chest, and ultimately, my body hit the unforgiving ground with a heavy thud. Being on the ground was particularly uncomfortable due to my collapse. Perhaps I had broken a bone or something else of that dreadful sort.

Unable to move, I lay on my side waiting for the inevitable to happen, yet even with my eyes shut tight, it felt almost the same as having my eyes wide open. Then, to my great astonishment, I heard a coarse but nonchalant voice directly in front of my face. Actually, it sounded like a squawk rather than an actual voice. Somewhat quietly, it asked, “Achilles, where are you going?”

What an odd question to ask, I thought, perplexed by the question. In answer, I said, “I am running from the yellow speck.” Now that I had said it out loud, I realized how ridiculous it actually was. Running from a speck, how foolish was I? What was the point? Opening my eyes, I was shocked to find the barely distinguishable outline of a raven in front of my face.

“That is ridiculously absurd,” the coarse, squawky voice called from an unidentifiable place. Searching for the source with darting eyes, I completely ignored the small bird in front of my face. It was the least of my worries at this point in time. Once more, the voice spoke firmly, “Stop looking around for danger and look me in the eye. I am directly in front of you.” In scrutiny, I glanced at the bird but decided that it was completely illogical to think that the bird was the source of the voice. Therefore, I looked elsewhere into the darkness directly in front of me, excluding the outline of the raven.

Again the voice spoke with annoyance, “You, sir, are a complete and utter fool beyond any other I have seen.” Unintentionally, my eyes drifted back to the raven just in time to indistinctly see the outline of a beak in the process of closing. An incongruous thought popped into my head. Perhaps it actually was the raven that had been speaking, but that was supposed to be impossible. After I spent several seconds in contemplation, I looked the bird in the eye and asked, “Are you the one I have been hearing?”

“I am.” The bird replied tolerantly.

Still somewhat frightened by the surrounding darkness, I interrogated the bird. “Where am I? Why am I here? Why are you able to talk?”

As patient as a lion stalking its prey, the raven answered, “This place has no name, you are here without purpose, and I have no reason to explain my ability to speak.”

Speechless, I was perplexed by the bird’s answer. It continued after a few moments of silence. “Since you are without purpose, I will give you one. This place has no name, but there is a reason this place is full of darkness. Nearby, in the uttermost darkness, is a being that spreads it called the Praeteritum. In order for this place to regain its light, you must overcome the Praeteritum.”

“By overcome, you mean kill it, am I right?” I asked, bewildered and petrified. In reply, the crow nodded. Unfortunately for the bird, I had no intention of fighting a beast that was unknown to me. Anything that exemplifies an idea in a powerful, physical form is something that I would rather avoid.

Once more, the bird spoke. Seemingly exasperated, the raven said, “You cannot leave unless you defeat the Praeteritum.”

Now I was the one that was exasperated. Was the raven serious? I really had to defeat an incarnation of darkness? Well, if it meant leaving this godforsaken land, so be it. If it meant escape, I would do anything. “What must I do then?” I asked hesitantly.

“You must travel behind me until you reach the Praeteritum.” It answered. As soon as it said its last word, the bird vanished like a vapor in a strong wind.

Perturbed by the new mission given to me, I continued to lie on the iron-like ground, resting my weary muscles as much as possible. After several minutes, I prepared myself mentally for the upcoming trek in even greater darkness than I was already in. Slowly and carefully, I stood facing the direction that the raven had directed me in. For what felt like a terrible eternity of trudging through darkness in a dreary black fog, I forced myself onward, ever mindful of the dreadful prospect of facing the Praeteritum, whatever that beast of darkness was. During my grim journey, I continued to pass more inanimate objects, but they were steadily becoming less visible. At the moment, it seemed that I was now moving faster than when I had been running from the speck, even though I was limping along at a snail’s pace.

Eventually, I reached a place of utter darkness. No longer could I make out the outlines of objects. The darkness was so thick that I could feel it pressing against my skin as though it were trying to burrow into the depths of my soul. Also, I could no longer see my hand only a few inches from my face. There was no possible way for this to be any worse. At that moment, I jinxed myself. No sooner had I thought there could be nothing worse that could happen, the situation immediately became far worse. There was an impressing force upon my already feverish skin. The stench of death permeated my nostrils. If there were ever a feeling or smell to describe hatred, it would be this.

Those things were indeed frightful in and of themselves, but the worst part was the being before me which was even darker than darkness itself. It was as noticeable in the blackness as my shadow would be in broad daylight. In fact, it looked like a shadow that had taken on the form of a man with beady red dots for eyes, though it bore no other distinguishable traits. What little resolve I had dwindled as I shook with fear.

The creature faced me with an ominous glint in its eye. Then, a hoarse voice called out from it, saying, “You are Achilles, the one who allowed his parents to die because of his hatred for them. You are Achilles, who is unable to stand for himself against even the smallest adversaries. You are Achilles, hated by many and loved by none. What is it that thou wretched soul seek with me.”

Whatever trace of resolve I had clung to was now dried up, but I blindly asked, “How do you know me?”

What ensued was a moment of silence, and then a fearsome but composed: “I am you, the real you, the entity that dwells below the surface of your heart.”

Shivers ran throughout my body. It was impossible to tell whether it was from cold or fear. Either way, I was now unable to move. I suppose I was paralyzed or something of that terrible sort. Paralyzed in the dark, what better way to die; perhaps I would not feel pain.

The beast took an ominous step toward me, then another, then another, and approached until it was nearly upon me. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the imminent to happen, but I could still see the creature. Then, the most interesting thing happened. I remembered the words that my mother had told me when I was young that I had so long forgotten. Whatever you do Achilles, I will always protect you. Never fear anything because I will watch over you. The situation at that time… I had been stuck in a cave that I had tried to explore, but my mother came to my rescue with a lamp in hand. Suddenly, a small light illuminated the darkness. Gradually, its incandescent light spread down my body and warmed me to my core. Looking down at my sword, which was now somehow in my hand, I realized that my blade, forged by my father and given to me by my mother, was the source of the great light.

At that exact moment, I realized that my parents’ will had been forged into my sword at its creation shortly after my birth. Rushing toward the ghastly beast before me, I thrust my blade through its heart. Beams of yellow, candle-like light burst forth from the abomination. With a great explosion of intense power that caused me to turn away, the grisly entity burst forth in a ball of light. Similar to the light released from the flame of a lit candle, it spread like wildfire throughout the unknown land. For a short time, I was blinded by the spectacle.

When it was over, I looked back at the location of the deceased Praeteritum. I assume it was the Praeteritum, anyway. However, when I looked upon the creature, it was no longer a bulge of menacing darkness. It was now a small boy with luminescent blond hair and shining blue eyes. His pure face showed no fear, no pain, and no sorrow. Donning a smile that warmed my heart, he said, “Thank you for saving me.” In return, I nodded silently. Now that I thought about it, the boy looked like a younger version of me. Then, a gorgeous woman appeared like a morning mist, gently took the boy’s hand, and together the two walked off in glee. That woman looked so familiar. Thinking hard to remember who it was, I realized that she looked exactly like the memories I had of my mother, which was rather curious.

Next, I felt something on my shoulder. When I looked, I saw the raven sitting there peacefully. With a smooth, no longer coarse voice, it said, “Well done, son. You have overcome the Praeteritum.”

Humbly, I replied, “I could not have accomplished it without help.”

“I know. I was watching,” The Raven said kindly, “I am always watching. Now go back and accomplish what you were born to accomplish.” As the world started to fade away, I finally realized what the place was. That place was my past. The woman was a memory of my mother, and the boy was, in fact, me. Although I have no idea what the raven was, I still have my guesses. Waking to the sound of horns, I was now ready to face the battle before me. Ahead was Troy, my final destination as a man born to fight.’