“‘Bravery is not conquering fear—it’s understanding it,’ his Grandfather’s spirit whispers during a storm, teaching him that chaos is the fire from which a phoenix is born anew.”

A visceral narrative where a traumatized veteran sits in a dark room during a storm, summoning the spirits of his elders for counsel as he battles inner demons.

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The room is dark, and there is a storm raging outside. I look outside the window. The sky is all black and grey, and filled with heavy storm clouds. Rain is falling in torrents - obscuring the world and distorting reality.

There is rolling thunder outside. Lightning flashes, and the room is bathed in white for a moment. There they are, standing somber and proud. Robed in all dark, they are the spirits of my elders. They are here because I have called for them. They always respond when I need their wise counsel.

I sit down at my desk and hold my aching head in my hands. My brain is throbbing inside, beating against the bone and the membrane - all set to explode and free itself.

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‘I am all alone.’ I raise my head and whisper to the shadows.

‘Yes, you are, son.’ A shadow answers and detaches from the rest. I recognize the familiar and noble features of my late Grandfather. ‘But then you have always been alone, fighting your demons and waging war on your troubles.’

‘But I feel so weak and powerless, and I am really afraid of the circumstances.’ I confess.

‘Remember those nights you spent on the dark, cold mountains of the North?’ My Grandfather says in his kind voice. ‘Each night was your last, or at least you thought so. You said farewell to life with each sunset, and you welcomed the warm hope which came with each sunrise.’

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I take my time and reflect on those days. I was young and recently married, and fate had arranged an early meeting with death. There was blood and there was death. We were sitting in enemy territory, and there was enemy at our front and enemy at our back.

Death came from everywhere. It came from the sky like a rain of fire, blistering and scorching. It came from the front like a hailstorm blowing in our haggard faces. It even came from beneath the snow, exploding upwards in mushrooms of destruction.

I lost so many of my comrades. I think of their faces, bearded, and soiled with the soot of kerosene lamps. I think of their hands, bleeding and blackened by the cold. One by one, they all fell. So many smiles lost to war.

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‘Yes, I do.’ I raise my head and smile at my Grandfather’s ghost, ‘Those were terrible times indeed.’

‘Weren’t you afraid?’ My Grandfather adjusts his glasses and asks.

I think of those pitch nights, when we heard the enemy climbing the slopes - hundreds of them against us, thirteen. They came when the artillery barrage stopped, and they climbed like ants. We could not see them in pitch darkness, but they were there, waiting for their chance and determined to kill us.

We fired onto them and into them. Our bullets hit their mark - soft thuds of death entering the human flesh. The front file fell, and the next file took over. They kept on climbing. My hands were badly shaking, and I was losing grip on the wooden butt of the AK-47. It was many degrees below the freezing point, but my palms were sweating.

I was afraid, frightened out of my wits, and scared shitless like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves. The magazine emptied, and I extended my hand for another. My unspoken demand went unanswered. I looked back, and my comrade was dead, blood oozing out from where his right eye used to be.

‘Oh yes, I was afraid, so very afraid.’ I shrug my shoulders and feel the chill. The fear is still there, crawling like a snake of ice in the pit of my stomach.

‘What happened then? How did you survive?’ My Grandfather asks, but he already knows the answer.

‘Somehow, I conquered my fear.’ I reflected.

‘No, you didn’t conquer it. Instead, you understood your fear.’ My Grandfather answers with a smile. ‘You dissected your fear into small parts, and understood the meaning and shape and form of each small part.’

‘But I was still afraid.’ I admit hesitatingly.

‘Remember, son, bravery is not the absence of fear. Instead, when fear is absent, it is always because of stupidity. Bravery is also not the conquering of fear. Fear is never defeated. Instead, bravery is understanding fear and manipulating it in your favor.’ He patiently explains.

I look back. I can see myself standing on that snow-covered mountain ridge. I was angry because the enemy wanted to kill me and my friends. I was angry because my survival was threatened. And I was angry because my friends’ lives were at stake.

I screamed like a wounded dragon and picked up the rifle of my dead comrade. My men heard my scream and rallied around. We started fighting with a fresh resolve. We started fighting for our survival.

‘Yes, I guess I did manage to be brave.’ I answered my Grandfather with a smile.

‘Yes, you were brave and you survived. You came back alive and proud, and you made all of us proud.’ The old man’s moist eyes are brimming with pride.

Hearing his words, I get up and stand in front of the window. It is an apocalypse out there - angels and demons fighting their eternal duel.

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‘Can you see there is a storm raging outside?’ I ask the diminishing shadow of my Grandfather.

‘Yes, there is a storm raging outside, and there is all chaos. There will always be a storm raging, and there will always be chaos.’ He states with conviction and with all the wisdom in the world.

‘But remember, son, chaos is the fire and ashes from which a phoenix is born anew. Be a phoenix and come to terms with chaos. Understand it and know it. Let it envelop you and seep through you. Be the tree and let the harsh wind of chaos blow through your branches. Dance with the chaos and sway with it. Ultimately, the wind will pass and you will stand proud.’

I look outside. I dissect my fear and make an effort to understand the chaos.

‘I will survive yet again.’ I declare my resolve and look back. The lightning flashes again, and there is no one else in the room.

The spirits of my elders have left. Their job is done. The phoenix has been born anew.