Piece 1

Closing after him the door blocking his desk room from the house’s onlookers, he sighted in relief leaning on the wood. It was still early. No sounds made the boards and plasterworks vibrate in the house, his family certainly still being sound asleep. These few hourglass’ turns were for him.

There, he only heard the near ocean rumor, and the calls of some morning skells. He walked heavily to the reddening sunrise window, making his shoulders roll, stretching his stiff neck, still slowed down by the sleep. The pale moons still marked the sky, and the day star’s light printed on them pink and red shades, reflecting in the tides which throbbed slowly at the horizon. He savoured with delight this numb calm, always new to him.

He was still convinced that his remaining lifetime was not enough to accustom him to so much fullness. However, the silence offered him an undeniable comfort. He could concentrate and at last take some time for his projects, he who always gave to others and to Knowledge.

He had for so long listened to the sailors’ clamor at anytime of the day or night, the creaking of his ship under the swell, the calls of every creature crossed, the cries of the Oelynn’s winds or the Ulepal’s streams… All these sounds rythming his days have become so familiar, despite the anxiety they sometimes created, that he now often missed them. Each sound called a picture, sometimes a fragrance, and all the islands he approched aroused his senses in a unique way. To such a point that he could have mapped them from his own emotions.

All his life, he had travelled over the seas, searching for the meaning of it. His quest took, as time went by, all sort of forms : it could be a forgotten bandit’s treasure, science writings from a huge library, or the pleasure of a long trip without any precise goal, except the one to discover unexplored streams. With his commander, he even registered new islands on the Known Lands maps. His dream had long been to extend them, but his crew and him only succeeded to cover them with new imprecise spots. He finally realized he would let this noble work to others, who would one day perhaps manage to widen the very notion of space to the mappers, as these seas seemed to be limitless.

If almost eveything let him with no regrets and many good memories, something, yet, activated a striking twinge, which ran in his limbs like a shiver. He knew he had touched so big for him than he could not contain the entire thing. These secrets were too heavy. He could not load his family with them, frightened he would condemn them to a weight so huge that they would not have the weapons to defend themselves. The moral charge he was carrying terrified him each time entertainments could not help him to flee this thought. How could he be sure he would do good entrusting this knowledge to strangers ? Only a tightly bonded band, that he hoped without bad intentions, could comprehend the heart of the matter. To fight sufficiently long, to test their decision, to display intelligence, to prove enough wisdom to evaluate this discovery, and not using it for evil. He could only impose this hard test to those who would follow, but without any guarantee of a good ending. He was aware at the same time to gift as to curse the world with this present. As a quality or a wealth we have, those who would find it could use it for themselves or for the world, to make the best or commit the worst.

He knew he had done what’s best, or at least he finished to convince himself so. His travels showed him so many times that the Government was not reliable to receive this secret, nor all these monarchs, for whom the more or less visible power ambition seemed permanent on them to him. Only free minds like his, who would have paid the price of their efforts and of their sacrifice could understand, and deserved to understand. He sighted ; even if he would soon not be there to see that, he could not help himself to fear for the future, as Him must have prayed and feared in those forgotten times.

 

He stretched for a long time, perhaps thinking so he could hunt these fears from his old body, before going to sit at his desk, made from the workbench which travelled in cabin with him for so many cycles. He found his pages where he let them, copying tirelessly the same sheets. Everything would be finish soon. This time spent to complete his plan could at last find its meaning. He was happy he could manage this project to its end. It had become, like an obvious fact, his goal in life. The story of these things could not have an end, and his could only allow it to take a turning point. The direction of the turn worried him, but soon he could not do anything about it. Before taking more ink on his bolken stem to sign, he moved back slowly on his chair to read again his page. A satisfied grin appeared on his thin lips in front of this text he spent one entire cycle in order to make it sufficiently complex to take the opportunists away. In a certain way, his letters escaped his notice to become the new guardians of his secret.

All at his work, he had not heard the steps coming near the door, but its opening made him look up. His niece was in the doorway and look at him and the room surreptitiously, as she did not have the right to stay there. Touched by the four cycles old little léfenn, his smile bloomed under his greying beard.

 

« Come, come here, it’s ok you know. »

 

The big green eyes became brighter, and the child ran at his feet, laughing. He sat her on his knees, and made her jump on, imitating the swell and singing. The bursts of laughing of his niece made regret sparkle on his eye’s corners. So, in a breath, he whispered :

« Oh, my dear, my sweet Ada… What can I give to regain your innocence ? »