From The Office of Bastion of V'alen, W'illiam
The report of lying in the town of I'lochin is a trivial affair. Even so, expect my dispatch to arrive within the fortnite. Look to a man named A'rthur. He will act in my stead to uncover the truth of this accusation.
As for this unusual means of communication: It is usual that we deal with accusations by having the Accuser make the matter known in person or at least to attach a name so that they may be identified. Please meet A'rthur when he arrives in I'lochin and make yourself known as the one who has summoned him. He will be staying at the town mayor’s, with whoever its current caretaker is. Please make arrangements that A'rthur will be able to meet with you the very same day he arrives. Failure to do so will result in a penalty.
I read the letter from the safety of the woods on the edge of our farm. News of the accusation against my father was now underway and I had set into motion things that I would no longer be able to stop. The secret was out. I had told someone.
I had mixed feelings. I was terrified of being found out as the one who told. If for some reason my father did not get punished for his sin (at least the lying) and removed from our family outright, he would continue to be the monster, if not worse. And I would live in constant fear that I would be found out. Who would save me from him if he ever knew what I had now done?
The fear gripped me as I held the letter, staring out over the field, from the safety of the forest. The farmhouse on the other side of the rolling hills, only a couple acres away, and still well within sight, was now a prison to me. I would be trapped in those walls as my father learned that someone had ‘betrayed’ him. I would need to play a lie until the day he would be brought to the King’s Justice (hopefully). And if that day should never come...I would hope that by other means I could remove him. Or maybe I would have to run away.
As I looked at the farm house, it took on a new light. It was now something unknown to me. I looked at it as if I’d never seen it before. As if it was not my home. As if I didn’t belong there. Would never be able to step foot inside. What if I were to now be cast out, this very moment? I had no possessions on me at the moment. I would need to start planning, today, to always be ready to run if needed. To live outside of I'lochin.
Even though today was a sunny day and my belly was full, I felt anxious. What about where to sleep? About what to eat? I would always need to have those two things cared for. Sleeping seemed to be the easier thing...I could pretty likely be safe in a large city like V'alen. But the food. I would need to maybe start saving up the potions and alcohol I’d hidden. I would need to stop drinking my own supply on bad days. If needed I would steal the more expensive things from father before I left. Maybe some Gewd. It would be very dangerous to walk around with in a final state. But if necessary, I could maybe sell it or learn how to make it on my own? That was something I needed to give more thought.
But the letter itself gave me mixed feelings. It was nice to be holding something that was concrete. Action was being taken. But the Bastion himself was not coming. This concerned me. Would this man named “A'rthur” be enough to deal with my dad and remove him from our town? How would I go about meeting him? Would I? I decided that no, I would not. It was too much a risk. If anything, I would see what happened. If news got to Dran that someone was after my dad, then I could see how that played out. The last thing I could do is let myself be known.
*
“Dran, I was curious about the conversation we had at the lake.”
He stood at his doorstep, slightly surprised. I usually didn’t do more than check with him each time I was in town. To ask for anything to do with his religion would be unusual for me. But luckily, we had developed a little bit of a working relationship over the last few weeks, from the small conversations we’d had. He stood there for a moment, taking me in, and I wondered if maybe A'rthur had reached I'lochin yet.
“Why don’t you come in?”
As I walked in, the strange thought hit me that I could be walking into a trap. If someone came into town and showed someone the letter...Dran might be one of the people who would suspect or figure out it was me. He was not a dumb person. Brief panic shot through me as I tried to remember if I’d written the letters in my own style of lettering. Would it be easy for someone to recognize the spidery way I wrote? But then I did remember. I had painfully taken the time to write in a standard format that could be matched by anyone. There would be no way to trace it back to me.
“Can I offer you anything, Ty?”
This meeting would be short, and only to learn if he’d met with anyone yet. “No thank you. I don’t plan to stay long.”
“Oh.” He turned from the wooden cabinet that held his bowls and cups and walked to the fireplace, which thankfully was already going. My shoes had gotten slightly soggy on the walk into town. “But you had some kind of question, yes?”
“Yeah…how would you believe someone if they told you the reason for why they did something?”
“That’s a great question. And I suppose it’s something you take on faith. You would have no way of knowing they were lying to you.”
“I see.”
“But you know, there’s more to it than that. Your attempt to understand the other person is actually more about you.”
“How do you mean?”
“The process you go through, by taking what the person has done to you and moving them away from their actions, gives you the ability to not judge them or need them to do anything for you to be ok with what happened.”
“But...they need judgment.”
“For sure. Judgment comes for everyone, in one way or another. But beyond that. The deeper thing. You can then be ok with what happened. You need nothing from them in return to make amends. You have freed yourself from them.”
“I’m not sure I understand you.”
“It’s a process, and it involves many things. But locksmithing...remember?...identifying that thing that hurt you. That sin. You can remove it from yourself. Because I say this, it definitely hurts you. And it stays with you until you decide it doesn’t. Sin is like mud. When it touches you, you decide it stays on you until you remove it. By it being there, it doesn’t get removed until you do something about it being there. And some people think that ‘mud’ isn’t there, or that it doesn’t affect them. But it does dirty you if you decide to do nothing about it. Or if you’re just not aware it exists.”
“Ok…” I wasn’t sure I understood fully but I could tell he was getting to a point.
“Well, it’s easier if I show you. We didn’t get to it the other day, but I can show you now if you have the time.”
I thought about the good and bad of leaving now. I had come to learn if I had been found out. So far, no, I hadn’t. But I had come with a lie. I wanted to know more about locksmithing, or so Dran thought, apparently. And to really make sure he didn’t suspect me, it would do good to stay here, even if I wasn’t really into the whole thing. “Sure.” I said this with a shrug as I sat down across from him.
“Now, to begin, I must grab some letters.” He stood up just a second after I’d sat down across from him. “I mean the letters we were working from at the lake.”
As he hurried off into a side room, I was left with the fire and my thoughts.
Being in this space, here and now, I could tell that the moment was rare. Dran did not know that someone was on their way from V'alen, now. And he did not know that I was the one that was responsible for that happening. I had so many secrets and now this was another. I was hoping to protect that secret and make sure I would not be suspected on the day that A'rthur arrived and told Dran his purpose. If I could find ways to make Dran trust me more, I would need to act upon them. Maybe committing to this whole “locksmithing” process he was on about would put me farther into his trust. It would be worth a shot…
Dran returned with the parchments a couple minutes later, and I asked him for water. I’d stayed longer than I’d meant to. My initial question ‘how would you know if someone was lying’ was an easy question. Would it warrant the trip to his house for something so simple? Would he question my motive? But no, I needed to see him anyway while in town by myself. This was just something new. The question was a ‘by the way’ kind of thing. He would not suspect me.
“So...there’s a very lengthy process to all of this.” He stopped shuffling papers for a second to look up at me for a second. “But we don’t have to get very far into it. I just want to introduce you to the ideas of how to do it, and then we go as far as YOU are willing. You can stop at any time.”
I moved a little in my seat to get comfortable, expecting to be here for a while. “Ok.”
“There are some very important rules to this process.” He started reading from the paper:
“They are:
1. Purpose of locksmithing: identifying what locks are and releasing them
2. Point of Liminality: locksmithing is not the goal of life. It is a tool that is sometimes needed for a certain job. Nothing more. Nothing less.
3. Paradigms of a "lock": The word lock is used in place of the word Sin. It merely serves the purpose to take the sting of the word away while doing the actual work of locksmithing.
4. Practices of Respect in Pursuit of LockSmithing:
1. No mentioning to others what is talked about here today (unless you and I agree to do so)
2. The leader of the smithing (that is me, Dran) only guides the locksmith through the process by reading the steps, waiting for a response (however long it takes, Ty, there’s no rush) and then moving forward as the locksmith is willing to continue
5. Pursuit of locksmithing: the three definitions are classic locks, withoutness locks, and finally, doorstops. These are all explained in more detail as needed.
6. Ask to begin locksmithing: ask the locksmith if there are questions and then proceed if they want to.
Dran put down the paper and looked to me. “Do you have any questions?”
“It all seems fairly simple. And I guess that we are dealing with withoutness, right? Like we were talking about in our conversation last time?” It was kind of odd and nice to have a space where I could ask questions without any agenda or fear on my part. It was rare.
“Yes. And the doorstops idea we could get into later. But it would be a whole other conversation and I would rather that we tackle these as we go. Would you agree?”
I liked the idea of being asked for permission. “Yeah that seems fine.”
“What other questions do you have?”
“None right now. I’m guessing you’ll be going on and asking me questions or explaining things.”
“Only if it’s ok with you.”
“Yeah. I’m interested.” And I couldn’t lie about that at the moment.
“There’s one more thing I should explain before we go farther.” He settled back in his chair. “There are more things than just the thief taking something from you. Withoutness can be MUCH more than just classic sins done against you. They can also be the absence of things that are good and they can-”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Explain ‘absence’?”
“Things that you don’t have. Same as withoutness, but a different word.”
“Ok.”
“So things that are good you can be without. Absent. Or rather, absence of them. Absent and absence are the same thing. And to be without them can look like sadness. And what is the opposite of sadness?”
Call and response again. I bit my lip a little before answering. “Joy.”
“Sadness is a withoutness of Joy. It’s a sin.”
I took the new idea in and played with it. “I think I can understand that.”
“You can apply that to anything. Opposite of love? Hate. Hate is something without love in it. Pick other things: greed, lying, stealing. These are opposites of wealth, truth, and or contentment. Those are classic sins. But some things like sadness are maybe what we wouldn’t normally call sin. But they really are. Can you name any others?”
I thought for a bit. “No. But maybe because the idea is still new to me.”
“I’ve found that it’s easy for me to think of something good first, and then find its opposite. That is the withoutness. Name something good.”
The idea came easily. I raised the cup in my hand. “Thirst.”
“Good one.”
“Friendship.” I said it outloud without thinking and then solved it a second later. “Aloneness is the withoutness.”
“Indeed.” There was sadness in Dran’s voice as he confirmed. And I thought it kind of funny that he might be in ‘withoutness’ by being sad now. It was giving me laughter. Which was good. Which countered his sadness. What a funny world we live in.
“So you get it now then,” He continued. “The idea is that withoutness is a lot and everywhere. Pick things that make you sad. They are most often the withoutness. Or the buried sin. Which is a term I don’t fully understand. I am ‘without’ knowledge in that.” He smiled a little. I returned the sparkle in his eye with my own. We seemed to have a share of common love for weird jokes.
“Yeah. I think I get it.”
“All right then. So if you still want to continue…”
“Yes.”
“Then the next step is simple.” He waited for a second too, which made me nervous all of a sudden. “Name a lock.”
Silence for a couple seconds while I waited for him to continue. But he didn’t. “I’m sorry?” I said.
“Name a lock. One that has to do with withoutness. In what way are you encountering withoutness in your life?”
Slowly, but unstoppable like the weight of a falling tree, the question fell on my heart. As I began to understand the question and then consider how to answer, I realized I had so MUCH withoutness. Where to begin? What to say? My lack of riches? The pain given to me by my father? Both physical and every other way? What about the pain of my brother's simplicity? The pain of knowing Nela would one day learn the heartbreaking story of how truly broken our family is? It all came running together quickly, and I realized that these were all monster emotions I had locked in rooms. They were howling. All the time. But I had covered my ears. Looking at them scream at me from inside their caged rooms, I could remember the loudness of their rage. I didn’t even need to release the ears from my heart. I knew what they sounded like and I had learned to not spend my tears on them.
I looked up to Dran, noticing that my eyes had fallen to my hands, which were now in my lap. I blinked at him, emotionless. I didn’t know how I could tell him any of it. I did not trust him. The last time I was in his home, I had screamed at him. I’d left with no good feelings. And to open all of this up...I didn’t know what would happen. I couldn’t. Losing control and maybe telling him anything would undo all of my plans. So what would I say? Dran sat there, staring at me, and I remembered he said I could take all the time I needed. “Give me some time, Dran.”
“Of course.”
I thought of Bela.
“Do you know my brother?”
A very slight smile crept across his face. “Yes, I do.”
“He…” I had to take a moment where the monster that was my rage and shame was put back behind a door. It was threatening to break out of me. “he’s not exactly all there.”
“No. He’s not, is he.”
I looked to Dran, surprised, even though I knew he’d agree. He was still as a blanket. No movement. But there was true sadness and a deep frown on his face. He felt for me. Or for Bela at the very least.
A good bit of time passed between us, and I sat there. Unsure what to do. I was expecting Dran to say something. When I tried to say something by opening my mouth, nothing came out. And that was his sign to pick it up for me.
“You’ve named the lock. Partially. What are you really saying when you speak of Bela?”
“I guess...I’m thinking about what I miss from him. The closeness we could have. If he could understand more. He’s not really my big brother. Not really. Maybe we used to be. But not anymore. Not now that we’re older. I’m passed him. And I feel sad for him, really."
“Hmm...that is a good description of a lock. A withoutness. And now I ask if you’re ready for the next step?”
Something was moving inside of me, and it was deep. The fact that it was there for a while, and then all of a sudden it showed up was shocking. It was so deep and hidden that I didn’t know how to control it, much less know it was right in front of me until it was just...there. A thing that was stirring and being awakened which I couldn’t name. But it was old and more powerful than the anger. It was what fed the anger, but it survived because it slept, sitting there just inside the dark part. Where I couldn’t tell what it was. The darkness was so big and...everywhere inside of me…that I didn’t even know how bringing up Bela had awakened it. But as it moved along inside of me, I felt the anger come at me with a force I had never seen.
Dran let me sit in as much silence as I wanted. And I lost track of time as I looked at the darkness.
I didn’t know if I was tired of the dark thing in me, or if it was what was truly giving me life. It was an unknown thing. Something without logic. And it drove me. That much I knew. But I didn’t know if I hated or enjoyed that part of me. I didn’t know if I wanted to stop it. It didn’t threaten to destroy me. It wanted to consume me. Make me part of it. And I really, truly wanted to be in the darkness. Away from people. Away from Dran. Away from Bela. My family. The town. Everyone. To just be alone. It was this that drove me to tears.
But not tears on the outside. I would never, not in one hundred lifetimes, let Dran see me break. I would never let him ask the question of what was wrong. So, I broke on the inside. The heart cried til I lost all will to live. But my face kept the mask. No emotion went to my head, and definitely not to mouth or eyes. My mind just waited, while part of me wanted to die a slow death.
“Yeah, Dran. I’m ready for the next step.” It came out like I was made of stone, with no ability to go through me.
“The next step is to talk about the lock. But you seemed to have done that a bit. Unless you wanted to talk some more.”
“Not really.”
“Well then. Next step?”
“Sure.”
“Next step is accept the lock.”
I thought about it for all of a couple seconds. Almost smiled at how easy that was. I was completely ok with the withoutness of anyone now. “Done.”
Dran, who had been leaning forward, looking down at his book for a while now, looked up with surprise. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve lived with this thing. This lock. For a while now.”
“Hmm.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. Staring at me, and then at the fire. “But you might need to accept it being there many times throughout your life. That is...until you learned to release the lock. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” He looked back to me. “You’re sure you’ve accepted it?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t even really thinking about it. It was time for the next step and completing this so I could leave.
“Display the lock. Find and release the shame that one feels inwardly or from others.”
“Shame?”
“Yes. Do you have shame that Bela is not like the rest of us?”
I did have to think for a moment. “I suppose maybe. I don’t mention it to other people very often. But I think it’s known to anyone who meets him.”
“What about people who haven’t met him? How would you explain him to someone?”
I narrowed my eyes. Not understanding. Or maybe...not wanting to. I couldn’t tell. “He’s my brother.” My eyes scattered to the right as I said this. I could tell it was because I was dodging it. But the action surprised me. I had shame all right.
“And if they asked what he’s like?” Dran was apparently pretty good at seeing what was in front of him.
I looked up at the ceiling for a second before leveling my eyes at him again. “I would say he’s into masonry.”
“But you wouldn’t mention his slowness?”
“Why would I?”
There was a brief pause, full of intent. “You know. Ty. It’s ok that your brother isn’t the quickest or brightest person. That he’s dumb. He’s an idiot.”
Rage. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know how. It came out of me slow. And it hurt like liquid fire. “You don’t. Dare. Say that about him. You dried river of a soul.” It wasn’t exactly a shout. But it was hot.
Dran leaned all the way forward. Because I was also leaning forward now, we were about arms reach from each other. It felt a lot closer.
“You go and break my furniture again or raise your voice at me? You’re out. Got it? And you don’t get to hide from your dad here in town. You respect me.”
With all that I had, I sat there. Not saying a word. But I was shaking. Whatever was inside of me. All of it. It wanted to attack everything in sight. It could’ve been anything. Bela. My dad. Dran. R'osy. The woman. My mom. The bookshop owner. I started coming up with anyone who had ever done me wrong. Then I thought about Nela. Gahn. People I wouldn’t do anything to. Who had only helped or cared about me. I couldn’t lose it. Not for them. I respected Gahn. I loved Nela. I needed to see this through for her at least. I could take more.
I calmed down and looked him in the eyes once more.
“I get that I just said some mean things about your brother. But that was the point, wasn’t it?” Dran leaned back after saying this.
I saw the truth of what he’d done and why. The wind blew out of me. “*sigh*...Sorry.”
“I forgive you.” He said coolly.
A quick lightning of anger shot through at him, just as a reaction, but I killed it.
“Don’t know where it came from.” I shook my head as I looked at the floor. “I don’t think it was about Bela.” I heard noise from his chair. The sound of a blanket moving.
“It’s ok Ty. You’ve had a lot happen to you in your short life.” I didn’t know if he was moving to hug me or settle back in his chair again. But I didn’t want to look up.
This was pity. He felt bad for me. And I was ok with that. I was now empty of emotion again, not wanting to say anything. Should I stop this now and call it a day?
I looked up at him. He was staring at me. “Continue?”
“No.” I said it almost without breath, thankful the conversation was ending. It had tired me.
“Understandable. But before we stop,” He held out a palm, but face up. A sign that he was trying to be peaceful. “I would like to wrap up where we’re at. Do you think you could do that?”
“I guess.” But I didn’t really know.
“It wasn’t about Bela?”
“No. It was a lot of other things.” Truth.
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Yeah, I don’t.” Truth. “At least, not yet.” Lie. “Maybe one day.” Mostly-lie.
“There’s no pressure.” He went back on those words. “Or I mean, I did apply pressure. You can see how this locksmithing can be very difficult.”
“Yeah.” And I was honestly impressed at what Dran was able to get out of me with a regularity that no one else was.
“Well, if you can...I’d like to finish this step. But tell me if you can’t. By the way, this process is about three or four times longer than how far we’ve gotten so far.”
I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a deep, very noisy sigh. “What step are we on?” I smiled and stuck out my tongue.
“Haha. Yeah. Ok. Umm...It’s the display lock. I asked you if you have shame about Bela. I think you do.”
To finish the conversation, I decided to honestly consider it. It sounds likely. If this was a lock, a withoutness, then I would be ashamed at least in some way that I had this withoutness. Again, even though this wasn’t my fault. “Yeah. But I don’t know how I feel shame. But I think it’s there.”
“Do you feel ashamed of yourself or do you feel it from other people?”
“Why would I feel ashamed of myself? Bela is the one who is different.”
“Do you care that he’s different?”
The answer was obvious, but I knew it was probably the reason for my shame. “Yeah I care that he’s different.”
“That’s where you have the lock. The withoutness. The lack of connection. You said it yourself. Even in a forest, without anyone else around, if it was just you and Bela, you would be…”
“...Ashamed?” Something was clicking.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“It’s the nature of these things. You learn it over time. You have a feeling that something with Bela isn’t right. You wish it were otherwise. That is the very heart of what can cause shame. It is how you are dealing with that judgment that matters.”
“I judge him?”
“We all judge each other. The question is what do we do with the judgment. Do I care that Bela is different? Yes. Do you? Yes. But we care in different ways. You’re closer to him. But not as close as you want. It is causing you grief. That grief you are ashamed of. But you don’t have to be.”
I didn’t believe him before, but now I did. I realized that I could let go of the shame and keep the grief. They were not the same thing. “I feel bad that Bela is different. But it’s ok that he is.” It was actually a question more than just me saying it was true.
“Yes.” Dran nodded a bunch. For his part, he thought I had gotten it. It was still a new idea to me.
“That is one for me to think on.” Truth.