Prelude
Bersehir, Neceftasi district
It almost seemed like a dream. So surreal. Changes occur almost every day around the world, but not like this. This was different. The year is 1998; a warm June breeze embraced the nation followed by the rays of an exceptionally bright sun. There were no clouds in sight either. People were happy for once. On a day like this, no cloud could shroud the happiness obviously displayed on the faces of thousands of Barazians in the streets of Bersehir. And who could blame them? It’s the ideal life to be born a Turkish-Barazian – there was nothing to worry about, there was no starvation and there was certainly no crime. Not under this regime. Yes, the people gathered around the main square of Bersehir to see the man who was able to make this all possible. The Rehber himself, Serhan Oscelik, saviour and cleanser of the Turks and founder of the leading party known as the Milliyetci was about to pay a visit and address the crowd. It was a gift really. Nobody, not even the municipal officials knew of this visit.
Among one of the admirers was Ahmed Kaya, a decorated naval soldier who had done wonders in the coup of 1992. Though Ahmed quite frequently leaves home for military training and random expeditions, he always tried to find the time to take his little boy Liev to gatherings such as this one.
The balcony of the town square was decorated with red, yellow and black – the official colours of Barazi and its flag. It was just a matter of time before the Rehber would emerge from behind those glass doors and address the public following an astonishing roar of supporters saluting their leader. Ahmed was proud today. He even wore his naval uniform as did many other soldiers in the front row with him. His wife Dilara turned to him and smiled while holding on to her son’s hand. She knelt down beside her son and pointed to the decorated platform. “Look up there Liev!” She pointed “Maybe some day you will be worthy enough to stand there like the Rehber will do today.” She encouraged him continuously – almost every day in fact. It was clear what Liev’s parents wanted for him.
The anticipation grew larger for the speech to begin. This could take some toll on a seven year old boy like Liev who was an adventurous tot and did not want to stand around waiting for some grown-up to talk to him. Though he never said this out loud. Finally Liev tugged on his father’s green and red pant leg, “May I please go now father. I told Osman that I would go to the hill this afternoon. It is now two o’clock!” He pled. His father took a deep breath and noticed his wife tilt her head to the left. He remembered what it was like to be seven and full of energy. “You may go, but...” He looked at his son with a fixed gaze of deep brown eyes, “remember where you are not to wander of to. Do you understand?”
“Yes father I know. I am not to wander off into the north woods.” He recited as if he had been preached the same thing since birth. Come to think of it, he has.
“Be careful.” Dilara worried. Liev felt like he’d been freed from prison and ran towards his friend Osman whose father was in the air force row to the left of his position. The children ran through the crowd of waving flags and cheering voices to go have fun like any child should. There was a usual spot where the children played. It was a hill to the north of the town that was unmistakable because of the single oak tree piercing from under the ground.
“I’ll race you to the oak tree!” Osman challenged his friend and laughed. Liev was always up for a challenge but moaned as his buddy ran ahead before the countdown.
“Hey that’s not fair!” He complained but then began to run twice as fast. Reaching the oak tree, the pair noticed a poster which had been nailed to their childhood shrine. It seemed like an odd place for advertisement – even the kids knew that. The picture displayed the communist emblem known as the hammer and sickle being relatively crushed by the nationalist symbol of Barazi, the ram’s horn kilim.
“Look at what they did to our tree!” Liev howled and reached out to rip it off. But before he could do so, Osman placed his hand upon his friend’s wrist.
“You’d better not.” He warned. “My dad said we can get in a lot of trouble taking down the Rehber’s pictures.”
“Why would the Rehber put it here though?” Liev didn’t quite understand and look to his friend for information. Osman was always the one with the answers to what seemed to be life’s toughest questions at the ripe age of seven.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I…we, can’t touch it.” Osman explained. This seemed reasonable for Liev. Then a cunning grin was plastered over his face.
“Do you always do what you’re told Osman?”
The boy hesitated, “Of course I don’t!” He hung his head down and peered back up, “I do what I want when I want to do it.” He explained firmly.
“Alright then…” Liev smiled and looked onward north to where the tall eastern European woods stood in all its majestic glory. “Then I suppose you’re brave enough to go to the woods with me?” He suggested. Osman talked tough, but he was never one to be the first to go somewhere where he was told never to travel to. Osman scratched his head in thought. “Thought so.” Liev shrugged. He knew his friend only too well. “I’ll just have to go by myself.” He uttered and began to walk towards the forbidden forest northward. Liev had time to take maybe five steps until Osman joined him.
“Fine, I’ll go with you. But we’re not racing there.” He laughed.
The boys had reached the threshold separating the woods and field. From a distance, they heard the crowd cheer. “Do you hear that?” Osman peered back south. “The Rehber must be there!”
“My dad said the Rehber and his min…minst…”
“Ministers?” Osman continued.
“Yes, ministers. The Rehber and his ministers have been in town for a week and nobody knew about it. My dad knows about it because of his connections to the army.” Liev explained. “Talk about a quiet guy.”
“Maybe we should go back…” Osman begged as the cheering had captivated his seven year old imagination. Liev shook his head.
“This is the closest I’ve ever been to these woods – I’m not turning back now.” He confirmed. Osman shrugged his shoulders, turned around and ran back to the square. He waved to Liev from a distance that, in his turn, walked into the woods. The boys were separated. Liev was amazed at what he saw. It was like a different world in these woods and he could not understand why his father had such ill-feelings towards it. The sun rays pierced between the leaves and branches revealing nature’s beauty within. Birds chirped and small animals ran about – it was something to see. This isn’t so bad, he thought to himself.
Liev had been walking for a few minutes now and he began to get cold. The warm breeze went away and the afternoon chills had arrived. Liev grew tired and bored. He wished Osman had come with him. Finally he turned back and began to walk towards town. Dead in his tracks however, Liev froze after hearing a familiar sound. It was like a high-pitched roar, not human but that of an animal. He thought about it and realised he’d crossed paths with a lynx, though he could not yet see it. The boys stood still and began to breathe heavily. As soon as he heard the sound again, he changed his mind and began running faster and deeper into the forest. As he ran past the bushes and bugs, he always looked back to see where his hunter was. Still, there was no lynx to be seen but only heard.
He ran faster and faster – losing all sense of what was going on as he grew fatigued. Then in the midst of his sprint, he tripped over a root sticking out of the ground and fell face forward into a mucky pit at a lower level than the forest ground. Scratched and bruised, the boy poked his head up and realised the chase was over. He heard nothing. It was eerie. The mud was thick and he groaned as he realised he’d gotten some in his mouth. “Damn.” He uttered – hoping no adult was around to hear it.
The pit was vast and covered with freshly planted trees all aligned in different rows. It was a man-made garden for sure. Liev’s right leg was stuck deep within the mud. He struggled to pull himself free and found it to be unsuccessful. Then looking to his left, he saw something sparkling in the mud. He reached out and began to claw and dig for it. He’d completely abandoned getting free. All he wanted was the shiny object within. He finally got a firm grip on what he had discovered to be a diamond ring.
The wind was now blowing heavily as he grasped the diamond stud. Then to his absolute horror, Liev realised that the ring he’d been pulling on was still wrapped around the finger of its host. He instantly began to cry. As he now took focus on his surroundings, Liev saw more fingers, hands, legs and even faces – all of them mangled, cold and dead. He screamed like a boy should never scream according to the Rehber’s standards. Liev was lying in a grave. The trees were planted to hide the travesty from under. He was now panicking and desperately trying to free his leg and run away as fast as he could. Death by lynx-mauling sounded pretty good right about now. All he could see was the face of the woman whose ring he grasped and suddenly he felt someone pulling his right arm.
“Let me go!” He cried and kicked. Everything was hazy and confusing. He was then calmed by a familiar voice.
“Liev!” The voice said. He looked up drenched in mud and saw his father looking right at him with the same angry brown eyes as before. Osman, who had his finger in his mouth and who was crying, was only a few steps away.
“Daddy I…” the boy was struck on the wrist.
“I told you never to go in the forest.”
Chapter One to come