A Crude Beginning

              “Until you spread your wings, you’ll have no idea how far you can fly.”
                                                     - Napoleon Bonaparte

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     A day not unlike any other in Université Paris Cité in France began. The sun rose, birds sung, the hustle and bustle of students and staff began to grow to its usual volume of noise, and of course one particular fellow known in the campus for his strange interest was just awakening from a long night of studying. Though, he did not need to commit to this the night before, for he was not listless in his academics nor was he known to be a lethargic individual. He studied what he had gone over last night purely for his passion towards it all.

     His name is “Edmond Cieutal”. A young man of 21 standing at average height, eyes almost equivalent to the color of the sky on a cloudy day in the afternoon, a rather shaggy long mop of milk chocolate brown hair which he only brushed out of the way every so often that usually covered his ears and went as far down as a little past the sides of his jaw, and with clothes with lots of pockets (such as a parka and cargo pants).
    Despite his appearance being all very gauche, Edmond is quite a bright individual for his age. That is, when concerning himself in the works of history, moreover, the era in which Napoleon Bonaparte started his conquest. Everything from learning of Napoleon’s beginnings to his end, to his enemies, to his strategies, to even the littlest of things such as how the construction and workings of a musket work or how the uniforms of the army were tailored or even something as simple as what they liked to eat and how to make such dishes, even having his own hair grown out to be as long as Napoleon in his youth before going to Egypt. Most students of the university preferred to study in fields pertaining to subjects such as astrology or medicines, but not Edmond. Edmond was a more rare case, for he loved history and only history alone, especially when it was about the French Emperor. To his professors, Edmond was their star pupil and they thought his ever excited participation in all lessons was very endearing. However, to most students Edmond was considered as strange and a bit too obsessive of that particular era of France. But a small group of individuals in particular seemed to outright hate Edmond, though not only by means of very harsh words and making fun of him, they would go so far as to relentlessly beat him physically at every opportunity they received without so much a moment to think why they did it at all to begin with, it simply just felt right to them. That very thing is exactly what had sent Edmond hurtling to greatness whilst they were none the wiser due to panicking from their end of the result. But in order to understand how this came to be, we must return to the beginning of the day where it all began.

     Edmond got out of bed with a great yawn, scratching himself before stretching to get off of his mattress. He went to brush his teeth as it was the first thing he did when he awoke, he then took a cold shower to wake himself up from his grogginess, got dressed in his baggy clothes as well as his parka, and went to his pantry to make himself a coffee and eat some toast with butter and strawberry jam to start his day while he watched a video on his computer touching upon various topics of the Napoleonic Wars (most of which Edmond had already known but it delighted him to listen to it). Following this, Edmond then grabbed his backpack and headed out towards the main area of the campus to listen to his professors lectures for the day. On his way there, he met his friend, Hadrien.

    “I see you stayed up late again, Edmond.” Greeted Hadrien.
    “Of course,” replied Edmond “why wouldn’t I? I’ve told you always that my main focus in life is to study about-”
    “Napoleon, yes. I know that.” Cut in Hadrien abruptly. “But there’s more to life than Napoleon, or more to France for that matter. With you being so zeroed in on the Emperor, sometimes I wonder if that’s the only piece of history you’re aware of.”
    “That’s not true! I know plenty of other areas of history, it’s a necessity to know and understand them too! For instance, the Romans, Alexander the Great’s conquest, Mesopotamia, the Ancient Egyptians, and even the Ancient Chinese as well as Feudal Japan!”
    “I don’t know history like you do, Edmond. But I think you said all that out of order if I’m not mistaken. And yet, you’re able to easily recall what Napoleon’s favorite meal was as if it was your own.” Hadrien chuckled a bit. “But really, you should stop staying up so late. That’s bad for your health, you know.”
   “I suppose you’re right. But as they say, ‘bad habits die hard’, and this one is certainly tough for me to stop doing. Learning even the smallest of details of that point in history… it’s exciting for me, Hadrian. It always is. I just can’t help but want to learn more about that time, and of him, of Napoleon.”

     Eventually the two would reach Edmond’s classroom, where they separated to do their respective lessons. Edmond would go on ahead to his lecture on classical Latin while Hadrian would go on to his computer science lecture which was further down from where he and Edmond had split up. During this time, as was always expected of Edmond by his professors when he attended a lecture to be one step closer to his goal of getting a degree that would help him be a historian or at least have a job revolving around Napoleon’s history within France, he always was above and beyond the rest of the class. He was always the first to pick up on the lesson at hand, he was never afraid to ask a question when needed to make sure there would be no failure inbound for himself, and he never was rude or arrogant despite being above the rest of the class in his prodigious learning ability. No matter how good he was, he stayed humble through it all and rather genuinely at that. Before exiting the classroom he even would thank the professor of that particular lecture for doing a wonderful job teaching the class.
     This, however, was not without its drawbacks. Be that as it may that Edmond was a kind individual at heart and his aforementioned prodigal skill in learning new things very quickly, these sorts of qualities made him a target by those not as fortunate in ability or without the same genuine kindness he had towards even random strangers he had never met beforehand. One group in particular on this day, however, were the very people that sent Edmond on his soon-to-be path to glory unknowingly, even if not in the same world he was born into. Edmond, on his way to meet with Hadrian, was reading right to the end of The Count of Monte Cristo which he intended to make an essay on the entire story for an assignment that he would pass soon. To Edmond, the story was interesting and a page turner in its own right, but the fact that it was written by the son of Thomas-Alexandre Dumas was even more of a delight to him. But just as he finished the book, he bumped into a group of about 5 individuals. All of them were just about as strong as they were stupid. They had fairly above average muscle mass throughout their body, with their arms crossed or put into their pockets if they were not cracking their knuckles, pupils that did not shine but dilated with malice behind them yet with no forethought of what could come from that malice they would act upon, and an aura around them that was less like university students and more so like a typical lowlife gangster. Within the bounds of the campus, they have been known to get into trouble on multiple occasions with attempting to rob people or otherwise brawl with the nearest unsuspecting individual they saw as a group for their own amusement. And today, poor unassuming Edmond was their victim.
   “Well well, looks like Cieutal didn’t look where he’s going.” Started up the leader of the ruffians. He spoke in a low pitched gruff, almost as though he were growling like a savage animal.
   “Ah, s-sorry,” Stuttered Edmond. This was certainly not the first time Edmond has seen these individuals, and he was not about to make his interaction with them go on any longer than need be. He started to inch backwards slowly “I’ll just be on my way now…”
   “Nah, I don’t think so, smartass.” Responded the brute, grabbing Edmond by his bicep, practically almost enveloping it in his one hand alone.
   “Let… go…!” Said Edmond, struggling to escape the iron grip with all the strength available to him. Every pull he kept trying to get out only made it worse for himself.
   “Me and the boys here, we’ve had enough of all the professors favoritism towards ya, Cieutal. It just ain’t fair, we’re out here trying to have a little fun but high and dry just ‘cause we didn’t submit a paper on time, by comparison to you who barely even tries to get a good grade and the professors only like you because of being knowledgeable. So what if you know some old dead guy you idolize made you wanna know about all this? Usually, we just beat people and go. But today? It’s personal now!”

     Before Edmond could utter so much as a cry for help, he received a fist right to the center of his face which felt like the force of a freight train hitting him. But it wasn’t just one, it was the addition of 4 others all at once. All he could do now was curl up into a ball, trying to block the hits from each of his attackers. One after the other, he felt the curled up hands pummeling his body on the stone cold ground. But just as he thought they were going to stop, Edmond felt a hard kick to his stomach, followed by a stomp to the top of his head, which then continued into another pummeling of fists. No matter how much Edmond tried to defend himself, he kept on getting hit with one strike after the other. This carried on long enough to the point where Edmond started bleeding both externally and internally, even coughing out the crimson red liquid in between breaths he could muster up from being kicked in the stomach and stomped on his ribs. Things were starting to get blurry for him and his hearing was not much better, almost as though it were all very far away. He could have sworn that he heard Hadrian, a couple professors, and some other students or staff members rushing to aid him but it felt like it wouldn’t matter soon. But, if it was God or some other force of will by the universe being merciful to him, the hoodlums that were beating him suddenly stopped and looked at him with a sense of worry. It was just as much apparent to Edmond as it was to them and the group now approaching him that he was now dying with how much of a beating he had taken and how much blood he had lost from it all. Looking all very slowly with his blurry vision while on his back, he saw Hadrian as little more than a blob, but also saw his book he was carrying earlier, the Count Of Monte Cristo.
     He blinked for a moment, and a sort of shadow appeared before him. Edmond blinked once again, and the shadow became a tad bit more clear. He blinked once more and he saw a very familiar individual looked down on him in an almost pitiful or mournful way. He reached out to the outline of the individual, without even knowing why, but all suddenly went very dark and with that, Edmond’s entire arm dropped like a tree being felled, and his last breath went out like a steam train stopping at its station to pick up passengers. It was at this moment, Edmond, with the last remaining moments he had available to him, knew and accepted that he had just died. For a moment or more, Edmond simply was alone in that dark enclosure of death, thinking that this would be it. It would only be him, left alone to his thoughts, perhaps until he was buried into the ground where he would further be left to his own thoughts until finally he would stop thinking altogether and that would be his second death. But before long, a shining light in this darkness appeared to him, and he seemed to “walk” towards it with a curious but cautious air. The closer and closer he walked towards it, the more he could actually see of himself due to its brightness, and thus had to cover his eyes with his now visible hand to continue to follow it. After some more “walking”, wherever he was, he saw what it was. It was the outline of the individual he saw right before he died.
   “Who are you?” Edmond called out to the shadowy figure being covered by light.
   “Who am I?” The individual questioned back. “ A silly question, boy. You already know who I am. Surely, someone such as yourself could not possibly be so clueless as to knowing who I am with how much you were educated.”
   “I don’t understand. Are you… God?” Edmond continued to ask.
   “No. Perhaps I was treated like one by you and many others before your time, but I am not God nor am I a god of anything either.”
   “Then… are you the Reaper?” Edmond asked once again.
   “I reaped the lives of many, yes. But I am not the reaper either, no.”
   “I… I don’t understand this at all. Who are you then?”

     The figure in the darkness turned towards Edmond. He was roughly the same height as himself, he wore a coat of blue sleeves with a torso piece of white, black boots, leather gloves tucked into his belt, hair not unlike Edmond’s own mop, and a very familiar looking hat… a bicorne! This was no force of will by the universe, nor a god, nor the reaper. This figure, this person, he was Napoleon Bonaparte himself! Upon seeing this, Edmond gasped and was rendered speechless, he simply couldn’t react in a proper way after seeing his idol standing right in front of him, he was so enamored he even forgot that he had just died not so long ago.
   “I know who you are just as well as you know me. I’ve seen you, studying my tactics, my enemies, my weaknesses which you wrote about how to turn into strengths… I never expected just the simple fact that your father and your grandfather and your fathers before them to inspire you to study about me as much as you had after them telling stories to you about me in my times of glory. All of that from simply having an ancestor who served in my Grande Armée… I am impressed, truly. You have my admiration to be quite honest.” The French Emperor smiled warmly at Edmond, who was still quite in shock, even more so after hearing that his idol had admiration for HIM of all people. But for a moment or two, there was a sort of quietness. Napoleon then looked at Edmond and asked him something in a very serious tone.
   “However, tell me, boy. Is this really all you wish to make of your life? A simple meeting with me and then going off to a life where you’ll find ‘eternal rest’? That’s all too lackluster for someone such as yourself. That is not a fate befitting of you, I am certain of it. Even looking right into your eyes, I can tell that this isn’t enough, and I cannot blame you. I would be quite upset in your position as well.”
   “Emperor?” Edmond questioned finally after finding his voice to speak again.
   “Is this really what you want is what I’m asking? Be honest with me. Is all you wanted in life to only have looked in awe at power rather than having your own power?”
   “I…” Edmond had no way to respond to that sort of question. It is true he had pictured himself commanding a garrison of soldiers as a general for Napoleon at times, but he hadn’t actually thought of being on the same level as him. But that is when Napoleon took off his hat and outstretched his hand towards Edmond.
   “I shall give you two options and two options only.” Started Napoleon, “You shall either walk away and further onwards into the light where you shall find eternal rest, or you will take my hand you will be born into a new world, to have a new future, for a new REVOLUTION to take place… if you choose to do so of course. I need not your word, only your action. What say you, young man… Edmond? What will be your choice?”

     Edmond stood there, thinking. His mind was a stirring pot of ideas and inner monologue on what he should do. It felt like hours upon hours had passed by, perhaps even years, until finally he took Napoleon’s hand and shook it rather firmly. He looked the emperor in the eyes, and he saw his own reflection from within them. Napoleon, smiling, put his hat back on and bowed a bit to Edmond. He said to him “You have made an excellent choice, my friend.” and told the boy to follow him to the “other side”, which was a very different world.
“Fear not,” started the Emperor with a firm but comforting tone of voice. “I shall still accompany you to this other world, you will not be left alone without guidance. Though, of course, none in this other world shall be able to see me. You may talk to me and interact with me, but no one else shall be able to do so. Be sure to keep that in mind lest you wish to be perceived as insane.”

     Before long, Napoleon appeared to have “opened” a door of some sort. He looked towards Edmond and gestured to go inside of it. Edmond, hesitating for a moment, walked towards it but told Napoleon “Thank you, Emperor. Truly.” and proceeded to step into this new light before him. It wasn’t before long that Edmond felt a sort of falling sensation. He started to plummet further and further down this seemingly bottomless hole until finally he was able to open his eyes. He looked up at a tired but happy woman and a smiling man. Raising his one hand, he could see it was a bit chubby and small. The realization then struck Edmond, that he had not simply just gone to another world, but had in fact been reborn! Thus began the beginning of the glory of Edmond. The beginning of his story, his legacy in this new world, and his ever lasting effect on it.