Light Falls

XVIII.

Roxanne was determined to head to the headquarters of The Glare, to join with them and help the Light reach all, being followed by the people, not manipulated. The way things were meant to be. She started out, but was overcome by emotion- she wanted to honor Erin’s sacrifice for her and felt drawn to watch the firing squad, even though she knew it would be painful and heart wrenching. Something pulled her there, but another voice told her that would be foolish and essentially suicide, throwing away all that Erin had done for her. To truly honor her sacrifice she needed to bring harmony to Tiesa between the two sides of the Schism. That was the way to honor her. Roxanne was still pulled back, perhaps by a desire to help, hoping that if she were there, somehow, Erin would not be killed and they could both live on. She knew this wasn’t true, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could, should even, save her. Torn and feeling like a piece of her was ripped out, about to be lost forever, she began to weave her way through the city, hoping to push thoughts of Erin and her imminent death because of her, to the back of her mind.

Roxanne weaved throughout the waning hours of darkness, continuing as the Light began to trickle out across the city. She stopped, looking around at the Light as it came out, watching the transformation of Tiesa as it touched on everything. Even the destruction seemed to have more purpose when seen in the Light. Roxanne was awestruck and couldn’t help staring as the Light grew and covered more and more of the city. As she was watching, faintly the sound of shots being fired echoed across the largely silent city. Roxanne let out a silent scream, knowing that it was over. Erin was dead. She started to go towards the Lighthouse, driven by guilt, thinking that somehow her presence would make things right, that she could offer herself and Erin would return to life, or at the least, she wouldn’t be alone, friendless. Again, the other part of her reminded her that Erin was gone and the only thing she could do to honor her and make her sacrifice worth something, was to heal the Schism.

Once more determined, Roxanne faced herself to the coast and began to weave, ducking and hiding, hoping that no Light Police would find her. The city seemed oddly devoid of them, given how prevalent they seemed to be the night before when she left the League and almost instantly they were upon her. Perhaps they were occupied elsewhere or she had been the primary target and her capture had signaled a decrease in patrols. Maybe Tiesa was coming together, although from the looks of the city as Roxanne made her way out, that was not the case. There would be no Tiesa left to come together. Commotion filled the city, shouts and cheers ringing out. Curious as to the cause, Roxanne looked back and saw the flag of The Glare rise above the Radiant Tower.

*

“This was the end of the beginning for me and the beginning of the end for you, Bartholomew, old friend.”

“I don’t understand. Who are you?”

“The Glare! But the question that most concerns you is not who I am, but who I was. I lost a life, Bartholomew at your hand. It hurt, yes, but the man, no the legend, that emerged from the ashes of a boy that you created, is about to bring peace to Tiesa.”

“No…it can’t be…”

“Oh, but it can. Look at me!” The Glare’s face was filled with emotion as he snatched the eye patch from his face, showing the scar that was burned through his now blind eye.

“Patrick?” Bartholomew sunk his head, with the realization that perhaps the current polarization and destruction of Tiesa was even more directly his fault than he had previously considered. “But how? You were buried, there’s no way you can be Patrick. He’s dead.”

“Yes, Patrick is dead, Bartholomew. Now there is only The Glare. And I have you to thank for it. You showed me the Light, yes, it blinded me, but even blind, I see more clearly. I have you to thank for that.”

“Patrick, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never thought…”

“That I would rival your power? That you would answer to me as the leader of Tiesa? Come on, Bartholomew. You were afraid that I would grow greater than you from the beginning, that’s why you hid the Light from me. You knew that if I could see all of the Light, I wouldn’t need you anymore, you were afraid that you would lose your influence over me.”

“No. I was afraid that you would lose sight of what really mattered, that you would be overwhelmed by small things, missing the bigger picture, that the Shadows would draw you in, that you wouldn’t be able to resist the mystery that they offered. And I was right. You have become exactly what I feared. Lost, misdirected. Blinded.”

“You are the one that is blinded, Bartholomew. The only way for Tiesa to rebuild after the apathy that was rampant after the so called Day of Resolution is to give the Light back to the people, to let Light mingle with Shadow, as the dark and light mingle on the storm tossed sea. Then you can find the harmony and peace that you seek. In the midst of chaotic opposition.

And that is precisely what we are going to do. We are going to bring down Radiant Tower, letting the Light scatter amongst all of Tiesa, casting Shadows where it will. All will be their own Keepers, no longer needing to look to the Lighthouse for Keeping. You will be obsolete and broken.

Truly, you are the one that is blind, Bartholomew, or you would have seen this coming.”

“It can’t work, Patrick. The Light needs community to function. Without the Light collected, it is not nearly as powerful. Scattering the Light will simply leave all of Tiesa in darkness.”

The Glare’s hardened face, seemed to crack for a split second, as if he hadn’t considered that possibility, but before it could hardly be noticed, it reverted back to the callous look that he usually wore.

“The Light was once the people’s and so it will be again. Don’t frighten me with wive’s tales Bartholomew. You should no better than to believe them.”

Bartholomew shook his head, hopeless and afraid for the future of Tiesa in the hands of one so careless and arrogant.

“Justice will come to you. It may be years in coming, but you cannot flee his vengeance. His hand will not be stayed.”

“Perhaps. Or Justice has finally come to you, avenging those that you slaughtered in the name of the Light, crying out for loyalty and undercutting yourself with every murder.”

A look of horror crossed Bartholomew’s face, for The Glare had given voice to the fear that had been haunting his subconscious since the attack. His actions were not just and finally Justice was coming to repay him for soiling his name. He wanted to respond and deny the allegation, but couldn’t. It cut too deeply.

The Glare grabbed Bartholomew’s chin and raised his head to look him in the eyes.

“The truth has found you, hasn’t it? It’s a shame you killed Fairfax. He was great, you know. He may have been able to bring peace to Tiesa without the mayhem that is necessary now.”

Bartholomew was silent, lamenting his wrongs and seeking for direction. What could he do? Did he have to let the Justice of The Glare take effect? Was there another way?

“Oh, Bartholomew. Cheer up. The Light will soon be given to all. Any last farewells I can make for you?”

The Glare’s voice was filled with mockery, but his words caught the attention of Bartholomew, who responded.

“Erin.”

The Glare laughed.

“Erin? That time has past. You killed her.” The Glare left Bartholomew alone, bound in the Radiant Tower, laughing as he left.

Bartholomew collapsed. Erin was the last hope for Tiesa, she was the only one with the strength and devotion to accomplish the uniting that needed to take place. She must have taken her life when she found out about Roxanne’s execution. He truly deserved to suffer at the hands of Justice for the destruction he had caused and the lives he had ruined. How had he fallen so far? He only wanted to bring about good for all of Tiesa and demanded only adherence to the Light. Where had he strayed that led to the disorganization and chaos that reigned throughout Tiesa now? How had his loyalty been tainted, when did he lose sight of following the Light deciding to lead the Light, controlling it himself?

He no longer deserved to lead and knew that he had brought this punishment upon himself. He had sacrificed Love for the Light, lost now in the deep, dark crevices where the Light could not reach.

*

Tiesa was destroyed. The battle between the Light Police and The Glare disguised as Light Police had brought in effectively all of able-bodied Tiesa. The city was being laid to waste, left a dystopian nightmare. The battle raged on, with heavy confusion. No one seemed sure of who they were fighting or what they were fighting for, but stuck in the battle, they had no choice but to continue fighting. Any that fled risked being shot in the back or hit by some outside person, waiting to take advantage of runners. Women and children had largely fled the inner city, with some joining in the fray.

Roxanne heard the battle and saw the chaos that surrounded it, those that could fleeing the edges before it reached their homes and others running to take a side. She was lost, doubting that she could even do anything worthwhile to slow what seemed the inevitable destruction of Tiesa. How could they rebuild from this? Could the Schism ever be healed or was the only way to annihilate those that disagreed? Could there be harmony between groups with such opposing views? Was there a hope for reconciliation? Roxanne slumped to the ground on the hill that she had just crested, giving her a view of the burning wreckage of Tiesa and the carnage that currently was raging within it.

She looked at the Lighthouse, with it’s crumbling walls and the Radiant Tower with the flag of The Glare waving at the top. She looked back and saw that the flag had been lowered, but a flag now flew in the Square on a newly erected flag pole.

She buried her head in her hands, struggling to decide, searching for the hope that had been so bright days before in the home of the League. Could she find it again? She didn’t know.

A huge flash of light came from the base of the Radiant Tower. It momentarily blinded her, through her hands and caused the battle to cease. After the flash an enormous explosion was heard. Followed by another flash and another explosion, and two more flashes and two explosions. The light was so bright that the battle stopped as they were unable to see. Without sight, the Radiant Tower fell, collapsing into the streets. The crystals scattered, flying from the windows, throwing Light and Shadow everywhere. The Light belonged once again to the people of Tiesa.