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Literature Text
It was a cursed day, so cold that your clothes stuck to your skin with every step, your nostrils were glued together with every breath and your heart cried out in fear of frost, unable to hide away even in the deepest part of your chest. The bodies of dead seagulls, victims of the coldest winter that the Greek settlers could remember, lay on the ground, ready for the taking by any starved man or beast. The sea was, for once, silent and still, draped in heavy ice, powerless before a crueler mistress.
Trudging his feet through the snow, grateful for his thick, fur coat, yet still cursing his coming to this side of the world, Judas made his way towards the tavern. Every now and then he spared a glance eastwards, towards the rising sun that glinted blindingly on the white ice of the Black Sea, burning the sight, but radiating no heat.
How mad he had been to leave Jerusalem! Or how foolish not to have gone elsewhere, in gentler places, with soft winters and cool summers. Why these Greek shores of the Euxinus? But perhaps it was his curse that where his feet should lead him, there pain and sorrow would follow. Maybe it did not matter where he went, this fool who had dared to rise his hand against the Messiah, maybe he would always be followed by the shadow of his murder, the earth and wind and fire and water all conspiring against him, showering him with their dislike. Should that be the case, he would prepare himself for a life of hardship, but he'd be darkly cheerful, for who could stop him being so? He'd laugh bitterly in the face of God and in that of the Devil, too! Away with them and their ploys and games and wars that spanned the whole world and more, away with all that great struggle, which seemed to him to be so foolish now. He'd be a hermit, far from them both, in a world that, yea, was the creation of one and the playground of the other, but too small to count. He'd get lost in it and maybe they'd forget him until the end of times, as was his wish.
He reached the tavern and pushed open the door, heavily leaning against it with all his might to get it unstuck. The owner, who was probably tucked in bed under the covers, holding his wife's body close to his own for heat, minded no guests in this weather. He'd had his boys, lads of fourteen and sixteen, keep the fire alive throughout the night and to let in any visitors, customers or nay, and give them blankets for warmth.
Judas could almost see Jesus's face before him, soft and kind, nodding in approval. All men are brothers. All men are neighbors. Yea, Judas, Jews and Romans alike, and the peoples of the East and all whom you meet: care for them as if they were kin and forgive them their faults. Have you forgiven me, then, brother? he asked the memory. Your blood on my hands, your life sold for nothing. Have you forgiven me, brother? He fancied that the Messiah looked at him melancholy, his sparkling eyes dulled, expressive, but untranslatable. You tell me something, but I do not understand it. If we were face to face, would you reveal to me the words I can't hear now? I feel your light, but what it is, I cannot grasp. I cannot see. Why do I feel that it is not your forgiveness that you wish to grant me, but so much more? You and your kingdom of heaven! I want your answer and you give me God's! As it had always been, for that matter. God had stolen Jesus and made him the Messiah. The twinkling-eyed storyteller, the trickster, the smiling friend of old gave more than he should have given and saved each and every last drop of his self for the selfish being that had called his name. His voice dripped the divinity's name, the divinity's words, the divinity's message until, at last, it nearly lost the man within.
Huddled beneath a blanket for warmth, Judas threw more wood on the dying fire, bringing it back to life.
"They say that Joseph or Arimathea is going to convert Britannia to the new faith," a voice said. Judas turned slowly. Exhaustion and frost had taken their toll on him. He was too numb to feel surprised at the visitation, but maybe he would have felt the same way had he been at his best. Too often now had this other being - this other tyrant - shown up in his life for it to be a cause for shock anymore.
"He is a good man," the Apostle replied evenly. He tried to remember the face of the one who had donated his tomb for Christ's burial and found that it was blurry in his mind. By that time, he had been hiding from the others and could not thank Joseph for his kind act, he could not meet him, speak to him, embrace him. Yet that did not prevent him from hearing of his worth. "But such news is more your concern than mine, Lucifer."
The Devil stepped closer and sat down next to Judas. His innocent curly blond hair and baby-blue eyes clashed horridly with the sneer on his lips. His naked body was beautifully sculpted and grotesque at the same time. His feet were an animal's, covered with fur, ending in hooves, his wings began as an eagle's, brown and feathery, but their plumage became scarcer and scarcer towards the tips, which were undoubtedly like a bat's. There was no part of him that, taken separately, was ugly or deformed. All was beautiful, all was graceful, but there was such a wrongness about him, such an unnaturalness, such a mockery of humanity and nature, that one felt one's very soul scream in horrified disgust and terror. He was neither fat, nor thin, but one could swear that he was both. His skin was smooth and pale, but it seemed as tainted as a leper's. He was not without love, but it was twisted within him beyond cruelty and madness, reaching out to destroy all that it touched. It brought tumors, cancers, mindless addiction and self-destruction. The Devil was not without charm, but had corrupted it until it made one madder than insanity would. His tongue was a flickering ribbon entering the ear to lick away the brain unto its tip, enslaving man forever, making him lose thought and mind and become an empty puppet. In just the same way, all qualities that could be had existed within them, but perverted beyond any measure.
Despite the rumors that were spreading with the speed of fire, Judas had never sold his soul to this being. Nobody, whether in their right mind or not, ever would.
"How's your Jesus?" Lucifer asked, grinning. "He was such a liar, that one." His voice, of light conversation, tinkled around Judas's ears. "Such pretty tales! Not a whit of truth without his making it better. Charming. He was better than God, you know. Nicer. Fairer. More clever."
Judas didn't answer. There was no point in arguing with the Devil. Had he been younger, the words might have riled him up in some way or another. Yea, the Lucifer's words and meanings aside, Judas himself was of the opinion that Jesus had invented more than was strictly necessary. Rumor said that Mary, his mother, had actually been violently abused when she was fifteen, picking fruit from a tree outside the Temple at dusk. Then, Jesus would be the son of a flesh and blood father, not the Son of God born from the womb of a virgin. Yet the glittering-eyed young man had bravely faced the crowds. "I am the Son of God," he said. "And an archangel foretold my birth to my mother. As I was born, three wise men from the East came to bring me gifts." On another occasion, he claimed that it had been shepherds who had come to greet him into the world. Judas had pulled him aside, which none other of the Apostles had thought of doing, and asked: "Well, then, which one is it? Wise men or shepherds? Was your mother really told by an archangel or nay?" Jesus had smiled and put his arms around Judas's shoulders. "Both," he had said. "Or none. To you alone, I'll say this: that what is in the world of the spirit is sometimes best claimed to be in the world of the body, so it would give the body more strength to aid the spirit."
Now, as Judas sat watching the fire, he knew that the Devil was not really trying to shake him. He'd given up on that a long time before, choosing instead to infuriate the Apostle, to make him stop thinking enough to say the wrong word at the wrong time. It was too cold that day, however, even for the Apostle's fiery blood to rise.
"You had better run North, little Apostle," Lucifer said, with his own sort of care and compassion. "Your brother--" He stopped, as if a thought occurred to him. "Do you think the other Apostles would still call you 'brother'? Probably not. What a pity, I suppose they wouldn't do it if you actually were anybody's real brother." Despite himself, Judas felt a pang. No matter how low and mean the Devil was, no matter his decision to disregard that being, his exile hung hard against his neck and any touch on it was painful. "Well, who knows," the Devil went on. "As I was saying, your no longer brother Andrew is coming this way to preach to the wolf people. Maybe they'll kill him. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Judas didn't rise to answer that. "Maybe they'll throw him on spears as a messenger to their gods. They do that, you know, the people around these parts. Or maybe he'll tame them and turn their wolf spirits into dogs. They'll come running to lick his hands, kiss him, embrace him. Corrupt him. He's not like his actual brother, whom Jesus called 'Peter', who's hard as stone, but they'll make him hard as stone, if you know what I mean--"
"He's a good man, Andrew," Judas repeated the words he had said of Joseph just to interrupt that trail of thought. He looked at the Archenemy evenly.
The Devil considered continuing his vision of the corruption of Andrew anyway, but then switched strategies. His voice became sweet as honey and compassionate, worried. "It is only you who does nothing in the name of the Messiah."
"I am supposedly dead. Matthew recorded it faithfully."
"Suicide did not seem to put a dampener on your spirits," the Devil laughed. Despite the calm of bodily exhaustion, Judas felt a deep desire to strangle the other. "You owe me for getting you out of the noose. And by the by, since only Matthew actually saw you hanging, Luke gave you another death in his recording of the acts of the Apostles. He says you bought land with the money you got for your betrayal, but fell down dead, your guts sprawling."
"Splendid," Judas muttered. "But it is not only I that owe you. You owe me for selling Jesus. Our services to each other are not equally great - I did not care to live, but you did want him dead. You did me no favor, I did you a great one."
The anticipation that rolled off the Archenemy when he heard these words made Judas's skin crawl. "Then I shall pay you! What shall it be? Riches? Women? Power? Name it." And be damned to be bound to me forever, for I won't let you go with a single demand, was what he did not say.
Yet there was one demand he could make safely. "Nothing. I want nothing. I want you to go away and never touch me, either through your own power, or through your servants'. That is all."
"Nothing?" Lucifer got up enraged, his winds spreading so large that they seemed to occupy the entire room. His fury was terrible and it had no mock-companionship to take the edge off the worst of it. "You are a spoilsport, Judas!" he said, but the tone which was meant to be petulant and chiding was angry instead. "You and I, we fit together so well! The Archenemy and the man who killed God's son, we..."
There was no 'we'. There was no real proposal here, no reaching out for companionship, just mad words thrown at the man who had been an Apostle for daring to trick the Devil out of ever trying to tempt him again. "Away. If you can keep your word, Lucifer, stay away forever."
The Devil roared so hard that the door shook open and the fire was nearly extinguished; the benches and tables and blankets trembled as if during an earthquake. The wall cracked. Yet Judas did not flinch. "So be it," said the Archenemy and vanished.
Judas rose, closed the door that had been thrown open and returned to the fire. He wondered if the owner had woken, afraid, or whether what had happened had been only his to see and hear. He looked at the fire and threw more wood unto it. The Devil, therefore, was gone. From God he only ever heard feeble calls and promises - and those he could swat away less difficultly. He would now be a hermit, not bound to the hell below, nor to the heaven above. Free from man, unafraid of nature. As he had wished. Yet he was not free from thoughts that were no less oppressive than the Devil.
"Jesus, what have you done to me?" he asked, for the hundredth, thousandth, infinite time, speaking aloud as if the man were there. "You fool, you and your God." Jesus, the sweet, the loving, the caring, him of the smile and the sparkling eyes that the others never really understood. Had Judas been tricked, coaxed, or just stupid in his betrayal? Played, used, discarded, loved or lost?
Again and again he'd gone over his memories until they were as battered as old papyrus, modified by his imagination, by his imperfect recollection. No matter how hard he tried to regain the original ones, he was forever doomed to think back on something that slipped through his fingers like water, now gold, now red, now black, a strange night-colored rainbow that made no sense in any shape he tried to fit it in.
Had he really been approached by that first Roman guard, or had he himself approached him?
He remembered it was night. Going to get food, he'd stumbled on the Latin-speaking dog, who had recognized Judas's wild red hair better than he could recognize the Messiah himself. He demanded to know where this Prophet, this madman who wanted to overthrow the Romans and bring on a new kingdom was. Who knew, who knew, Judas replied. He, the Iscariot, was following a friend, a good man, who told people to pay their debts to the Cesar and not kill prostitutes. That was all. No fights, no overthrowing.
Afterward, Judas had told Jesus of it. "They are searching for you," he'd said. But Jesus had not paid heed. And then, and then... Fragments.
Would you die for me, Judas? Yea, indeed I would. How about for God? Nay, I could care less. Why do you love me so, brother? Wish that I knew. Is it not enough that I do? Magdalene and I, we are the same. But Judas, in me she loves God, not the man. One needs no reason to love God. But you do not love Him. He has stolen you away, brother. He is cruel, demanding and selfish. I pray that one day you will understand. Until then, I shall give myself to you.
Had he been too honest, too blunt, too foolish? Had Jesus come to hate him for his obstinacy, for his denial of God? Had he despised him? Nay, he couldn't have.
Judas imagined the conversation that had never happened, the questions that were never put, the answers that were never given. Would you do anything I asked of you, Judas? Aid me in all ways? If I could, yea. Hurt yourself? Without a second thought. But would you hurt me, if I asked it of you? Should you want it, should you need it, I would, yes. Even as my heart would bleed. Then put me on the cross, Judas. Make me immortal, because a lifetime is not enough for all that I must do. I need to die before I die, so that I may not die afterward. Is that how you meant it, when you said the same words two days ago? Was it a warning of your desire to sacrifice yourself? No, my friend. The same words can have very different meanings depending on when they are spoken.
Did Judas fall alone, his own foolishness bringing tragedy upon both him and Jesus? Did his stupid plans to confuse the Romans fail by themselves, the bribe money for the guards not taken because he had underestimated their honesty? That kiss, that foolish kiss that had sealed it all, had he given it himself? Or had Jesus requested it, wishing for his friend's touch to be the last he ever felt?
You and your God and heaven! Judas swore. His jealousy of God - was it for that reason that he had betrayed Jesus, if he had indeed betrayed him? Was that ugly feeling what made his heart leap from his chest with joy when he'd found out that the Messiah, the one Messiah, the Son of God, had said, 'Eli Eli lama sabachthani'? How happy he had felt! For a single moment, Judas been stronger than God. He had never had Jesus entirely, but for a second, God had not had him, either! He had stomped his foot down and said to Him, 'You are not all-powerful and I, I too have sway over a part of Jesus's heart!'
But maybe it hadn't been like that at all. Maybe he had been less jealous than he remembered now, guilt adding to his memories, twisting them, making them horrendous, grotesque, mad. How could he ever delight in hurting Jesus? How could he ever be that insane? No. Maybe it had been The Messiah who had tricked him, who had known that Judas did not mind being used and misused in any way by his friend. And Jesus had done for God no less than what Judas would have done from Jesus. Had it been trust, then? Ultimate, unspoken trust? The knowledge that Judas would aid him even when the outcome would be this? Who else could be entrusted with this mission of hurting the man they loved most? Peter, who denied Jesus thrice before the cock crowed? John, who would probably have grabbed him and hidden him away rather than relinquish him to death? Maybe it had been not terrible selfishness that had guided Judas's actions, but utter selflessness. He had given all, even that which he was fighting for and now was left with nothing.
Huddling even closer to the fire, Judas closed his eyes. There was no answer to be found now, nothing to do but get the thoughts to cease struggling in his mind and let his body rest. Tomorrow he would indeed go away and leave this land to Andrew, disappearing like a shadow that leaves no mark wherever it goes. He would never meet another Apostle again. There was nothing for them to share, no matter what had happened. They had God and the Messiah - Son of God, Son of Man - and all the struggle of mankind on their shoulders. Judas had loneliness and Jesus - son of Mary and of Joseph - and the eternal silent waiting for the return of a friend.
Trudging his feet through the snow, grateful for his thick, fur coat, yet still cursing his coming to this side of the world, Judas made his way towards the tavern. Every now and then he spared a glance eastwards, towards the rising sun that glinted blindingly on the white ice of the Black Sea, burning the sight, but radiating no heat.
How mad he had been to leave Jerusalem! Or how foolish not to have gone elsewhere, in gentler places, with soft winters and cool summers. Why these Greek shores of the Euxinus? But perhaps it was his curse that where his feet should lead him, there pain and sorrow would follow. Maybe it did not matter where he went, this fool who had dared to rise his hand against the Messiah, maybe he would always be followed by the shadow of his murder, the earth and wind and fire and water all conspiring against him, showering him with their dislike. Should that be the case, he would prepare himself for a life of hardship, but he'd be darkly cheerful, for who could stop him being so? He'd laugh bitterly in the face of God and in that of the Devil, too! Away with them and their ploys and games and wars that spanned the whole world and more, away with all that great struggle, which seemed to him to be so foolish now. He'd be a hermit, far from them both, in a world that, yea, was the creation of one and the playground of the other, but too small to count. He'd get lost in it and maybe they'd forget him until the end of times, as was his wish.
He reached the tavern and pushed open the door, heavily leaning against it with all his might to get it unstuck. The owner, who was probably tucked in bed under the covers, holding his wife's body close to his own for heat, minded no guests in this weather. He'd had his boys, lads of fourteen and sixteen, keep the fire alive throughout the night and to let in any visitors, customers or nay, and give them blankets for warmth.
Judas could almost see Jesus's face before him, soft and kind, nodding in approval. All men are brothers. All men are neighbors. Yea, Judas, Jews and Romans alike, and the peoples of the East and all whom you meet: care for them as if they were kin and forgive them their faults. Have you forgiven me, then, brother? he asked the memory. Your blood on my hands, your life sold for nothing. Have you forgiven me, brother? He fancied that the Messiah looked at him melancholy, his sparkling eyes dulled, expressive, but untranslatable. You tell me something, but I do not understand it. If we were face to face, would you reveal to me the words I can't hear now? I feel your light, but what it is, I cannot grasp. I cannot see. Why do I feel that it is not your forgiveness that you wish to grant me, but so much more? You and your kingdom of heaven! I want your answer and you give me God's! As it had always been, for that matter. God had stolen Jesus and made him the Messiah. The twinkling-eyed storyteller, the trickster, the smiling friend of old gave more than he should have given and saved each and every last drop of his self for the selfish being that had called his name. His voice dripped the divinity's name, the divinity's words, the divinity's message until, at last, it nearly lost the man within.
Huddled beneath a blanket for warmth, Judas threw more wood on the dying fire, bringing it back to life.
"They say that Joseph or Arimathea is going to convert Britannia to the new faith," a voice said. Judas turned slowly. Exhaustion and frost had taken their toll on him. He was too numb to feel surprised at the visitation, but maybe he would have felt the same way had he been at his best. Too often now had this other being - this other tyrant - shown up in his life for it to be a cause for shock anymore.
"He is a good man," the Apostle replied evenly. He tried to remember the face of the one who had donated his tomb for Christ's burial and found that it was blurry in his mind. By that time, he had been hiding from the others and could not thank Joseph for his kind act, he could not meet him, speak to him, embrace him. Yet that did not prevent him from hearing of his worth. "But such news is more your concern than mine, Lucifer."
The Devil stepped closer and sat down next to Judas. His innocent curly blond hair and baby-blue eyes clashed horridly with the sneer on his lips. His naked body was beautifully sculpted and grotesque at the same time. His feet were an animal's, covered with fur, ending in hooves, his wings began as an eagle's, brown and feathery, but their plumage became scarcer and scarcer towards the tips, which were undoubtedly like a bat's. There was no part of him that, taken separately, was ugly or deformed. All was beautiful, all was graceful, but there was such a wrongness about him, such an unnaturalness, such a mockery of humanity and nature, that one felt one's very soul scream in horrified disgust and terror. He was neither fat, nor thin, but one could swear that he was both. His skin was smooth and pale, but it seemed as tainted as a leper's. He was not without love, but it was twisted within him beyond cruelty and madness, reaching out to destroy all that it touched. It brought tumors, cancers, mindless addiction and self-destruction. The Devil was not without charm, but had corrupted it until it made one madder than insanity would. His tongue was a flickering ribbon entering the ear to lick away the brain unto its tip, enslaving man forever, making him lose thought and mind and become an empty puppet. In just the same way, all qualities that could be had existed within them, but perverted beyond any measure.
Despite the rumors that were spreading with the speed of fire, Judas had never sold his soul to this being. Nobody, whether in their right mind or not, ever would.
"How's your Jesus?" Lucifer asked, grinning. "He was such a liar, that one." His voice, of light conversation, tinkled around Judas's ears. "Such pretty tales! Not a whit of truth without his making it better. Charming. He was better than God, you know. Nicer. Fairer. More clever."
Judas didn't answer. There was no point in arguing with the Devil. Had he been younger, the words might have riled him up in some way or another. Yea, the Lucifer's words and meanings aside, Judas himself was of the opinion that Jesus had invented more than was strictly necessary. Rumor said that Mary, his mother, had actually been violently abused when she was fifteen, picking fruit from a tree outside the Temple at dusk. Then, Jesus would be the son of a flesh and blood father, not the Son of God born from the womb of a virgin. Yet the glittering-eyed young man had bravely faced the crowds. "I am the Son of God," he said. "And an archangel foretold my birth to my mother. As I was born, three wise men from the East came to bring me gifts." On another occasion, he claimed that it had been shepherds who had come to greet him into the world. Judas had pulled him aside, which none other of the Apostles had thought of doing, and asked: "Well, then, which one is it? Wise men or shepherds? Was your mother really told by an archangel or nay?" Jesus had smiled and put his arms around Judas's shoulders. "Both," he had said. "Or none. To you alone, I'll say this: that what is in the world of the spirit is sometimes best claimed to be in the world of the body, so it would give the body more strength to aid the spirit."
Now, as Judas sat watching the fire, he knew that the Devil was not really trying to shake him. He'd given up on that a long time before, choosing instead to infuriate the Apostle, to make him stop thinking enough to say the wrong word at the wrong time. It was too cold that day, however, even for the Apostle's fiery blood to rise.
"You had better run North, little Apostle," Lucifer said, with his own sort of care and compassion. "Your brother--" He stopped, as if a thought occurred to him. "Do you think the other Apostles would still call you 'brother'? Probably not. What a pity, I suppose they wouldn't do it if you actually were anybody's real brother." Despite himself, Judas felt a pang. No matter how low and mean the Devil was, no matter his decision to disregard that being, his exile hung hard against his neck and any touch on it was painful. "Well, who knows," the Devil went on. "As I was saying, your no longer brother Andrew is coming this way to preach to the wolf people. Maybe they'll kill him. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Judas didn't rise to answer that. "Maybe they'll throw him on spears as a messenger to their gods. They do that, you know, the people around these parts. Or maybe he'll tame them and turn their wolf spirits into dogs. They'll come running to lick his hands, kiss him, embrace him. Corrupt him. He's not like his actual brother, whom Jesus called 'Peter', who's hard as stone, but they'll make him hard as stone, if you know what I mean--"
"He's a good man, Andrew," Judas repeated the words he had said of Joseph just to interrupt that trail of thought. He looked at the Archenemy evenly.
The Devil considered continuing his vision of the corruption of Andrew anyway, but then switched strategies. His voice became sweet as honey and compassionate, worried. "It is only you who does nothing in the name of the Messiah."
"I am supposedly dead. Matthew recorded it faithfully."
"Suicide did not seem to put a dampener on your spirits," the Devil laughed. Despite the calm of bodily exhaustion, Judas felt a deep desire to strangle the other. "You owe me for getting you out of the noose. And by the by, since only Matthew actually saw you hanging, Luke gave you another death in his recording of the acts of the Apostles. He says you bought land with the money you got for your betrayal, but fell down dead, your guts sprawling."
"Splendid," Judas muttered. "But it is not only I that owe you. You owe me for selling Jesus. Our services to each other are not equally great - I did not care to live, but you did want him dead. You did me no favor, I did you a great one."
The anticipation that rolled off the Archenemy when he heard these words made Judas's skin crawl. "Then I shall pay you! What shall it be? Riches? Women? Power? Name it." And be damned to be bound to me forever, for I won't let you go with a single demand, was what he did not say.
Yet there was one demand he could make safely. "Nothing. I want nothing. I want you to go away and never touch me, either through your own power, or through your servants'. That is all."
"Nothing?" Lucifer got up enraged, his winds spreading so large that they seemed to occupy the entire room. His fury was terrible and it had no mock-companionship to take the edge off the worst of it. "You are a spoilsport, Judas!" he said, but the tone which was meant to be petulant and chiding was angry instead. "You and I, we fit together so well! The Archenemy and the man who killed God's son, we..."
There was no 'we'. There was no real proposal here, no reaching out for companionship, just mad words thrown at the man who had been an Apostle for daring to trick the Devil out of ever trying to tempt him again. "Away. If you can keep your word, Lucifer, stay away forever."
The Devil roared so hard that the door shook open and the fire was nearly extinguished; the benches and tables and blankets trembled as if during an earthquake. The wall cracked. Yet Judas did not flinch. "So be it," said the Archenemy and vanished.
Judas rose, closed the door that had been thrown open and returned to the fire. He wondered if the owner had woken, afraid, or whether what had happened had been only his to see and hear. He looked at the fire and threw more wood unto it. The Devil, therefore, was gone. From God he only ever heard feeble calls and promises - and those he could swat away less difficultly. He would now be a hermit, not bound to the hell below, nor to the heaven above. Free from man, unafraid of nature. As he had wished. Yet he was not free from thoughts that were no less oppressive than the Devil.
"Jesus, what have you done to me?" he asked, for the hundredth, thousandth, infinite time, speaking aloud as if the man were there. "You fool, you and your God." Jesus, the sweet, the loving, the caring, him of the smile and the sparkling eyes that the others never really understood. Had Judas been tricked, coaxed, or just stupid in his betrayal? Played, used, discarded, loved or lost?
Again and again he'd gone over his memories until they were as battered as old papyrus, modified by his imagination, by his imperfect recollection. No matter how hard he tried to regain the original ones, he was forever doomed to think back on something that slipped through his fingers like water, now gold, now red, now black, a strange night-colored rainbow that made no sense in any shape he tried to fit it in.
Had he really been approached by that first Roman guard, or had he himself approached him?
He remembered it was night. Going to get food, he'd stumbled on the Latin-speaking dog, who had recognized Judas's wild red hair better than he could recognize the Messiah himself. He demanded to know where this Prophet, this madman who wanted to overthrow the Romans and bring on a new kingdom was. Who knew, who knew, Judas replied. He, the Iscariot, was following a friend, a good man, who told people to pay their debts to the Cesar and not kill prostitutes. That was all. No fights, no overthrowing.
Afterward, Judas had told Jesus of it. "They are searching for you," he'd said. But Jesus had not paid heed. And then, and then... Fragments.
Would you die for me, Judas? Yea, indeed I would. How about for God? Nay, I could care less. Why do you love me so, brother? Wish that I knew. Is it not enough that I do? Magdalene and I, we are the same. But Judas, in me she loves God, not the man. One needs no reason to love God. But you do not love Him. He has stolen you away, brother. He is cruel, demanding and selfish. I pray that one day you will understand. Until then, I shall give myself to you.
Had he been too honest, too blunt, too foolish? Had Jesus come to hate him for his obstinacy, for his denial of God? Had he despised him? Nay, he couldn't have.
Judas imagined the conversation that had never happened, the questions that were never put, the answers that were never given. Would you do anything I asked of you, Judas? Aid me in all ways? If I could, yea. Hurt yourself? Without a second thought. But would you hurt me, if I asked it of you? Should you want it, should you need it, I would, yes. Even as my heart would bleed. Then put me on the cross, Judas. Make me immortal, because a lifetime is not enough for all that I must do. I need to die before I die, so that I may not die afterward. Is that how you meant it, when you said the same words two days ago? Was it a warning of your desire to sacrifice yourself? No, my friend. The same words can have very different meanings depending on when they are spoken.
Did Judas fall alone, his own foolishness bringing tragedy upon both him and Jesus? Did his stupid plans to confuse the Romans fail by themselves, the bribe money for the guards not taken because he had underestimated their honesty? That kiss, that foolish kiss that had sealed it all, had he given it himself? Or had Jesus requested it, wishing for his friend's touch to be the last he ever felt?
You and your God and heaven! Judas swore. His jealousy of God - was it for that reason that he had betrayed Jesus, if he had indeed betrayed him? Was that ugly feeling what made his heart leap from his chest with joy when he'd found out that the Messiah, the one Messiah, the Son of God, had said, 'Eli Eli lama sabachthani'? How happy he had felt! For a single moment, Judas been stronger than God. He had never had Jesus entirely, but for a second, God had not had him, either! He had stomped his foot down and said to Him, 'You are not all-powerful and I, I too have sway over a part of Jesus's heart!'
But maybe it hadn't been like that at all. Maybe he had been less jealous than he remembered now, guilt adding to his memories, twisting them, making them horrendous, grotesque, mad. How could he ever delight in hurting Jesus? How could he ever be that insane? No. Maybe it had been The Messiah who had tricked him, who had known that Judas did not mind being used and misused in any way by his friend. And Jesus had done for God no less than what Judas would have done from Jesus. Had it been trust, then? Ultimate, unspoken trust? The knowledge that Judas would aid him even when the outcome would be this? Who else could be entrusted with this mission of hurting the man they loved most? Peter, who denied Jesus thrice before the cock crowed? John, who would probably have grabbed him and hidden him away rather than relinquish him to death? Maybe it had been not terrible selfishness that had guided Judas's actions, but utter selflessness. He had given all, even that which he was fighting for and now was left with nothing.
Huddling even closer to the fire, Judas closed his eyes. There was no answer to be found now, nothing to do but get the thoughts to cease struggling in his mind and let his body rest. Tomorrow he would indeed go away and leave this land to Andrew, disappearing like a shadow that leaves no mark wherever it goes. He would never meet another Apostle again. There was nothing for them to share, no matter what had happened. They had God and the Messiah - Son of God, Son of Man - and all the struggle of mankind on their shoulders. Judas had loneliness and Jesus - son of Mary and of Joseph - and the eternal silent waiting for the return of a friend.
I put this in the fantasy gallery instead of the 'spiritual' one because I'd rather not be beaten to death with bludgeons by Christians, thank you very much.
Consider it to be pure fantasy. A parallel world, maybe? Yep. Parallel world. With, erm, a different Judas? And a different Jesus? A trickster Jesus.
Plot bunnies are just weird.
Edit: it's actually been edited. A bit. May contain wtf words from half-edited parts. If you run across them, pointing them out is much appreciated.
Consider it to be pure fantasy. A parallel world, maybe? Yep. Parallel world. With, erm, a different Judas? And a different Jesus? A trickster Jesus.
Plot bunnies are just weird.
Edit: it's actually been edited. A bit. May contain wtf words from half-edited parts. If you run across them, pointing them out is much appreciated.
© 2010 - 2024 TheOtherSarshi
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Overall Vision
Originality Technique ImpactAnd, your beta read winning. You’ve gotten one of these before, so no pre-read bulloney. Except for I EFFING LOVE THIS FIC!
~~~
It was a cursed day, so [cold] that your clothes stuck to your skin with every step, your nostrils were glued together with every breath and your heart cried out in fear of frost, unable to hide away even in the deepest part of your chest. The bodies of dead seagulls, victims of the [cold JUST USED]est winter that the Greek settlers could remember, lay on the ground, ready for the taking by any starved man or beast. The sea was, for once, silent and still, draped in heavy ice, powerless before a crueler mistress. [AMAZING INTRO, BTW <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>]Trudging his feet through the snow, grateful for his thick, fur coat, [yet still cursing his coming to this side of the world THIS SEEMED A BIT EXTRANEOUS HERE. TMI. ANY WAY TO WORK HIS FEELINGS IN LATER?], Judas made his way towards the tavern. Every now and then he spared a glance eastward[sDELETE], towards the rising sun that glinted [blindingly UNNEEDED, SINCE LATER YOU SAY THE SUN BURNED THE SIGHT] [on YOU MEAN ‘OFF?’] the white ice of the [Black Sea I DIDN’T THINK GREECE TOUCHED THE BLACK SEA, EVEN IN ANCIENT TIMES. I’M NO HISTORY BUFF THOUGH], burning the sight, but radiating no heat.
[How mad he had been to leave Jerusalem! ACTUALLY, HERE’S HIS FEELINGS. VERY NICE <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>] Or how [foolish] not to have gone elsewhere, [in YOU MEAN ‘TO?’] gentler places, with soft winters and cool summers. Why these Greek shores of the Euxinus? [But UNNEEDED] perhaps it was his curse that where his feet should lead him, [there UNNEEDED] pain and sorrow would follow. Maybe it did not matter where he went, this [fool JUST USED] who had dared to rise his hand against the Messiah[.][DELETE,] maybe he would always be followed by the shadow of his murder, the earth and wind and fire and water all conspiring against him, showering him with their dislike. Should that be the case, he would prepare himself for a life of hardship, but he'd be darkly cheerful, for who could stop him being so? He'd laugh bitterly in the face of God and in that of the Devil, too! Away with them and their ploys and games and wars that spanned the whole world and more[.] [DELETE,] away with all that great struggle, which seemed to him to be so [foolish THIS WORD AGAIN <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Smile)"/>] now. He'd be a hermit, [far from them both ASSUMED BY MEANING OF HERMIT], in a world that, yea, was the creation of one and the playground of the other, but too small to count. He'd get lost in it and maybe they'd forget him until the end of times, as was his wish. [WONDERFUL NARRATIVE HERE, BTW. A NOTE... BE WARY OF OVERLONG SENTENCES. ALL THESE COMMAS SLOW DOWN YOUR PACING]He reached the tavern and pushed open the door, [heavily leaning OR YOU COULD DITCH THAT ICKY ADVERB AND JUST SAY ‘HEAVING’ <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/w…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Wink)"/>] against it [with all his might ASSUMED] to get it unstuck. The owner, who was probably tucked in bed [under the covers ASSUMED], [holding his wife's body close to his own for heat IS GREECE REALLY THAT COLD? I HONESTLY DON’T KNOW], minded no guests in this weather. He'd had his boys, lads of fourteen and sixteen, [TO] keep the fire alive throughout the night and to let in any visitors, [customers or nay, and give them blankets for warmth. TMI. LEAVING IT AT VISITORS CONVEYS THE POINT PERFECTLY]Judas could almost see Jesus's face before him, soft and kind, nodding in approval. All men are brothers. All men are neighbors. Yea, Judas, Jews and Romans alike, [andDELETE] the peoples of the East[,] and all whom you meet: care for them as if they were kin and forgive them their faults.
[NEW PARAGRAPH]Have you forgiven me, then, brother? he asked the memory. Your blood on my hands, your life sold for nothing. Have you forgiven me, brother?
[NEW PARAGRAPH]He fancied that the Messiah looked at him melancholy, his sparkling eyes dulled, expressive, but untranslatable.
[NEW PARA]You tell me something, but I do not understand it. If we were face to face, would you reveal to me the words I can't hear now? I feel your light, but what it is, I cannot grasp. I cannot see. Why do I feel that it is not your forgiveness that you wish to grant me, but so much more? You and your kingdom of heaven! I want your answer and you give me God's!
[NEW PARA]As it had always been, for that matter. God had stolen Jesus and made him the Messiah. The twinkling-eyed storyteller, the trickster, the smiling friend of old [WHO] gave more than he should have given and saved [each and every PICK ONE] last drop of his self for the [selfish UNNEEDED] being that had called his name. His voice dripped the divinity's name, the divinity's words, the divinity's message until, at last, it nearly lost the man within.
Huddled beneath a blanket for warmth, Judas threw more wood on the dying fire, bringing it back to life.
"They say that Joseph or Arimathea is going to convert Britannia to the new faith," a voice said.
[NEW PARA]Judas turned slowly. Exhaustion and frost had taken their toll [on him ASSUMED]. He was too numb to feel surprised at the visitation, but maybe he would have felt the same [way UNNEEDED] had he been at his best. Too often [now UNNEEDED] had this other being - this other tyrant - shown up in his life for it to be a [cause for UNNEEDED] shock anymore.
"He is a good man," the Apostle replied evenly.
[NEW PARA][He HE WHO? I ASSUME THIS IS JUDAS?] tried to remember the face of the one who had donated his tomb for Christ's burial and found that it was blurry in his mind. By that time, he had been hiding from the others and could not thank Joseph for his kind act[.][DELETE,] he could not meet him, speak to him, embrace him. Yet that did not prevent him from hearing of his worth. "But such news is more your concern than mine, Lucifer." [JUST A NOTE... THE NARRATIVE IN FRONT OF THIS DIALOGUE SEEMED OUT OF PLACE TO ME. IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH LUCIFER]
The Devil stepped closer and sat down next to Judas. His innocent curly blond hair and baby-blue eyes clashed [horridly UNNEEDED ADVERB] with the sneer on his lips. His naked body was beautifully sculpted and grotesque at the same time. His feet were an animal's, covered with fur, ending in hooves[.][DELETE,] his wings began as an eagle's, brown and feathery, but their plumage became scarcer [and scarcer UNNEEDED] towards the tips, which were [undoubtedly UNNEEDED] like a bat's.
[NEW PARA]There was no part of him that, taken separately, was ugly or deformed. All was beautiful, all was graceful, but there was such a wrongness about him, [suchUNNEEDED] an unnaturalness, [suchUNNEEDED] a mockery of humanity and nature, that one felt one's very soul scream in horrified disgust and terror. [He was neither fat, nor thin, but one could swear that he was both. His skin was smooth and pale, but it seemed as tainted as a leper's.THIS PART SEEMS OUT OF PLACE GIVEN THE PRIOR SENTENCE, WHICH TRANSITIONS FROM LUCIFER’S PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES TO HIS PERSONALITY] He was not without love, but it was twisted within him beyond cruelty and madness, reaching out to destroy all [that UNNEEDED] it touched. It brought tumors, cancers, mindless addiction and self-destruction. The Devil was not without charm, but [HE] had corrupted it until it made one madder than insanity would. His tongue was a flickering ribbon entering the ear to lick away the brain unto its tip, enslaving man forever, making him lose thought and mind [TO] [DELETEand] become an empty puppet. [In just the same way, all qualities that could be had existed within them, but perverted beyond any measure. HUH? THIS SENTENCE MIGHT NEED A BIT OF REWORDING]
Despite the rumors [that were UNNEEDED] spreading with the speed of fire, Judas had never sold his soul to this being. Nobody, whether in their right mind or not, ever would.
"How's your Jesus?" Lucifer asked, grinning. "He was such a liar, that one." His voice, of light conversation, tinkled around Judas's ears. "Such pretty tales! Not a whit of truth without his making it better. Charming. He was better than God, you know. Nicer. Fairer. More clever."
Judas didn't answer. There was no point in arguing with the Devil. Had he been younger, the words might have riled him up in some way or another. Yea, the Lucifer's words and meanings aside, Judas himself was of the opinion that Jesus had invented more than was strictly necessary.
[NEW PARA]Rumor said that Mary, his mother, had [actually UNNEEDED] been violently abused when she was fifteen, picking fruit from a tree outside the Temple at dusk. Then, Jesus would be the son of a flesh and blood father, not the Son of God born from the womb of a virgin. Yet the glittering-eyed young man had bravely faced the crowds. "I am the Son of God," he said. "And an archangel foretold my birth to my mother. As I was born, three wise men from the East came to bring me gifts."
[NEW PARA]On another occasion, he claimed [thatUNNEEDED] it had been shepherds who had come to greet him into the world. Judas had pulled him aside, which none other of the Apostles had thought of doing, and asked: "Well, then, which one is it? Wise men or shepherds? Was your mother really told by an archangel or nay?"
[NEW PARA]Jesus had smiled and put his arms around Judas's shoulders. "Both," he had said. "Or none. To you alone, I'll say this: that what is in the world of the spirit is sometimes best claimed to be in the world of the body, so it would give the body more strength to aid the spirit."
Now, as Judas sat watching the fire, he knew that the Devil was not really trying to shake him. He'd given up on that a long time before, choosing instead to infuriate the Apostle, to make him stop thinking enough to say the wrong word at the wrong time. It was too cold that day, however, even for the Apostle's fiery blood to rise.
"You had better run North, little Apostle," Lucifer said, with his own sort of care and compassion. "Your brother--" He stopped, as if a thought occurred to him. "Do you think the other Apostles would still call you 'brother'? Probably not. What a pity, I suppose they wouldn't do it if you actually were anybody's real brother."
[NEW PARA]Despite himself, Judas felt a pang [OF?]. No matter how low and mean the Devil was, [no matter his decision to disregard that being UNNEEDED], his exile hung hard against his neck and any touch on it was painful.
[NEW PARA]"Well, who knows," the Devil went on. "As I was saying, your no[-]longer[-]brother Andrew is coming this way to preach to the wolf people [NICE HISTORY TIDBIT HERE <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>]. Maybe they'll kill him. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" [NEW PARA]Judas didn't rise to answer that.
[NEW PARA]"Maybe they'll throw him on spears as a messenger to their gods. They do that, you know, the people around these parts. Or maybe he'll tame them and turn their wolf spirits into dogs. They'll come running to lick his hands, kiss him, embrace him. Corrupt him. He's not like his actual brother, whom Jesus called 'Peter', who's hard as stone, but they'll make him hard as stone, if you know what I mean--"
"He's a good man, Andrew," Judas repeated the words he had said of Joseph[,] just to interrupt that trail of thought. He looked at the Archenemy evenly.
[The Devil considered continuing his vision of the corruption of Andrew anyway, but then switched strategies. OUT OF POV] His voice became sweet as honey and compassionate, [worried UNNEEDED ADJECTIVE]. "It is only you who does nothing in the name of the Messiah."
"I am supposedly dead. Matthew recorded it faithfully."
"Suicide did not seem to put a dampener on your spirits[," the Devil laughed. NOT A DIALOGUE TAG]
[NEW PARA]Despite the [calm of bodily exhaustion NOT SURE IF CALM IS THE RIGHT ADJECTIVE FOR EXHAUSTION. HEAVINESS, WEIGHT, BURDEN?], Judas felt a deep desire to strangle the other.
[NEW PARA... YOU MUST SEPARATE ACTIONS/DIALOGUE OF ONE CHARACTER FROM THE ACTIONS DIALOGUE OF ANOTHER. IT MAKES FOR A CONFUSING READ. I ASSUME THIS IS LUCIFER SAYING THE FOLLOWING?]"You owe me for getting you out of the noose. And by the by, since only Matthew actually saw you hanging, Luke gave you another death in his recording of the acts of the Apostles. He says you bought land with the money you got for your betrayal, but fell down dead, your guts sprawling."
"Splendid," Judas muttered. "But it is not only I that owe you. You owe me for selling Jesus. Our services to each other are not equally great - I did not care to live, but you did want him dead. You did me no favor, I did you a great one."
The anticipation that rolled off the Archenemy when he heard these words made Judas's skin crawl. "Then I shall pay you! What shall it be? Riches? Women? Power? Name it." [And be damned to be bound to me forever, for I won't let you go with a single demand, was what he did not say. OUT OF POV]
Yet there was one demand [he HE WHO?] could make safely. "Nothing. I want nothing. I want you to go away and never touch me, either through your own power, or through your servants'. That is all."
"Nothing?" [Lucifer got up enraged, his winds spreading so large that they seemed to occupy the entire room. His fury was terrible and it had no mock-companionship to take the edge off the worst of it. TELLING. SHOW US THIS ENRAGED] "You are a spoilsport, Judas!" he said, but the tone [which was meant to be petulant and chiding OUT OF POV] was angry instead. "You and I, we fit together so well! The Archenemy and the man who killed God's son, [we..." WAS THIS AN INTERRUPT OR A TRAIL OFF?]
There was no 'we'. There was no real proposal here, no reaching out for companionship, just mad words thrown at the man who had been an Apostle for daring to trick the Devil out of ever trying to tempt him again. "Away. If you can keep your word, Lucifer, stay away forever."
The Devil roared so hard [that UNNEEDED] the door shook open and the fire was nearly extinguished[.][;DELETE] the benches and tables and blankets trembled as if during an earthquake. The wall [WHERE?] cracked. Yet Judas did not flinch.
[NEW PARA]"So be it," said the Archenemy and vanished.
Judas rose, closed the door [that had been thrown openUNNEEDED SINCE WE KNOW THIS] and returned to the fire. He wondered if the owner had woken[, afraidUNNEEDED], or whether [THE VISIT] [DELETEwhat had happened] had been only his to see and hear. He looked at the fire and threw more wood unto it. The Devil, therefore, was gone. From God [ONLY] he [DELETEonly] ever heard feeble calls and promises - and those he could swat away less difficultly. He would now be a hermit, not bound to the hell below, nor to the heaven above. Free from man, unafraid of nature. As he had wished.
[NEW PARA]Yet he was not free from thoughts that were no less oppressive than the Devil.
"Jesus, what have you done to me?" he asked, for the hundredth, thousandth, infinite time, speaking aloud as if the man were there. "You fool, you and your God."
[NEW PARA]Jesus, the sweet, the loving, the caring, him of the smile and the sparkling eyes that the others never really understood. Had Judas been tricked, coaxed, or just stupid in his betrayal? Played, used, discarded, loved or lost?
Again and again he'd gone over his memories until they were as battered as old papyrus, modified by his imagination, by his imperfect recollection. No matter how hard he tried to regain the original ones, he was forever doomed to think back on something that slipped through his fingers like water, now gold, now red, now black[.][DELETE,] a strange night-colored rainbow that made no sense in any shape he tried to fit it in.
Had he really been approached by that first Roman guard, or had he himself approached him?
He remembered it was night. Going to get food, he'd stumbled on the Latin-speaking dog, who had recognized Judas's wild red hair better than he could recognize the Messiah himself. [He HE WHO?] demanded to know where this Prophet, this madman who wanted to overthrow the Romans and bring on a new kingdom[,] was.
[NEW PARA]Who knew, who knew, Judas replied. He, the Iscariot, was following a friend, a good man, who told people to pay their debts to the Cesar and not kill prostitutes. That was all. No fights, no overthrowing.
Afterward, Judas had told Jesus of it. "They are searching for you," he'd said.
[NEW PARA]But Jesus had not paid heed. And then, and then... [F SHOULD BE LOWERCASE]ragments.[..]
[Would you die for me, Judas?
“Yea, indeed I would.”
How about for God?
“Nay, I could care less.”
Why do you love me so, brother?
“Wish that I knew. Is it not enough that I do? Magdalene and I, we are the same.”
But Judas, in me she loves God, not the man. One needs no reason to love God. But you do not love Him.
“He has stolen you away, brother. He is cruel, demanding and selfish.”
I pray that one day you will understand.
“Until then, I shall give myself to you.[..]” I BROKE THIS UP SINCE IT WAS A TWO WAY CONVO. PACING, PACING... I ALSO PUT JESUS’S DIALOGUE IN ITALICS AND JUDAS’S IN QUOTES. FOR SOME REASON THAT’S HOW I ENVISIONED IT. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>]Had he been too honest, too blunt, too foolish? Had Jesus come to hate him for his obstinacy, for his denial of God? Had he despised him? Nay, he couldn't have.
Judas imagined the conversation that had never happened, the questions that were never put, the answers that were never given.[..]
[NEW PARA][Would you do anything I asked of you, Judas? Aid me in all ways?
“If I could, yea.”
Hurt yourself?
“Without a second thought.”
But would you hurt me, if I asked it of you?
“Should you want it, should you need it, I would, yes. Even as my heart would bleed.”
Then put me on the cross, Judas. Make me immortal, because a lifetime is not enough for all that I must do. I need to die before I die, so that I may not die afterward.
“Is that how you meant it, when you said the same words two days ago? Was it a warning of your desire to sacrifice yourself?”
No, my friend. The same words can have very different meanings depending on when they are spoken... SAME THING HERE]
Did Judas fall alone, his own [foolishness] bringing tragedy upon both him and Jesus? Did his [stupid UNNEEDED] plans to confuse the Romans fail by themselves, the bribe money for the guards not taken because he had underestimated their honesty? That kiss, that [foolish] kiss that had sealed it all, had he given it himself? Or had Jesus requested it, wishing for his friend's touch to be the last he ever felt? [SO, SO WRONG, BUT I’M TOTALLY LOVING THIS IMPLICATION]
You and your God and heaven! [Judas swore.UNNEEDED TAG] His jealousy of God - was it for that reason [thatUNNEEDED] he had betrayed Jesus, if he had indeed betrayed him? Was that ugly feeling what made his heart leap from his chest with joy when he'd found out that the Messiah, the one Messiah, the Son of God, had said, 'Eli Eli lama sabachthani'?[’ APOSTROPHE NEEDS TO BE HERE.]
[NEW PARA]How happy he had felt! For a single moment, Judas [HAD] been stronger than God. He [DELETEhad] never had Jesus entirely, but for a second, God had not [DELETEhad him], either! He had stomped his foot down and said to Him, 'You are not all-powerful and I, I too have sway over a part of Jesus's heart!'
But maybe it hadn't been like that at all. Maybe he had been less jealous than he remembered [now UNNEEDED], guilt adding to his memories, twisting them, making them horrendous, grotesque, mad. How could he ever delight in hurting Jesus? How could he ever be that insane?
[NEW PARA]No. Maybe it had been The Messiah who had tricked him, who had known that Judas did not mind being used and misused in any way [by his friend UNNEEDED]. And Jesus had done for God no less than what Judas would have done [from YOU MEAN ‘FOR?’] Jesus. Had it been trust, then? Ultimate, unspoken trust? The knowledge that Judas would aid him even when the outcome would be this? Who else could be entrusted with this mission of hurting the man they loved most? Peter, who denied Jesus thrice before the cock crowed? John, who would probably have grabbed him and hidden him away rather than relinquish him to death? Maybe it had been not terrible selfishness that had guided Judas's actions, but utter selflessness. He had given all, even that which he was fighting for[...] and now was left with nothing.
Huddling [even UNNEEDED] closer to the fire, Judas closed his eyes. There was no answer to be found now, nothing to do but get the thoughts to cease [struggling UNNEEDED] in his mind and let his body rest. Tomorrow he would [indeedUNNEEDED] go away and leave this land to Andrew, [disappearing like a shadow that leaves no mark wherever it goes. DIDN’T QUITE GET THIS SIMILE] He would never meet another Apostle again. There was nothing for them to share [WITH HIM], no matter what had happened. They had God and the Messiah - Son of God, Son of Man - and all the struggle of mankind on their shoulders.
[NEW PARA]Judas had loneliness[...] and Jesus[.] [- son of Mary and of Joseph - and the eternal silent waiting for the return of a friend. PERSONALLY, I THINK IF YOU CUT THIS LAST LITTLE PART OUT, IT’D MAKE FOR A KICKASS ENDING <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>]~~~
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/f/f…" width="18" height="17" alt="
" title="I think I've fainted."/> LOVED this! I’m not a practicing Christian, but I adore the stories of (and more importantly behind) the Bible. Not sure how much Judas ‘loved’ Jesus here, but I’ve always wondered about the relationship between Jesus and Judas. Maybe I’m jumping to my own conclusions. Maybe not.Very few typos here. You have mad writing skills, so that doesn’t surprise in the slightest.
Only had two issues:
1. The lengthiness of sentences/paragraphs. Too long of either will slow down the pacing, and can make a reader lose focus. I also saw in spots (where sentences are concerned) where you got a little wordy. I marked a lot of those spots with (UNNEEDED). I also broke up some paragraphs for you to consider when revising.
2. The dialogue/action thing I mentioned earlier. Very important. Having dialogue from one character in the same paragraph as action from another is a recipe for confusion. I was able to figure it out, but a reader shouldn’t have to ‘figure it out’ or reread. It should flow naturally. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile)"/>Anyhoo, hope I didn’t offend. I enjoy your fics and I tend to really get into them when beta-ing. Take what you need from this, toss what you don’t. Let me know if you have any Q’s.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="15" height="13" alt="
" title="Heart"/> KM