Brandon became aware again. It was pitch black this time around. The Priest's stored breaking the silence. He did not feel like moving, even being awake felt troublesome to Brandon. He felt a dull, distant pain inside his head.

The cool breeze on his skin. He focused on the latter and sat up. Groaning as aches appeared all over his pain. A flood of anger and resentment at his condition, at the stone beneath resentment, at himself. He wanted to go home. Back to being a proper child, to his soft maid and being attended to by servants. The bitterness of the situation sprang tears in his eyes and his face became red and his cheeks puffed. He had a good cry, in the dark.

He felt better after, not great or happy but relieved if only for that moment. That everything had not been okay and that was just fine. No pandering to adults or the pity of strangers. He felt a measure of peace with himself for a brief while that it was perhaps not his or anyone's fault and that sometimes in a big, confusing world it is okay to hurt.

He had not noticed the Priest had stopped storing. Pity. He felt angry again. They were looking down on him again.

“You are awake.” That was all Brandon said his face hidden by the dark tensing and eyes flaring as he spoke in an accusatory tone.

“Just now, I woke that is, just now.” The Priest replied, still waking clumsily.

“Of course.” Answered Brandon in such a way it was not clear he either believed or disbelieved the words spoken by the Priest.

There was silence as they at different paces got up.

“Can you start a fire?” asked Brandon.

“Yes, yes child.” He replied still unnerved and with a few strikes of flint and steel had lit another light. With more candle wax.

They had taken two steps when Brandon stopped and spoke.

“So, Priest. Did you go through an open cavern on your way here?”

“Do you mean if I could see the sky?” Brandon nodded. “No, only the light I have had is from candles for days now.”

Brandon fell silent. He moved quickly and the Priest only had time to stumble back before Brandon had squeezed the tiny flame from the candle.

The Priest splutters in surprise but the dryness of his throat left no spit to fly.

“You wished to know the way out? If I recall correctly.” Asked Brandon with a focus and direct tone common to the nobility.

“Child, this is no place for the children of...”

“I agree, walk without light. It is a trick, of some sort I know not how. In darkness and so long as you keep track of your turns, you will make it out.”

“Light, a trick? Explain child.”

“As I said.” He replied frustrated. “I cannot. I do not even have proof. All I know is a line. All fire return to the hearth. It was inscribed on the entrance.”

“Those strange symbols!”

“Runes, elvish but who carved it, I cannot even imagine. No dark elf would side with such destructive magic as the flame of... It would be suicide for them.”

“Child, do you speak true?” said the Priest as he clasped his arm.

“Remember to always go left first on the way back. If you do that and walk without light you will return to the surface” he replied.

“Come with me, Child.”

“There is no light. I do not know the route, it will not be the way you came not the way I did. But there are many ways in but only one way out. In the darkness, you will find it.”

“Why?” the Priest asked.

“I am able.”

“You are a child!”

“A child taught by elves in the way of magic. My carer since birth, and her daughter. Of life and death. I sought more. The dark Elves, priest, I have learned from them magic and more. Of light and dark. I sought to help them. To extinguish a flame that would kill them. I alone, my chance for glory. Now I seek only to do what I can. What will benefit? But I heard my doom, I faltered yes but if I stop, no onwards. One spell, if I am swift before...” Brandon rambles but the priest broke in.

“Such words, you are a brave child. Your determination dignifies you. Do not let the hubris that brought you here take you. You faltered, you saw evil! You saw that this is not the right way. You found the way out when I could not, now walk it with me. Come back to the light.”

“I will go on, I must go on. How many will die, before another race helps? One not bound to perish in the light of that cursed flame.”

“It is not your responsibility. Look out for yourself, not these others. You do not owe them your life. Fear death child, you will die unworthy of h... Dying for elves in a cave, pursuing dreams of glory.”

“If God is true, I can believe it no longer. I deny it, I must. With what I see and feel, with all these thoughts that spring out unbidden. The pain that won’t go away, those thoughts that come back no matter how much you wish them away. Oh, how nice it must be to believe, I see otherwise, I see the suffering that cannot be explained. It matters not, I care not, let silence reign. Cease the word, no more dialogue, the song goes unsung! Be quiet all the weight of all those wishes, all the pointless suffering, I can no longer bear it! We are godless, with no end to strive for, just the endless appetite of us foul creatures. Never to be satisfied, never!”

“You speak heresy!”

“Those who see in black and white drown in darkness. I know, I have breathed that blackness.”

“Enough!” he shouted by started coughing.

“I have known priests many such as you whose wise words become burdens from the deception. My voice may crack as a boy becoming a man but I have conversed with Weightlesses. They were priests too. Faria who’s perservaence and ability was peerless and Myriel whose integrity and boundless compassion saved many burdened. You are a deceiver. You forget the greatest moral act is to benefit others even if it cost our desires. You like me, act to benefit the self under the pretence of charity. I am young and thus privileged to see such a bright reality, time should I live will ease such weights."

"Even I can see why, talk you do, talk, talk talk. Silence ought to be your model. Listen to those that suffer. You may yet learn. How tired I am, such pain, I ramble to keep the Word. Ignore me, priest, you are right. I am beaten, my mind is broken, I bear rags. The Weight will crush me, but not yet. I rode off wise but deceived by experience, now I will walk a fool with a new lie but lighter than I was before.”

The Priest stood silent, eyes widened and mouth open. Brandon wasn't done.

“You acts are good, kind Priests. Your words fouled not with rudeness but... It comes from bad thoughts. I too have bad thoughts. The dark for ones of light such as I and the loneliness, how oppressive it causes such badness. Even in the light, with nobles over peasant, a man over women, dodly over the godless, elf over human, and those such as you the priests deceiving all to make them for your ends. Society is the carer and cage of all. It has no end and makes all as people make themselves. This is our second nature. Society is the great deceiver, our reality and of reality. But if it is deceiving how can light be good and darkness evil?”

“You lose sight of yourself, Child. The act of deception is but your denial of your pain. Why are you unhappy? Why do you think you must sacrifice yourself? What will glory relieve you of? Speak you are not alone, you do not have to bear the burden of your thoughts alone.”

This time, it was Brandon who was silent. Tears poured one at a time forced out and constrained by a last act of resistance. To retain control and to try and say to himself all is fine. He tried to answer but his throat only tightened. He sought water but there was none, or a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. He felt helpless.

The Priest handed over a piece of cloth to both without saying a word. Brandon wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

“What keeps you silent? You already know the answer.”

“My teacher, he died years ago. I have nothing to prove. It is something else.”

Brandon broke out into more sobbing.

“I don't know.”

“Let the world in, feel it sense it, all the things and words. Out of the darkness and into the light. Be aware of reality however distant. Become alive again go out of being the mind in of itself, feel your body, hear and see the everything around you.”

Brandon stared at him, with a stillness and silence that conveyed his bleak despair. That he had given up on himself. That his effort was a product of immense mental struggle. That even if he could agree he had no idea how to even grasp and do what was being asked of him. The mixture of relief from the compassion and the raw pain of having to face his trauma was overwhelming.

“What is traumatising you so?”

“I don't want to die.” He stopped. “He angered the wrong noble. Drunk they knocked him, not even intentionally a stumble and he flew and he was hit and... When I heard. I feel so helpless and weak. Not able to do anything.”

“It was sudden and criminal.”

“Yes, he was charged and everything, even if he was a noble. Hard labour in the mines for a year. A tough sentence but it shouldn't kill him, he can redeem himself for his...”

“You have done well, Child. It is good to talk, a massive achievement.”

“Foolish, forgiven mistake,” Brandon muttered almost voicelessly and the Priest did not pick up on it.

“Are you angry at this person?”

“Sometimes yes, now that it hurts, yes. Mostly no.”

“Was he a strong and stable presence in your life?”

“Yes, reliable. Always working on something every action helped someone, our loved ones in some way. I never knew, didn't notice till he was gone.”

“People heal differently. Loss hurts. Sorrow follows from pain. Hate from sorrow. Fear from hate. Most people by their loved ones are encouraged to face their fear, then we teach them to forgive they feel sad but it passes and so them the pain becomes bearable.”

“Forgive the fool I can do, forgive myself. To stop hating, the not feel the shame the badness every day. What a dream that would be.”

“It can be so with reason and compassion. Your loved one, would they not want you to love yourself?”

“I would give my happiness to see him again and well and happy. To return the past and make it present again. To spend another day, reading books under the shade of the oak tree from the sun or in the library with a cup of tea. What I would give and bargain for to have him back. To spare his partner the grief and all his students the hardship of working without his guidance.”

“Can you?”

“I... i don't know.” Brandon sobbed, the tears coming despite his resistance as sadness welled up and filled his being and eventually stopped. He felt different. Relaxed yet new thoughts flicker like the sparks of dancing flames into the awareness of his mind and a slight tension if the muscle reformed.

They stood in silence until Brandon tears ceased.

“Can you accept support to foster a compassionate view of your soul? To develop a realistic view of the soul through reason.” The Priest asked gently fixing eye contact with Brandon.

“If it helps, then yes.” He replied.

“Goodwill we start with meditation practice.”

“Okay.”

“Sit down, comfortably but with a straight back.” They both sat legs crossed back straight. “Breathe... Now we are going to not do anything. Non-striving. Focus on your breath.” They breathed for a while. “You can close your eyes to help you focus, to begin with,” Brandon closed his eyes and they breathed for a while longer. “You may have thoughts, this is natural. When you notice you have strayed from your breath pull back and focus back into your breath.” They continued to breathe.

“Run. Now!” screamed a shrill voice.