Immortals: Slovenia

Marko

My name is Marko, and I am immortal. I have lived for more than a thousand years, and I have seen the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of civilizations, the glory and misery of humanity. But I was not always like this. I was once a simple peasant, living in a small village in the Cerkno Hills, in the land that is now called Slovenia.

I was born in the year 1257, the same year that Cerkno was first mentioned in written records. My village was called Zakriž, and it was a peaceful place, surrounded by green forests and fertile fields. We were farmers and shepherds, and we worshipped the cross that stood on a hill above our settlement. We had a small church, dedicated to Saint Bartholomew, and a priest who taught us the Christian faith.

I was the youngest of five children, and I had a happy childhood. I helped my father with the crops and the animals, and I played with my brothers and sisters. I was curious and adventurous, and I loved to explore the woods and the caves nearby. I often went to the cave called Divje Babe, where I found strange bones and stones that looked like tools. I wondered who had left them there, and what kind of life they had.

One day, when I was sixteen years old, I decided to go deeper into the cave than ever before. I took a torch and a knife, and I crawled through the narrow passages and the dark chambers. I felt a thrill of excitement and fear, as I ventured into the unknown. I came to a large cavern, where I saw something that made me gasp. It was a skeleton, lying on the ground, covered with dust and cobwebs. It looked human, but not quite. It had a large skull, a flat face, and thick bones. It was holding a flute, made from a bone, with holes drilled in it. I recognized it as the same kind of flute that I had seen in the cave before, but this one was much older and more elaborate.

I was fascinated by this discovery, and I wanted to take the flute with me. I approached the skeleton carefully, and I reached for the flute. As soon as I touched it, I felt a jolt of pain in my hand, and I dropped the torch. The flame went out, and I was plunged into darkness. I heard a loud roar, and I felt a breath of hot air on my face. I realized, with horror, that the skeleton was not dead. It was alive, and it was angry.

I screamed and ran, but it was too late. The creature grabbed me by the leg, and dragged me back to the cavern. It bit me on the neck, and I felt its teeth sink into my flesh. I felt a surge of blood, and then a strange sensation. I felt a warmth spread through my body, and a tingling in my veins. I felt a connection with the creature, and I saw its memories flash before my eyes. I saw its life, from the time it was born, in a clan of its kind, to the time it was left alone, in the cave. I saw its joys and sorrows, its hopes and fears, its loves and hates. I saw its wisdom and its loneliness, its pride and its despair. I saw its music and its magic, its secrets and its curses. I saw its immortality and its doom.

I realized that the creature was a Neanderthal, one of the ancient people who had lived in Europe before the modern humans. I realized that it had given me its flute, and its blood, and its soul. I realized that it had made me immortal, and cursed me to be its heir.

The creature let go of me, and I fell to the ground. It looked at me with a mix of sadness and relief, and then it closed its eyes. It breathed its last breath, and it died. I was alone, in the dark, with its corpse and its flute.

I don't know how long I stayed there, in shock and confusion. I don't know how I survived, without food or water. I don't know how I found my way out, in the maze of the cave. I only know that I eventually emerged, into the light of the sun, and the world of the living.

But I was not the same. I was changed, forever. I was immortal.

I returned to my village, but I did not belong there anymore. I looked the same, but I felt different. I had the knowledge and the power of the Neanderthal, but I also had its isolation and its burden. I could not relate to my family and my friends, who seemed so young and naive. I could not follow the rules and the customs, that seemed so trivial and meaningless. I could not worship the cross and the saints, that seemed so false and hollow. I was an outsider, a stranger, a freak.

I tried to hide my nature, and to live a normal life. I married a girl from the village, and I had children with her. I pretended to be happy, and to be content. But I was not. I was restless, and I was bored. I was unhappy, and I was guilty. I knew that I would outlive my wife and my children, and that I would cause them pain. I knew that I would never grow old and die, and that I would never find peace.

I decided to leave, and to seek a new life. I took the flute with me, and I wandered the world. I saw many lands and peoples, and I learned many languages and skills. I met many men and women, and I loved and hated them. I made many friends and enemies, and I helped and harmed them. I had many adventures and troubles, and I enjoyed and suffered them.

I lived through many ages and events, and I witnessed many changes and wonders. I saw the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of civilizations, the glory and misery of humanity. I saw the wars and the plagues, the famines and the disasters, the revolutions and the reforms, the inventions and the discoveries, the arts and the sciences, the religions and the philosophies, the heroes and the villains, the saints and the sinners. I saw the best and the worst of mankind, and I was part of it.

But I never found what I was looking for. I never found a place to call home, or a people to call my own. I never found a meaning to my existence, or a purpose to my actions. I never found a way to end my curse, or a reason to embrace it. I never found happiness, or peace.

I am still alive, and I am still immortal. I am still wandering, and I am still searching. I am still Marko, and I am still the heir of the Neanderthal.

This is my story, and this is how I came to be.