Role

Chapter 12

I'm not the oldest Villager, but I've been here the longest. Perhaps
Yrork has been here longer than me. I don't know and my memory grows
fuzzy. It's the work of that spider in there, I'm sure of it.

I fear for this Village. The young ones are naive and seem to not learn
from their mistakes. It is said among Arials that if you go cracking eggs
looking for gold you'll be forever disappointed. I'm not sure how that
relates, but I'm sure it does. I've see the lads do the same thing again
and again, expecting a different result each time. Are they forever
disappointed? Or am I?

The Commander has been burdened greatly by his ascention at such a young
age. Was it too much? I don't suppose we shall ever know, but at times
his zeal outweighs his wisdom. That much is for sure. I'd follow
Frosthammer to the depths of The Inferno or to the edges of Thera itself,
but I'd make certain to have a plan of escape. I'm not sure he considers
such things.

Perhaps he is emblematic of The Village, for there is no exit-strategy.
What shall we do if we seal up the veil and kill Twist? We haven't
thought about that. We certainly haven't thought about what we shall do
if we come close, so close, and realize it is impossible. What strategy
then? To go on railing fruitlessly forever? Forever?

I think it is possible to seal up that damned crack, but I accept the
possibility that it may be beyond the scope of our talents. Who is to
say, though. If it is sealed it will happen long after I have worn the
chains.

Perhaps all the years alone in the dark have given me too much time to
think. I'm no intellectual, but I suspect I've spent more time with my
thoughts than most of the hut-men. They have blood and beer. I look deep
into the past and far into the future. Have I become too maudlin in my
old age?

I love Allysia. That much is clear to me, even if not to her. In my
greatest enemy I have found my most kindred spirit and I suspect that she
spends as much time wondering if her goals are ever to be within reach as
I do. The Balance? A futile task if I've ever heard of one. To spend your
life running about trying to keep balls spinning upon sticks. Never
resting, always running.

It makes me consider my own task, which is more like pounding constantly
on a wall of iron with your only your fists. Futile? Perhaps I see that I
have made a dent. Perhaps I am as foolish as her. Pehaps that
is why I am drawn to her.

Perhaps it is not so odd, to love your enemy. Perhaps there are no others
who are so like ourselves.

Whine more, bird, and cry longer. The spider goads me into dwelling
instead of acting. At least I hope it is the spider.