literature

After Death: Martin's Active Afterlife

Deviation Actions

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Martin the warrior awoke to the sounds of birds singing. He lay on what felt like warm grass, and he felt warm dirt beneath his paws. He opened his eyes cautiously. He wasn't dead?

"No, Martin my friend. You are very much dead." A deep voice resounded. Martin looked up to find Boar the fighter standing over him, not silver as he had remembered, but young and fierce.  "Where . . . where am I" Martin asked as he sat up, looking around. They were in a large clearing, and surrounding them were dark woods, but through and around there shone the sun, though it was partially covered in mist. Martin couldn't tell if the sun shone from above the mist or if the mist was actually shining on its own. "You are at the dark forest. You slept so soundly just outside the gates that I brought you in. I have missed you, young mouse." Martin smiled; then his eyes grew wide. "Does that mean. . . my friends. . Rose?" He asked. Boar shook his head. "They have yet to arrive. For you see, your soul is bound to the abbey. You may visit other places, but always back to the abbey you must remain. I have come from Salamandastron to welcome you. Your friends must journey far to come see you. And you are not yet strong enough to journey father than the abbey walls."

"What do you mean? I thought this was the dark forest!" Martin said, standing. "So it is. But we are still connected, you and I. You, I suspect, in more ways than most. For you are bound so tightly to the place named Redwall that you cannot fully rest, though you may visit those who are." Beside Boar the fighter appeared a small female mouse. "Old Abbess Germaine!" Martin cried, delighted at seeing his friend again. She laughed and embraced the warrior. "Oh, Martin! It is so good to see you, and you to see me. I too, am bound to the abbey, but I can only watch and observe. How is everyone?" Martin shrugged. "Everyone is splendid. Gonff and Columbine had many children, and live happily among your order. It is good to see you again, Abbess." Abbess Germaine smiled happily. "Now, we have but to wait for your other guests. For they tell us they have waited long for you."

Martin knew not how long they waited, but presently, though the sunshine mist, came several figures. The first was his father. "Father!" Martin breathed, and rushed forward. "SON!" Luke cried happily. His mother stood beside him, smiling happily as the small family of warriors was reunited once more. Next came Felldoh, who embraced Martin with the strength Martin knew his squirrel friend had always had. "Welcome to the dark forest, Martin! Took your time getting here, I see! I thought you'd have come ages ago! Who would have thought such a fierce friend of mine would take so long to die!" Martin laughed as he was greeted by more friends from days gone by. Skipper of otters, Lady Amber, and even Lord Brocktree had come, though Martin had never knew him. Finally, the last one to come was Rose.

Martin gasped as he saw, for the first time in a lifetime, his love. Rose of Noonvale. She was as pretty, as fierce, and as brave as he had remembered her. To his surprise, he started to cry. "ROSE!" he called as he dashed forward, bowling into the spirit of Rose, knocking her to the forest floor. Rose laughed and cried at the same time, hugging Martin tightly, holding him, never wanting to let go. Martin didn't want her to let go. After an age, they parted. "Rose, my love. My mousemaid, braver than any. I have come back to you." Rose smiled. "Good thing, too." Felldoh put in. She was pinin' for you since you left. Every day it was always, "Do you think He'll return? When is Martin going to die? Will he come back someday?" Huh! You'd think you were immortal by how much she was longin' for ya!" Rose shoved the squirrel playfully aside. "I didn't see YOU complaining when Miss Rosalie came to dark forest!" Felldoh laughed. Martin couldn't stop smiling.

Suddenly, everything before his eyes vanished. Martin froze. He felt Rose around him, but he could only hear her faintly. He could feel the earth of dark forest and the company of those around him, but he seemed to be staring upon a pair of paws. "There." Said a cheery mousemaid's voice. "As ever a handsome depiction of our dear Martin as ever there was." Martin found himself staring at an elderly Columbine, her white hair tied in a neat braid behind her. Gonff, bent and whitened with age, stood beside her and sniffed. "Aye. He's happy now, me matey. I can tell. I'm glad we finished this part of the tapestry, at least. Martin would like to know he can still watch over the abbey. He loved this place, ya'know." Martin wanted to call out, to reassure Gonff and Columbine that he was alright, but he found he could not speak. He couldn't move, couldn't even look down! "His sword's there, too." Gonff said, pointing to a spot above Martin's head. Martin tried to look up, but could not. All he could do was stare straight ahead and wonder what was going on. Columbine sighed and squeezed Gonff's paw, then turned. "I've got to make sure that grandchild of yours isn't theivin' the kitchens. Takes after his grandsire, that one. I'll leave you two alone." Then, she left. Gonff stared a long time at Martin, without really seeing him. His eyes were sad. "Rest in peace, old friend." Then, the vision faded. Martin found himself staring into the concerned eyes of Rose, and several voices flooded back into his consciousness, asking "What is it, Martin?"

"What's happened?"


"Are you alright?"

"Have you seen something? You're white as a sheet!"

"Give the mouse some room." Boar roared. "We must talk, Martin the warrior. Martin hunched down, feeling as though he were very weak. "It is part of your sword, and part of the wishes of whomever carved what is written in Salamandastron. It is written, though not to any eyes but the dead, that you and your place of rest, like Salamandastron, are to remain partially in contact with the living. No being that I know of has ever done this before, outside of the badgers at our fire mountain. You have greatness about you, Martin that is to live on in your abbey. In your honor, your friends have created, as they did for Abbess Germaine, a resting place within the abbey walls. But, they have given you two other things. One is the tapestry. A few days have passed since you died at Redwall, and they have created a portrait of you. Added to this is your sword. It is part of your legacy. Since you had no child, they placed it above your portrait. In addition, you have been granted a great gift, Martin the warrior. To guide those who wield your weapon, confuse, confound and frighten those who fight against your descendants of the warrior way, and to ever remain in contact with heirs at Redwall. I know this only by what is written and unwritten in Salamandastron, and by what Lord Brocktree tells me." Lord Brocktree stepped forward. "You and I are the same, in some ways. We are a part of what we loved most. You, Martin, have a more active role, however. I am sorry you cannot rest fully." Martin looked at the badger and smiled. "An active afterlife. I've never thought of the idea. But, I also like it. Frighten my enemies, you say? Well, not unless it's in a time of need, and there seems no time of need as of yet." Lord Brocktree chuckled. "Oh, just wait, warrior. The day will come when Redwall will have need of your guidance." Martin smiled bemusedly. "Sort of a ghostly trainer? Well, I fancy that idea. And in the meantime, Rose and I can visit one another once in a while." Rose smiled gratefully. "Oh Martin. I wish there was some way I could stay. But I must leave in a few hours. Noonvale calls me back." Martin nodded. "I understand.  I will think on the problem, and visit you as often as I can. But I fear I must wait a season or two." Martin shrugged resignedly. "I don't know how to control being in dark forest and being at Redwall." Despite his fate, Martin was glad he was tied to the home he had come to love. And he could see it would blossom into a haven for all weary travelers, and as a defense against all evil. He had helped designed it so. "You will get the hang of it, friend Martin," Lord Brocktree said happily, clapping Martin on the back so firmly the little mouse went head over tail along the grass. Boar and Brocktree, as well as everyone else, roared in laughter as Martin came to a stop and joined in. "Even in death, I don't know my own strength!" Lord Brocktree laughed. Martin was happy. Happier than he had been at a long time. He was not at peace, but then again, he did not mind that. He was a warrior mouse! And as long as evil roamed, there would always be a reason to watch and wait.

Martin wondered happily who would be the first to take up his sword as the party continued. Food materialized in front of them, giving them all they needed. Martin supposed this was the powers of the dark forest, but Lord Brocktree shook his head. "It is because of where we are. The hospitable spirit of the abbey provides us with the food you see. That is why so much is from the woodland. It is only something to pass the time. We do not need to eat nor drink here." Martin enjoyed the company of others happily until one by one they had to return. Luke was the first to return, saying that the ocean was a lively resting place, to say the least. Martin promised to visit as his father vanished into the mists. His friends from the north departed soon after, taking Rose with them. Martin promised even more fervently to come and visit soon, and Rose promised the same.

Soon, there was only the two badgers left. Boar the fighter was first to leave. "I must go, now, Martin. I shall see thee again. My sun, Sunflash the mace now rules over Salamandastron, and I wish to see him once more." Boar vanished into the mists. Lord Brocktree alone stood. "Now, Martin. Listen carefully. You will wait many seasons for one who will come to bear your sword. I have seen it written that he will. While many will borrow your sword in times of need, this heir will come and seek out your sword, seeking to retain and reclaim the legacy of your forefathers as a warrior. He, and his son, will carry on this legacy. When you are able, place clues for him to find, when the time comes. There are those who would abuse the power your sword wields, and so you must hide the sword until it is time. You can talk to any mouse in dreams, and visit them. You can even come to temporarily lead them. But remember that you are still dead, and you must always return here. Be on the lookout for a true warrior, in every age. When they have completed their lives, they will come to join you. You will never be alone." With that, Lord Brocktree vanished into the mists. Martin thought a long while. It was a good thing the tapestry was there. He could look in on Redwall. For now, he would experiment, late at night, when no one was watching. He did not know if he would be visible, and likely anyone would faint dead away if they saw him so soon after his death. He decided to try and lay low for a while, watching and waiting for a warrior to emerge from time. Martin did do one thing, though. He visited Gonff in a dream.

"Good and faithful friend." Martin said as he entered the dream. Dream Gonff stood, eyes widened. He was still old, but Martin could not help smiling at his friend's complete shock. "Do not fear. I am at peace. When your time has come, you will join me. Thank you for all you have done for me."

"B-but I haven't done anything!" Gonff stuttered. "You gave me joy when I was sad, made me laugh when I was in pain, and brought happiness to me again. I thank you. I await you in Dark forest. Have a wonderful life, friend." Martin slipped out of Gonff's dream and watched as his friend slept. As the day dawned, Gonff yawned and rubbed his eyes. His expression was a happy one, and he shuffled out of his bed to raid the Redwall kitchens. Martin smiled happily as he watched. He would wait for his heir to come. But in the meantime, it would be an interesting afterlife.
I wrote this out whilst listening to Mossflower. Having read nearly all the Redwall books (I have yet to read the two latest), and knowing well the tale of Martin the warrior, Mossflower, and Redwall the best, I felt it necessary to address one fact: Martin has an amazingly active afterlife. No peace for this warrior, no sir! at least one appearance in nearly every book that takes place after his death, be it dream or vision, and even an actual physical return to the world! (if only to lead a blind mouse to a clue). Man, I LOVE Afterlife Martin the warrior! what a wicked sense of humor he has! I go to pieces any time anyone has a dream about him! Taggerung was particularly hard to get through without having a giggling fit every few chapters. (Tagg must hold the record for most dreams from Martin!) In any case, I wanted to address this issue. Why, for example, does he have to appear, in Doomwyte, to Gonff's decenants, rather than Gonff himself? the answer is simple: Martin's the only one who can! And don't anyone tell me Martin's sword wasn't placed above the tapestry, because I distinctly recall (in one of the Mariel of Redwall books, likely that one) a quite-natured squirrel mentioned to have laid clues and hidden the sword. Makes sense, too. I might have to write a lovely fake-scene where Martin's trying his best to hew in the stone wall behind the tapestry the poem he left for his heir, Matthias.
Martin: shh!!! Gonff, I'm trying to work!
Gonff: well you'll never do it right matey! someone's bound to wake up any moment, I just know it!
Recent Abbot: What the. . . . . :sprint:
Martin: Oh great, now you've done it!
Gonff: it wasn't me, you ole fibber! you're the only one who can actually appear to anyone!

LOL! I love Redwall.
All Characters belong to Brian Jacques, rest his soul. Maybe he's having an active afterlife. (shrug)
© 2012 - 2024 Cimorine90
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SammyW28's avatar
Better get ready, Marty. You're going to be one busy spirit! :laughing: