Reunited

XXIII.

“Roxanne, your concern is touching, but I think I can handle it. I overthrew Bartholomew and brought the Radiant Tower and all of its oppression tumbling to the ground. All by using Light. I think I know what I’m doing,” The Glare’s tone was a little condescending and mocking.

“You can’t ignore the lore and the past. It is clear that the Light must be followed, not controlled. Any that think they have the Light in control end up victims of the Light itself. The crystals may seem to obey and they will channel the Light at times, but really, the Light is the power and has a mind of its own. The Light is greater than anything that we can do.”

“Roxanne, the Light is meant for all to use for their own purposes. It does nothing in and of itself. That’s simply mythologized history. Don’t fall for that. I thought you would have moved past those childish things, accepting a truer vision of reality.”

“Patrick, why are you so skeptical of what seems odd or beyond the easily explained? There is truth and power in the myths and lore. Holding on to the traditions of the past is not childish, it grounds us, builds a common framework to work with. Everything is clearer when examined in the Light that it occurred. A grounding in the lore and myths, in our history, allows us to see the flaws and mistakes that led to disaster. We must know it to avoid the same mistakes ourselves.”

“Ha, Roxanne, you put too much faith in the work of others. Ego and weakness led to the downfall of them all. Historians may have colored the history with tales of the Light dictating the winners and losers of history. Flawed? Yes. But logic and reason supersede the claims of lore and myth, providing explanations without the holes and inconsistencies of myth. The weakness of others was not going far enough, not seeing their vision through to the end. I will not stop until those that hold the Light are pure and worthy of it, until all have joined with us or been destroyed. Those without the Light, will only rise up against us. We must take a preemptive strike to ensure the survival of The Glare and the Light kept in the hands of those that deserve it.”

“You can’t. Eliminating those that disagree with you poisons the public and leads to senseless killing. Not even your closest friends will be able to withstand the test of loyalty that will eventually be required. Bartholomew killed Fairfax- our father. He was going to kill me. What will stop you from the becoming the same blinded leader that Bartholomew became?”

“I’m already blind, Roxanne. Bartholomew saw to that years ago. Those that don’t make the cut will have proven disloyal and deserving of death. Roxanne, together we can save Tiesa and make sure that for centuries the Light is shared and possessed by the best. We can heal the Schism, once and for all.”

“I hope so, Patrick, I hope so.”

“Come, let us continue to save the Light, sharing it where it needs to be, giving the strong the Light to progress.”

“What happened to the League of Light? The Keepers have been captured or killed, the Lighthouse destroyed, but what of the League? Will they join with us? They may be able to provide valuable guidance that others would overlook, some key insight that may be of great benefit.”

The Glare laughed before responding, “The League has been with us the entire time. Let me show you something, follow me.”

The Glare beckoned for Roxanne to follow him as he departed from the office. She slowly and somewhat reluctantly followed him. Roxanne was curious, but also slightly worried for what The Glare was about to show her. She had thought that the League was separate, above the violence that had plagued the Lighthouse and The Glare, the medium that was the ideal solution. If The Glare and the League had been together the entire time, could she trust the knowledge that she had found while living with the League, or would she need to start over? No assumptions, questioning everything again. She worried that she would feel like a pawn, being manipulated, but hoped that the truth would enlighten her. She wanted to know, but was nervous that the truth would somehow disrupt what she believed and that she would need to reevaluate, a painful proposition, that some of the things that she held most dear would be lost forever, impossible to reclaim. What was he going to show her?

Her tension built as they walked through the halls of the tower, traveling to elsewhere, unbeknownst to Roxanne. They arrived at a door and The Glare opened it, motioning for Roxanne to enter. She stepped in and noticed that this must be The Glare’s private chambers, it was rather sparsely furnished, but there was a wardrobe in the corner and clear evidences of someone living there. Roxanne turned to The Glare, wanting to stop whatever he was about to show her.

“I don’t think I want to see this, Patrick.”

He bristled again when she used his name, but less so than he had previously, seeming to warm up to and accept that she would continue to call him, Patrick.

“Afraid of the truth? Come on,” He had a twinkle in his eye, for a split second, a bit of the light and humor that used to characterize him returning, as he cocked his head, gesturing to the wardrobe, as he walked toward it.

Roxanne had tried to respond to Patrick’s taunt, but had nothing to say, as he had voiced her deepest concern and worry, that she was beginning to fear the truth. She followed him, firmly believing that whatever he had to show her would reinforce what she had previously found out. She was simply expanding her understanding, while specifics may change, this would fit in to what she already knew. With those thoughts, she steeled herself as Patrick reached out and opened the doors of the wardrobe.

Roxanne stared into the wardrobe, not quite believing what she saw and immediately questioning the consequences and validity of what was shown her. She looked in as Patrick pulled out a cloak, with a big hood. The cloak had the emblem of the League on the right side. Patrick pulled it on and pulled the hood up, so that it cast almost the entirety of his face in shadow, confirming the suspicions of Roxanne, that he was indeed, the Ambassador. He had been leading the League and The Glare for who knows how long. Perhaps the connection between the ideas of the League and The Glare existed previously, with Patrick taking them to the extreme and prepping the League for the change over time before he began the violent crusade for the transformation of Tiesa and the splintering of the Light, spread amongst all people that proved worthy of receiving it.

“How?”

“Easy. As I left the Lighthouse, thought dead, I found shelter with the League, the last place anyone from the Lighthouse would be found. They couldn’t come near the League without fear of retribution and destruction. Where else in Tiesa could I be assured of such a wide berth from the Keepers and the Lighthouse as a whole? I studied and gained popularity.”

“Of course you did. You always were bright and had the ability to charm anyone. You were never guilty of anything, except in the eyes of Bartholomew, who always thought you were messing around too much, asking too many questions.”

Patrick gave a short laugh acknowledging with a sort of fondness the past that he and Roxanne shared, until she mentioned Bartholomew, at which point, he hardened noticeably.

“Bartholomew was blind to the truth and afraid of the answers to the questions that I asked. The League embraced questioning, encouraged it. I thrived, quickly winning them over, until they decided I should be appointed Ambassador, effectively hiding me right under the noses of everyone in Tiesa. The hood of the standard Ambassador uniform was perfect for masking the scar on my face and my blind eye, what otherwise could have served as a dead giveaway that I am who I am.”

“Did you know dad there? Did he know that it was you?”

“How could I fool Fairfax? He was shrewder than anyone I’d ever met. He saw instantly who I was and approached me, wanting me to help him bridge the gap between the Lighthouse and the League, repair the Schism, but I couldn’t. I didn’t and don’t believe that they could ever reconcile the differences that kept them apart. The Schism was inevitable and until one eradicated the other, it would be lurking underneath the surface, waiting to break and bring everything tumbling down.”

“But, why didn’t he ever mention you to me? Why didn’t I know that you were alive, until the message that you sent me in that bottle?”

“Wait, what message?”

“The night that Dad was executed, I got a message in a bottle from you. That’s why I was out wandering the streets that night. I thought you wanted me to meet you.”

Patrick chuckled to himself, “Oh, Fairfax, you sly fox. You brought us back together, hoping that we could do what you were stopped from doing. Clever. Roxanne, he did tell you. I never sent that message and thought you would flee the Lighthouse because they murdered our father in cold blood for exploring the past, seeking the truth and the Light.”   

“But, if I would have known, I would have left the Lighthouse earlier and joined you as a part of the League. I would have dropped everything to bring the three of us together again.”

“That’s exactly why he couldn’t tell you. He was probably worried that even mentioning it in the Lighthouse would let word get back to Bartholomew, so he figured the safest path would be to wait until he was dead and you would be volatile and ready to leave the Lighthouse, at the least open to the possibility that something was wrong and that you wouldn’t mention my return to anyone, with him gone.”

“Fair enough, I suppose, but I still think he could have found a way to tell me earlier. It’s been years, since you left and I thought you were dead forever. Lost, never to return. Not one word. My brother is alive, my father knows and he never told me. I just…oh, it’s not worth it. He did what he thought was best at the time for you and for me. He did help us reunite now, when we could have continued moving in our separate and potentially conflicting roles, going head to head for the future and life of Tiesa.”

“Roxanne, I wanted to start fresh. I wanted to find for myself what the truth was and I could not do that with any connection to the Lighthouse, whether literal or some metaphysical example that was seen as more than it was. Any perceived tether would damage my ability to learn in anonymous settings, giving me the cloak of recognition. I would have done more, but I did not want to endanger you.”

“Gotcha. It still hurst some, but that makes more sense than I want to admit. It was so much easier channeling anger, not wanting to really gain the facts because I knew that as soon as I learned more I would start to feel compassion and empathy, unwilling to forgive others. What role did dad play in the League when you become the Ambassador? I wasn’t able to read thoroughly what my father wrote, even while living at the League. I gathered a lot of information, but the nature of my dad’s years of record keeping, was frustrating. He wrote in code apparently frightened that his messages would be read by someone that had no write to his letters.”

“Roxanne, let us put the past behind us and push forward. The Glare will make things better, it may not seem as if it were impossible.”

Roxanne looked at Patrick, searching for some sign of what she should do and how much she should value his word. As she looked into his face there was the slightest sign that he wasn’t the completely hardened leader that he appeared to be. He wanted to change the world as always and had embraced the way that he thought was the best at the time, but seemed to be having some second thoughts. Wondering if what he wanted to do and what his actions were actually causing were the same. Had he committed his life to something only to have it blow up in his face and reverse what he had been fighting for? Was the equality that he strove for ever a possibility? How could he restore the city and her people to a state where all enjoyed the rays of the Light? Were the ideals of the League possible or were the an ideal that was nice to look at and talk about as a standard in some far off utopia, but never a possibility for a place like Tiesa, ravaged by an internal war?

 Roxanne saw glimpses of all that confusion and greyness and knew that her place was here with Patrick, regardless of the darkness he had accomplished. She knew him and would be able to soothe his soul, helping bring peace and hopefully a balance to Tiesa that was missing.

“What’s next?”

Patrick looked surprised at Roxanne’s agreement to stay and help, wanting to be a part of the change that was enveloping all of Tiesa.

“We need to equalize the Light, but in a way that boosts the feeling of all those that currently hold the Light. We may need to use some explosive techniques, the only way to truly know will be to force the Light to be spread.”

“Alright. I am willing to do whatever it takes for The Light, that is where my loyalty lies. I have no fake allegiance to an organization, but will do all in my power to make sure that  true happiness awaits. “

Greatness was in the room. The only question was how that greatness would be remembered- would it be true greatness that blessed the lives of others or would The Glare be known for doing terrible, yet great things? The answer would come with time. Time would tell whether The Glare was great or terrible and great.