Parting Ways

XXIV.

After the escape, The Glare was charged with hunting down the escapees and bringing them back to face justice for their actions. They roamed the streets, breaking into homes and interrogating anyone that seemed to harbor loyalties for the Lighthouse or sympathize with the plight of the Keepers. The Glare was paranoid and over zealous, hoping to find all of the prisoners and return them, the sooner the better as The Glare, himself was growing impatient and furious with the failure that lead to the disruption of the order and the effectiveness that had been characteristic of the Glare’s actions up to that point. His frustration was apparent and bled over onto those that supported him, or had supported him. The support began to wane some as followers felt like there was little separation between the actions of The Glare and the Lighthouse. It only differed in who was on the receiving end of the persecution. But the persecution remained. Whether this was inherent in any new system of leadership, was unknown. The actions of The Glare remained relatively secret, with only those absolutely in the need to know having access to the bigger picture.

Patrick told a rosier version of events to Roxanne, claiming that the patrols were to help equalize the Light and ensure that the Light was being spread fairly, while those that refused to cooperate and violently protected their right to the Light were brought in for questioning and trial. Roxanne was skeptical of Patrick’s remarks, but was unsure of what she could do to stop him, if he was really rounding up those that disagreed and confining them to the prison cells in the tower. She focused in stead on strategy, crafting ways that the Light could be maximized and spread to all. Searching for optimal placement throughout Tiesa, so that all the people could revel in the Light and use it to its greatest advantage, not hiding things, but keeping shadows there when desired. An openness and proximity to the Light that enabled questioning and dialogue, with resident Keepers rather than a gathering of Keepers, in one centralized location. Roxanne grew found of the ideas that she developed and enjoyed talking them over with Patrick, but there still seemed to be something missing. There was still an over reliance on a hierarchical structure of leadership that seemed to inherently keep certain individuals out of the loop. Roxanne struggled with a way to empower the people more to give all equal access to and loyalty to the Light, but couldn’t find it.

She thought about breaking the crystals into smaller pieces and placing them in every home to provide Light to each family, but thought that that would leave the outside of Tiesa dark and shadowy. Perhaps make the Light portable, like the staff that Bartholomew used to carry, sometimes placed indoors to provide Light, but other times carried outside and wherever there was a need for the Light.

Roxanne continued to puzzle over the best way to spread the light to all, finding flaws in each design or thought that she had. Her questioning, skeptic side proving disastrous to her ability to decide anything with finality. Nothing had yet withstood her fierce questioning, always able to find flaws and weaknesses, Roxanne wondered if there would ever be a way to have the Light equally brought to all people, without some form of hierarchy forming. As she immersed herself in her thoughts, Patrick entered.

“How goes the day’s pondering on the unsolvable woes of Tiesa? Any breakthroughs that will be of worth to The Glare and the equal distribution of the Light?” The questions were asked playfully, but there was a glint in The Glare’s eye that signaled he was serious about wanting results, not content to simply wonder forever, questing for the perfect, ideal solution to be put down in writing and remembered as a great philosophical work, without providing any practical value, as the people of Tiesa would likely have ripped themselves apart again, by the time any such magnum opus would be complete.

Roxanne looked at The Glare, his haughtiness written all over his face, the look that said that no matter how much you learned, he would always consider himself above you for reaching the state he was at first.

“I’ve made some progress, but can’t get it quite right. Everything is so flawed. I can’t come up with a solution without instantly seeing all the problems with it. I want to create smaller communities or neighborhoods with the Light located in a centralized location in each community, with a resident Keeper, so that the people can access them and the Light easily, the huge separation and disconnect of the Lighthouse will be no more. I don’t know how the city as a whole will function or how the Keeper will refrain from taking advantage of his position, but it seems like a start to something better and more equal, bringing the Light closer to the people than ever before.”

“Hmm. Just get rid of the Keeper. Let the people take care of themselves. What need is there for the Keepers anyway? Besides reinforcing some old school power relationships. The Keepers will only act as a separation between the people and the Light, a separation that we don’t need. That will push things back to how they were before all that we’ve done. We can’t afford a return to the same old Tiesa that persecuted those that thought differently. We need a diversity of thought, the Light and the Shadow.”

“How can we have that when all that’s left is the League and The Glare? Both controlled by you and therefore have the same thought ingrained in them to varying degrees and ends, but the same thought nevertheless.”

“It will rise up. You’re here. You can be the leader of the diversity of thought, bringing counter ideas to the table. You and I together for the greater cause of the Light, with our very different approaches and understandings.”

Roxanne was drawn in to herself, thinking about some of the things that Patrick had said earlier, not fully engaged with his last remarks, thinking what the impact of his suggestions for the equal distribution of the Light would be.

“Perhaps. Maybe we could get rid of the Keepers…Patrick, I have it! Listen. We can train everyone in the art of keeping, give everyone the tools to be their own Keeper and create a rotation of sorts for the community so they all take turns watching after and keeping the Light. They would appreciate it more and understand the gravity of the keeping, while deepening their loyalty. It may have the cost of occasional mistakes, with a force of Keepers that were relatively untrained and wouldn’t have the time to devote to fully learning the craft, but the advantages of having each individual involved may just outweigh the cost.”

“Roxanne, you may have stumbled upon the greatest revolution since the inception of the Lighthouse itself. Well done.”

*

Thaddeus sat, constrained in his cell. The world was dark and he was alone. Bartholomew had likely escaped, but the raids may have been the end of him. The Light Police had made no large movements since their initial raid to save the imprisoned Keepers, which slightly concerned Thaddeus as he felt that the need for action was imminent, that to stop The Glare they should act while Tiesa was still adjusting to the change, before the newness had worn off and the allegiance was fully with The Glare. It seemed unlikely to happen at this point, with constant skirmishes among the people and The Glare bringing in anyone that seemed slightly suspicious, hoping to catch all of the Keepers and the Light Police, but not having any idea where to start.

Beyond the plight of Tiesa the work of Roxanne with The Glare brought great pain to Thaddeus. Surely, she could see the evil that was happening? The darkness that enveloped the work of the Glare, the Shadow that attached itself to every aspect of their work, their quest to equally distribute the Light? The Light would never be able to be equally used. Too many people simply were not prepared, not ready for the responsibility that accompanied the Light out of necessity. Hence the creation of the Keepers. If you eradicated them and gave everyone Light crystals to be in charge of, the results would be disastrous, people using the Light to blind neighbors and enemies, with no thought of the consequences. Terrible things would happen. The Light would be misused and no one could recognize the greatness within it. If only Roxanne could see that and join with the Lighthouse, the remnants anyway. Help restore what was taken from Tiesa. That was the only way things could be healed. She could provide the bridge. A bridge that the Glare would have her burn and leave the other side stranded forever, but only after they had pushed as many as they could find into the depths of the Schism, to be lost forever.

Thaddeus continued his musings, while The Glare himself came to visit.

The door opened and The Glare entered; the anger trailing behind him.

“Thaddeus, where are they?”

“I’ve told you, I do not know. However, if I did possess such knowledge, Patrick, the last person I would reveal it to would be you. I cannot support the destruction and hatred that comes at your hand. There is no hope for redemption and justice, when anger and vendettas form the basis for the rule of law, if I can even call the dictates that come from your mouth ‘law’.”

“Oh, Thaddeus, ever self-righteous. You always did hold yourself above the rest of the Keepers didn’t you? You never subscribed to the philosophy of Bartholomew or Fairfax, but opted for a ‘higher’ path. One that only worked in the ideal, fantasy world that you created in your mind. You never had the courage to take a stand when it mattered. You have a great mind and power of speech, Thaddeus. Those could have been used for the good of the Light, not squandered hoping to change the Lighthouse from the inside. The only change that could occur would come from complete destruction and rebuilding. Like a phoenix, the Lighthouse needed to burn to ashes before it could rise again, reborn. We burned it down and all you could ever do was talk of the danger of the flames, afraid of what would come out of them.”

“Oh, Patrick. Your anger blinds you. I want what’s best for Tiesa. I want both sides to be heard, but not like this. You can’t build on corpses. Eventually the foundation will decay and everything will collapse. Or the skeletons hiding in the past will emerge and be used against you.”

“Ha. Again, putting yourself above me. Using metaphors and figures of speech that say everything, yet nothing at all. How clever. Fools marvel at your intellect and any that question are thought to be blind to the greater truth hidden within, while I am not afraid to state the truth, that there is no truth within. Your words are but the cheap attempt to disguise your utter helplessness. Thaddeus, you could have done great things. You could have been a builder, bringing the Light to all of Tiesa, casting out Shadow, but you will instead die, alone, unwilling to help bring the Light to all. Tragic, really.”

The Glare drew his Light pistol and brought it level with Thaddeus’ skull, prepared to destroy the life that Thaddeus had left.

Thaddeus turned to him, with sorrow in his eyes.

“Your Light will not grow brighter once mine is gone. You have fallen someplace deep and dark, but you can leave. You can escape and do something different. Love can reach to the deepest, darkest crevices, where even the Light doesn’t shine.”

The Glare curled his lip in a half-bemused look and gave a half laugh, half cough before pulling the trigger.

BANG!

Thaddeus toppled to the ground, lifeless.

The Glare turned, motioning for the guards to come and remove the body, noticing that he was not alone in the cell. A panicked look spread over his face as he realized that he could no longer hide what he had actually been doing. All was revealed, at the likely cost of a dear friend and ally.

Roxanne rushed past him to kneel at Thaddeus’ dead side, cradling his head in her arms, sobbing, but without tears.

“How could you? You spoke of hearing all voices, promoting a diversity of thought, and bringing all people together in harmony, bridging the Schism once and for all. Then you blow those words and that dream to pieces. It lays shattered here, in splinters, like the broken man that you killed in cold blood, while he was utterly defenseless.”

“Roxanne, I…there was no other way…I needed to bring peace to Tiesa and as long as the Lighthouse and the Keepers lingered, there was a threat that the work I did would be destroyed and overturned. I had no choice.” The words sounded empty coming from his mouth, he moved his lips to create them, but there was no power behind it, he realized the truth of Roxanne’s words, but was unable to admit to the fact. He couldn’t let go of everything he’d done.

“There is always a choice.”

Patrick turned away, with nothing to say. As he reached the doorway, his head hung down, arm raised, hand closed on the doorframe, he turned his head and looked back at Roxanne and Thaddeus opening his mouth to say something, and struggling to force the words out, unsure what he could say to be of worth. Finally, they came, “I’m sorry.” Barely audible, but there, they hung in the air, as he turned away again and walked out, changed.

Roxanne heard the words, but knew he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done, but sorry for what would happen next. He knew that she could never stay. Not after that. He was sorry that he had driven her and her skeptic genius away. As was she. They had grown close again, closer than before, even with their differences, but she now saw that The Glare would forever be rooted in violence and cruelty, feeding on fear. She could not support that and would flee then, without further ado. She made sure that Thaddeus’ eyes were open, able to see the Light, the traditional burial rite of a Keeper, before pulling her cloak tightly about her and leaving the tower and a friend behind her.