Are we enough?

One of the themes of Shroud of Ice spins around the question are we enough. Behind every life changing decision lurks these words of doubt. We either answer with action or inaction. Here is a scene from Chapter 2 of Shroud of Ice. Gaspare is unable to find his courage to be more than his past defined for him. He is bound within the slavery not just of the copper mines, but within the walls of his own mind. The scene takes place under a heavy moon by the lake with his friend Haliam.

The silence of the lake pulled our gaze out across the waters to the far edge. The wave’s lapping sounds blended with the frogs’ mating calls. Fear buzzed behind my eardrums.

“Don’t you want to go home?” Haliam asked.

Displaced anger threw down my reply. “Why? What’s there? There’s nothing left for me. Do you understand? Nothing . . . nuk is what you say, right? Nuk.” My sharp reply tasted like acid.

No one missed me because no one had come. When my legs had felt like breaking on the mountain’s rocks, the only thing to pick me up had been the pull of the rope tied to another slave. No one came to help me. Why should I want to go home? They were better off. The old village cries of “cursed one” from my memory joined the fear buzzing—death had marked me.

The flutter of a bat’s wings scuttled overhead. Smacking the mosquitos one last time, I shifted to leave.

Haliam stopped me. “An old tale from my village tells of a great man who died and stood before the greatest god. The man thought his greatness enough to have earned passage to the god’s presence. The deity looked him over and commanded the dead man to show him his wounds. There were no scars, of course, because he hadn’t done anything great. The god sent him back till he found something worth fighting for.” Haliam let his words linger. A frog sang louder; puffing his chest, he repeated his call, desperate for a mate in the dark.

“Where is that boy from the well who fell trying to give me food all those springs ago?” he asked. “That boy would want more than this place.”

Scoffing, I turned away from him and the moon. My head shook. “That boy fell off a cliff and died,” I said.

“I don’t believe that. I won’t. Only one with a heart of courage would have pushed through the crowd to help me. That courage cannot be gone. The heart of the eagle lies inside you, Gaspare,” Haliam said, making a fist and pounding his chest.

“I failed. You never got my food,” I said.

Haliam quickly reached for my shoulder. With the hoarsest whisper, he said, “I feasted on more than food. All those people, all that hostility and anger that surrounded me, were defeated each time I remembered your courage. I made the trek across mountains here because your kindness reminded me good still existed.” Haliam looked at me, willing that boy from the past at my village’s well to stand in my place.