The Gaulish village, notoriously famous for their boisterousness was unnervingly silent that night. Even Cacofonix, the bard, had abandoned his instrument and gaiety and sat still outside the cottage along with the other villagers. Inside the cottage, however, in a corner, there were three figures stooping over a cauldron, whispering in hushed tones. Just across the street rose a delicious smell of roast boar but it managed to raise more waters from eyes than from mouths. The Chief’s wife herself was fighting back tears to make the village’s famed dish. As she carried out the dish to the cottage of the warrior, most of the villagers sitting outside broke down. But Impedimenta controlled herself and entered the cottage. That moment, the three figures of uneven sizes stopped whispering
and made way for her.
As she set the dish beside the bed, the warrior stirred his eyes open to the familiar smell. She managed to smile through her tears but the warrior could make out the grief from her shiny, bloodshot eyes. ‘Someone is waiting for you’, she whispered as a tall lady made way into the cottage. The Druid, the Chief and the other Warrior had resigned from the cottage to make a place for the newcomers and to regain their composure. Their friend couldn’t bear to see them like that.
Inside the cottage, Panacea helped him sit upright on his bed, with cushions propped to support his frail figure. ‘You still look beautiful’ said he. She couldn’t help blush. But that didn’t drive away her pain. ‘I can’t! I can’t! I can’t do this’, she shrieked and ran out of the cottage in tears. As the Druid and the Chief consoled her, his friend walked into the cottage to share with him his last boar.
As his friend walked towards him, he made an effort to say something and began coughing. His friend stopped him and eased him into a comfortable position on the bed and began serving the boar. ‘You know, this is my last boar too!’, he said. As they shared their last meal together, they were flooded with the umpteen memories of shared adventures. They finally finished the meal in silence and his friend got up, pushed aside the plates, bade his friend the final goodbye and begun walking towards the door. ‘So you want to leave me before I leave you’, he said. ‘That only seems fair’, his friend replied.
And as the entire village was watching, Obelix walked into the wilderness. That day, the village had lost two precious footnotes of History.
-Apurva Sankar
Wordsmiths 