The Duelist

It’s interesting to watch the two of you fight. You just clam up and he knits his brow and seems unable to solve some riddle you’ve posed him. Sometimes I have no idea why it happens. I’m looking at you two and suddenly I realize that you’re arguing. And veiling it poorly.

Your fights end when you relent (and tell him the answer to your puzzle) or when he figures it out. And then you’re both back to leaning on each other and being sweet.

Then it hits me. Someday, he won’t be able to answer, and you won’t relent. And that will be the end.

Tall, sheer mountain faces. A translucent bridge of many steps.  Mist, massive white clouds. Snow.

Draw cloak over head, walk on. The eye of the world ahead. The city of sun and stars behind, below.

Wings straining against the cloak. Walk on.

Warmed by the warmth of her memory. The warmth of dreams of her.

A dream within a dream, self-referential recursion within more recursive patterns. There are patterns at work here, patterns that tell the same story over and over again, with new details, switched in and out by the caprices of memory and forgetfulness.

Always walking on. Always moving forward. Always something approached, always something left behind.

To obtain, something of equal value must be left behind.

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.

But in order to fill a form with the necessary essence or force, the force that is already indwelling must first be emptied. A vessel must first be emptied before it can be refilled.

It begins as a point, an almost infinitesmally-small bubble in the viscous mixture.

Then it expands, a spherical vacuum, emptying a space that was once saturated with the unwanted substance. Before it has the opportunity to collapse, however, before the space is refilled with the same dross, the alchemist fills the void with the desired essence. Suddenly the vessel contains the element that it previously was too full to hold.

The form begins to vibrate with a different force, and the reactions take on an altogether different path of causality. The very nature of the totality has been altered, has been made to proceed in the manner that the alchemist desires, though the form of the vessel remains unchanged.

To obtain the desired result, something of equal value was lost. But it was not lost as payment; the old was simply discarded to make room for the new.

Come down from there.

Don't just stand there and gawk at me. I'll feel pretty silly if I have to climb up and get you, you know. Come down from there.

Remember. Remember just being with me. Remember your hand in mine. Remember walking with me. Remember the way you would look at me, the way I would look at you. Remember darting glances, secret smiles.

Come down from there and take my hand. Come down from there and walk with me. We don't have to go anywhere in particular. We're not in any rush. Just walk by my side again.

Come down from there and take my hand. 

(Thanks to ceilede for the idea. This is based on the excellent article at Key 23.)

He walked on, holding the chalice in his heart. The destination was clear in his vision; a white tower standing clear in the summer twilight on the horizon. He began the journey almost beaten down, he had forgotten the flame he carried. But the longer he walked and the closer he was to the white tower, the taller he stood, the surer he stepped. He began the long journey almost invisible, nondescript, indistinguishable from the people he passed on the way. Now he was unmistakable. His bearing marked him as the Highson. He treated those he would pass along the way with respect and was respected in return, almost deferred to. In certain plays of the light one could almost make out a halo, or a pair of iridescent wings on his back. He began at first to glow, and then to shine, until one looking upon him at a distance could mistake him for a star.

Or the sun.

Even one looking upon him from so far as the white tower. And he drew ever closer, inexorably. Nothing would stop him now.