His glorious days were finally over. He turned down the offer of being the commander of his country’s army despite having led his battalion to war which ended in a miraculous victory over the invaders. The king was most pleased with his sacrifice and loyalty that he wanted to give him the most prestigious award a soldier could achieve. He refused to accept the king’s offer instead he asked his king if he could just leave since he has carried out his duty as one of his subjects. With a heavy heart, the king allowed him to move on with his life. The reluctant hero left his war suit, weapons and everything he owed from the army. His followers were saddened with his departure after all; he had made a legacy, he became a legend of his country. The townsmen paid their respect and gratitude by assembling along the pathway of the city’s entrance as he walked away, empty handed. They cheered him and sang lavish praises, showering him with blessings now that he had to go. As he stepped out of the city gate, he gave a deep sigh but did not turn back to face his hometown that he has just liberated. It was his personal choice to find peace after he had completed his duty and everyone respected his decision. He set his feet forward upon the scorching earth and never came back.
He endured blinding desert storms, torrential rains, burning sensation from the sun and even Mother Nature did not seem to be on his side. Nevertheless, he finally arrived at the long forgotten village. Situated away from the mainland, the village rested itself in the middle of old railway on a long, concrete bridge connecting his country’s frontier to another unknown region, surrounded by the great ocean. The railway has been out of service therefore, he had to make his own way to the village on foot. When he arrived, he was welcomed by cheerful children playing hide and seek near the outskirts of their humble village. He thought that perhaps he could stay here. With ocean waves hitting the walls of the bridge, fresh ocean waves, rejuvenating his spirit, the warmth from the village folks there was no place like this he had ever known. He thought maybe this was the perfect place to find peace away from his past, to start a new life, to begin writing the prologue chapters for his twilight years. He stepped into his newly acclaimed hometown with a new identity. He believed that the hero he once had been was better untold so that he could lead a normal life in this new haven.
He met many new people, made some faithful friends and of course, he found someone who stole his heart. She was dark haired with pure conscience and kind soul, alluring smile, full of elegance and grace wherever she went. He asked her out one evening to have watch the sunset over the horizon and they rested by the edge of the bridge, sitting back to back with eyes overlooking the reddish orange water surface. They talked while enjoying the scenic view and soon fell in love. It seemed unbelievable for such feelings to develop in such a short time, but it did. Fortunately or unfortunately, fate had decided that they were meant for each other at least for a few years. He was devastated that she passed away a few years after their blissful marriage. They did not even have the luxury of time to have children as they had hoped for. He had just lost a wonderful woman of his life and it was obvious that there was never anyone like her after her death. He remained single in the end. He commemorated her death every evening at the place where they made feelings known.
He would come with his rod and live bait, sat where he once rested and waited for the bait to be hooked by some live fish. It was pitiful of him to be that way. The villagers knew that she was everything to him; to them it was unfortunate that he was reduced to such wretched state. He was a good man without a smooth sailing life. So they left him as he was because there was nothing they could do to bring the dead back to life. He sat alone most of the time. At times, children would come by his side and watched sunset together not realizing that he was actually drowning his sorrows by letting time went by as if the past would be rekindled just by being where he used to be with her. He asked himself, “Is this what peace meant?”
He was alone but he never felt lonesome because he believed that perhaps this was the kind of peace he was looking for. Sunsets’ magnificent panorama which he had never seen before, the feeling simply calmed the rocky past he experienced. The place had a lot of meaning for him and so many memories were left behind in the same, exact location. It was where time just stopped, where he could let his feelings drift away by the serene sounds of the ocean. The serenity he felt was undeniable. He would repeat this cycle year after year. With his twilight year nearing, he realized that he had had a good life despite her loss. He buried his glorious past when he entered this village, led a simple life as a common fisherman, treasuring sunsets every evening and now, he was left with white hairs covering the top of his head. He left his home spick and span, neat and tidy. He knew it was time to embark on a new journey. So he left a diary back at his home. Inside it told his lifelong tale from a boy to a soldier, to a man and finally an old, fragile elderly. He noted how life was like in precise details so that someday, someone who stumbled on it could find peace like he did. He stood on the edge of the bridge and looked at the picturesque sun setting on the distant horizon for one last time. He gave a sigh, closed his eyes and pretended as if his late wife was beside him, holding his hand. In his heart, he told himself, “Peace has guided me this far, I’m glad I came to this place. I have got nothing to lose because I have lived in peace far too long that now I could not repay what it has blessed me with. I know I can finally rest in peace, farewell and thank you for finding peace in my lifetime.” He loosened his grip and he made himself fall to the ocean, knowing that he could not swim. Time just stopped then as he fell from the edge of the bridge.
Children who accompanied him before told the townsfolk that they could see him and his wife by the place they used to be, sitting back to back facing the sunset every evening. They replied with a smile, “Yes, of course, they were good people who have managed to find peace in their lives.” The tale of the old fisherman who embraced the sunsets on the horizon went on and became folklore in the village. Although he left in silence, his tale would still remain in the hearts of those who read the writings in the diary he left behind. At the end of his diary, vividly written, “As such, I would like to end this by entitling my journey as Fisherman Horizon…”
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