Echoes From the Dead World

  Image: The tabby ruins of Fort Frederick overlooking Port Royal and its waterways. Image taken by myself.  “Good to see you sir, how ya’ doin’?” “Just fine Mr. Freeman,” Gabriel said with a smile and shaking his hand. “I’ll say you appear to have worked a miracle here.” “Well, I sure won’t say it was easy,” Darius said with a laugh as he gestured towards the property. “But she sure do come together well don’t she?” “That she does, that she does.” Gabriel said with a sigh and a nod, admiring the grounds. “Did you have to replace too much of the foundation?” “No, sir. Ain’t much to fix in that respect.” Darius said in a matter of fact tone. “She’s got old bones, very old, but very strong too. Take a gander here…” Darius rummaged in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a square headed nail. “See that? That’s an old nail. And I mean old nail. It’s iron and see those marks? This is forged, like by a black smith. Pre-industrialization, don’t get more local small business than th...

Image: An artists rendition of the legion's final moments, where the Germans sallied out from the wicker wall and finished the last remnants of the Romans. All they ever were, all they ever knew, their wants and dreams, ended here, in a muddy patch of grass between a marsh and the dark forest.  Knowing in my heart I perhaps would forever live with the regret of not seeing what the spirits wanted to show, after all the employees left, and against my better judgment, I switched off all my lights, parked my car inconspicuously in an obscured spot, and left the car. I stepped into the freezing snowy night, cursing myself for my insanity, for my stupidity, for whatever it was I was doing. But I felt it, like a magnetic pull back to that spot. I couldn’t ignore it. Apparently, security for historical sites in Germany, at least this one, is not very tight at all. I cut through some bushes, over a barely held together thigh-high barbed wire fence. I was very confident I entered there unsee...

Image: Chapel of Ease on St. Helena Island. Image taken by myself.  *FICTION* Almost unconsciously Gabriel took his smart phone out and was nearly about to tap on a social media app, when he had forgotten he deleted them all. With a sigh he set his phone on the table and ran his hands down his face. What did people do before social media when they were alone? For a moment he sat there, the noise around all blending together into a dull background noise. In his mind, he was all alone as all drowned out around him. It’s okay. There’s only pictures on there I’d rather forget. And friends who would rather forget me. Anyone except for his parents had yet to call. No neighbors, no coworkers, no high school friends. It shows how meaningless it all is. Conversation. Really knowing anyone. Everyone is here, everyone says they care, but it’s all because they get something in return. They get validation, they get money, a place to stay, whatever it is. You can’t wait for someone to save you....

  Images: Equipment of a Germanic warrior, the large oak tree I saw, and two images of the dark forest on the Germanic side of the battle lines, or the Germanic Weg. Images taken by myself.  It was around this time I checked my watch and saw that a little over an hour had passed. I was amazed; all of this surely had taken me no longer than fifteen to twenty minutes, or so I thought. It was as if, in the middle of these conversations, I felt nothing. I did not feel the passage of time, my legs getting tired, not even the cold of my limbs or the numbness of my face from it. I felt utterly as if I were in a dream, and time could pass quickly but I did not feel it. I was stationary, stuck in a moment in time, staring at a singular spot on the battlefield. It utterly engrossed me, enveloped me, whatever was happening to me. I decided to walk back onto the Germanic Weg and follow that path, as I had not gone there yet. As I walked, however, I felt the presences around me, doing wha...

  *FICTION* TUN-BAHH! The sound made Gabriel shoot upright in bed. But no shadowy figures greeted him. The sound had been barely audible this time. He whipped his head about, yet saw nothing but his own room. “It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s over,” Gabriel repeated to himself again and again breathlessly. Bringing his hands to his face, he covered his eyes for a moment. “It’s not real. None of it’s real.” I need to see a doctor. I’ve been having night terrors ever since Atlanta, he thought to himself. Slowly, he lowered his hands. In the dim ambient city light of Beaufort creeping in through his window, he stared at the moisture on his hands, somehow dirtier than he remembered. His sweat had spread the dark dirt around. I heard that thunder after I woke up. His hands started to shake. Was it a dream? He began brushing the dirt from his hands, but it only smeared it more. Standing up, he strode to the bathroom and flipped the light on. He was covered in sweat, his skin clam...

  Images: Examples of Germanic attire; two images of a model of a Germanic dwelling. All images taken by me.  In the annals of Roman history, few names inspire as much dread as the Teutoburg Forest. But who were the people who accomplished the impossible, who annihilated three of Rome’s legions in the German wilds? They were a confederation of tribes led by the Cherusci, and their victory was no accident. It was the product of a culture and a way of fighting perfectly adapted to their environment. It is important to remember that most of what we know about them comes from their enemies, the Romans, so our view is inevitably seen through that lens. The Cherusci were a collection of clans centered in the valleys of the Weser River in what is now northern Germany. Their society was built not on sprawling cities but on small villages, with power held by chieftains whose authority rested on personal loyalty and success in battle. For the Cherusci, personal freedom and tribal honor ...