The next day came after a restless night that shook Hirow out of his comfortable perception of the world. The sun had barely passed the horizon when he was on his way to Haddrung’s shack. Wisps of clouds lay above as rays of purple and orange climbed up in the east. A haze covered the village, and a light breeze carried the scent of dirt and preserved meats. He realized the star festival was today. Would he come to detest it after hearing the rest of Haddrung's story? He could at least enjoy the celebration that preceded the spiritual side, which he never cared for anyway. But something would still be missing. He would still be questioning the reason they celebrated. Hadn’t he always done that? This time, he would not be questioning the priests. He would be questioning himself. The thought frustrated him, and he quickened his pace. Yet now, it was necessary for his pursuit of truth.

Hirow stood at the doorstep, frozen. The light fog wafted across the ground, penetrating every street and flowing to the fields beyond. He looked around and saw only a few shadows of people sulking across the street as the fog blanketed each one of them. The festive spirit would not pick up until later that day; after each person finished their duties. Today was a day everyone could feel a sense of unity; for a brief time, someone could feel like they were part of something bigger. To be excluded from that would be like a wolf leaving her cub to die. Even in that situation, truth alone should sustain someone. As long as they knew the truth anyone could survive in this world.

Truth is all I need, Hirow thought. The truth can carry me through everything.

He knocked on the door and waited with a newfound reassurance. Doubt still lingered, but in the pursuit of truth, one had to endure many things, even doubt. After waiting for an uncomfortable amount of time, the door creaked open, and Haddrung peered out.

A smile appeared on his face, “I’m glad you came back. I was worried after my outburst yesterday.”

Hirow grinned back and entered the hut. Nothing inside had changed, but he felt a new air about the old man. It felt as though some invisible chain around Haddrung had been broken.

“Take a seat. You must want to hear the rest of my story.”

“Yes, let's do that,” Hirow responded, taken out of thought. This was it. This was the day he could finally learn the truth; when his mind would be opened.

The bench creaked as Haddrung leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. With a sigh, he started.

“My father, as I said, was a great inventor favored by the people and priests. Although, it was his pursuit of knowledge that took him in the end. It was an evening like any other; the sun was beginning to set, and my father set out dinner for that night. Before that evening, I hadn’t seen him much for the past few weeks as he was occupied with some new project, and when I did see him he was tired and didn’t participate in any conversations with me. That night was different. He had a smile on his face and an energetic air about him. He spoke to me with care and vigor in his voice, as he questioned my occupations. As our conversation drew to an end, he got up from the table and asked for me to come to his workshop. Blissfully unaware of what was about to happen, I followed because I trusted him. He had never disappointed me, and seeing his inventions always brought me joy. I was a fool, and so was he; nevertheless he was a fool I loved. As we walked towards the workshop, the sun had set, and the moon was waiting to look upon misfortune.”

“My father led me into his workshop which was cluttered with metal and wood. Small neglected gadgets lay in the corner collecting dust, but my father ignored the clutter and kept moving. We made our way through the mess and reached the back, where there was a small clearing with a workbench against the wall. My father turned an oil lamp on, and soft light from the flame illuminated it.

With a compassionate voice, he turned and beckoned me to follow him, “Come, I hope this will make up for my absence.”

“As I approached the table, I could see a glass oval with twisting metal rods lining the bottom of it. My eyes followed the metal ropes extending from the oval to a black box a few feet away. This machine seemed different than the ones my father had previously created. It was more complex, and it was hard to determine its function. I decided that I wouldn’t ask my father what it did until I saw it myself. I had always loved the moment my father showed me a new gadget. Each time, I was filled with wonder as I saw them spring to life in front of me, and once again, I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“My father climbed out of the clutter behind me carrying metal ropes in one hand and the switch that would end his life in the other. He placed the switch on the table and, with a smile, turned and told me to take a few steps back. I watched him work as he connected the switch and the glass oval; he carefully weaved the metal ropes around its base.”

After finishing, he turned to me eyes wide, and confidently said, “Son, watch carefully, today I have taken the power of the gods. The priests preach that the power of light is reserved for the gods, but today I will show you man can control it too.”

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“His ambition enthralled me, and I watched with excitement as he whipped back around and grasped the switch with his hand. My father stood still for a moment, staring at the handle with cold eyes. Th … Then with a loud thud, he flipped the switch.”

Haddrung paused and took a deep breath as his legs began to shake. He then continued, “An intense but beautiful light filled the glass oval, lighting up the area around. I saw a demon clothed in light, yet my eyes lit up in wonder, and my mouth hung open in awe. It seemed as if time had frozen around me as I stared into the undying light. It was brighter and more beautiful than anything I had seen. I looked away for a moment after I felt a sting in my eyes, and then I beheld it again. My father also stood frozen, gazing at his creation in wonder. Then he touched his finger to the glass and slowly, with eloquence, dragged it across the clear surface. As he did this, the light followed along, flowing and rippling like a gentle stream of water, only disturbed by the movement of his finger. He drew his finger back and forth across the oval, conducting the light to either side of the glass orb. My father was captivated by his creation, and I didn’t dare to take a step forward for fear of disturbing his tranquility.”

“Seeing my father made this happy through his work brought me joy also. I sat contently, watching him play with the light for what seemed like an eternity. This moment of joy I now realize didn’t last long.”

“As I was about to awaken my father out of his state of peace, I heard a horrid screech as a crack appeared on the surface of the glass oval. I then moved forward and called my father to step back as another ghastly screech rang out. After the second wave of sound, my ears were ringing. Despite my cries, my father stayed near. I saw him in a frantic frenzy, looking for something. Then, as I was about to get back up, he grabbed a piece of metal nearby and drew it in front of him like a shield.”

“After that, the light showed its true form.”

Haddrung was shaking with his hands tightly clasped around his head as he fell silent for a minute.

“We can stop if you want. I think I understand what you mean now.” Hirow responded.

They both sat a couple more minutes in silence. He could hear the monotonous voices of people saying prayers before the festival. They both listened until Haddrung looked up and solemnly said, “I must tell you more if you are to know the wretchedness of this demon I witnessed.”

Looking back up at Hirow, he continued in an uneasy voice, “The flash of light quickly dissipated from the room and left me to behold my fa-father. It had transformed him into a mangled corpse with shards of metal protruding from his melted flesh. Parts of his body were liquefied as if he were a candlestick, and his-s blood had erupted across the worktable, the walls, and the floor. I cried at the horrors I had witnessed until the rest of the people in the village came running into the workshop. All they found was me. I was lying in a pool of my and my father’s blood grasping at what was left of my mutilated right arm. I was alone knowing a truth no one else would believe, and as a child, that hideous truth destroyed me.”

“After the revelation, I was taken in by a family a few days later. They provided for me but mostly left me alone to wallow in my sorrows. I could tell they feared me. They feared that I would bring them misfortune as they believed I had to my father. Some spread the rumor that I had killed my father.” Haddrung stood up shaking with anger.

"How could they believe that I, a small boy who was found crying and cowering in fear, had killed my father! I had an intense hatred towards those who perpetuated this abominable rumor, but my hatred for the priests grew even more as they confiscated all my father’s inventions.” Exhausting himself, he collapsed back into the chair and continued, “The village had become a better place because of those things, but in their short-sightedness, they saw them as nothing but curses. After I became old enough to fend for myself, I left to settle in this shack on the edge of town. Over time I came to forget the family that cared for me, then those I had a burning hatred for but never… NEVER have I forgotten what the light did to me and my father.”

Hirow sat in silence observing Haddrung as he finished his story. Inside he was horrified, but he also felt great sympathy for him. The story was almost unbelievable, yet here Haddrung stood in front of him as living proof. Light had always been something that he had known to give life, but he had never heard of it directly causing death. The light Haddrung described seemed alien and unnatural, or at least something new. He had always questioned the star festival because he saw no benefit in worshiping something that gave nothing in return. He wondered if he could continue to stand the celebration. Haddrung’s actions now seemed more acceptable than celebrating, but alas no one had seen or experienced what Haddrung had. What angered him the most was that a broken old man was living in the midst of all of them, but not a single person had reached out to him. The one thing that people weren’t blissfully unaware of was the one thing they didn’t act on.

The noise of cheering and bells came from outside, and Hirow realized how much time had passed. The light streaming in through the cracks in the wall had changed from white to deep orange. The bench creaked as Hirow stood up. Haddrung was resting his head on his hands, listening to celebrations outside.

“I can stay with you tonight,” Hirow said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know that it’ll be difficult.”

“No, go do what you want. I think I’ll be alright. I hadn’t told that story to anyone in a long time, and when I did after the incident, no one would believe me. Just your listening was enough. This year won’t be as bad as the last, and maybe the next will be better. I’ve started to find some peace thanks to you.”

Hirow opened his mouth to speak but kept silent. Then he said, “Thank you,” and walked towards the door.

The house seemed the same. The boards creaked as his feet stepped on each one, the walls were still covered in holes, and dirty dishes lay by the fireplace, but the man inside that shabby hut did not. As Hirow walked out the door, he turned back and smiled at Haddrung. Then, for the first time, a smile free of burden appeared on the old man’s face. The door shut behind him, and he was thrust back into the uncertain world.