DUALITY: The World of Lies

by Paul Barufaldi

  He knew that there was a Forbidden Land in the eastern world called Arath. On the surface, that didn’t seem like much, but it actually told him an awful lot. This first obtained piece of Forbidden Knowledge was precious to him, more precious than a king’s emerald or the tooth of a dragon. First, by obtaining just a wisp of Forbidden Knowledge, he had gained a frame of reference. If a simple piece of geographic information can be considered Forbidden Knowledge, then perhaps it was not all as mystical as some imagined. Perhaps it paralleled common knowledge. It dealt with things foreign, as he’d always suspected. If the knowledge of a foreign country’s existence is forbidden, then perhaps it’s safe to assume what he considered to be Forbidden Knowledge was to the people of that realm simply common knowledge. Could it be possible too that the common knowledge of his realm was forbidden in theirs? But, again, why! Is The Order doing this to preserve our culture from the domination of another? And if knowledge of another culture’s ways would tend to dominate their culture, perhaps their ways were better? At the very least, they ought to explain to everyone how it is possible that a society could benefit from intellectual repression.

  Night fell.

  The clacking of the lock almost made him stir, and his heart began racing even as he begged it to be still. They did not speak as they entered and their footsteps were light. He prayed to Fo and Dao that they not see or hear him. Then the first voice emerged, and to Gahre’s delight, they were speaking Occitanian.

  “Brother Botha, it’s odd. I don’t remember locking that door when we left. I fear my age may be catching up with my senses.”

  “Elder Panthus, do not flog yourself over such a minor slip of the mind. Why, I am but half your age, and just two years ago I returned to Cashilam to take my leave –only to find I’d forgotten that my wife and child had relocated to Babashire.”

  “Oh, dear Brother Botha, that is a terrible tale!”

  Botha laughed mischievously.

  “Brother Indulu, Venerable Elder Panthus, Brother Risso, yours is among the loveliest villages in all the Pangea. The people of Tulan have joyous spirits. As I walked among them this day, my heart was lightened, and my resolve in our works strengthened.”

  “There can be no higher complement then when a man of Cape Cathal praises the beauty of one’s village, Brother Botha,” spoke Indulu. “I insist that you allow me to fill your cup.”

  “The penultimate host, as always, Brother Indulu. But I am disappointed in one respect, that the son of Brother Danu so much spoken of late was not in the village today. I dearly wanted lay eyes on him, just to see if I get a glimpse of what you see in him.”

  “Truly, Gahre spends little time in the village these days, Brother Botha. I fear it’s too confining for a young man of his… nature. But… we will speak of him later.”

  Gahre couldn’t believe they were talking about him at all! Wasn’t he a trivial subject when placed next the care of the world?

  “As you wish, brother. It seems Monloch was right on schedule. The biscuit is gone!”

  Gahre nearly gasped. He really, really had not expected anyone to notice the missing biscuit.

  “Yes, Brother Botha, thank you for feeding him today.”

  “Comrades, you have baffled me. Who is this Monloch?” came a new voice.

  Again Indulu responded, “Oh Brother Sanguji, had no one told you that we have a rat in this place we’ve bid you sleep? That’s the kind of hosts we are in Tulan.” A round of mild, pleasant laughter followed.

  “I look forward to meeting this Monloch, Brother Indulu, pray though not in my sleep!”

  More laughter ensued.

  “For the time being, Brother Sanguji, you needn’t fear. Monloch is a simple creature. His temperament strictly follows his belly, which is now satiated with wheatcake. No doubt he’s curled up somewhere in the rafters, bloated and sleeping. But for future reference, do beware, as he is a possessive fellow, and hunger brings out his more aggressive qualities.”

  As if on cue, Gahre saw a pair of shining, beady eyes appear on the far end of the beam, glaring directly toward him. Moloch, he could see at once, was a stout and clever brown rat.

  “Then he shall dine on my cheese rations tomorrow, Brother Indulu! Let me honor you by making yours the fattest rat in all the realms. And do take heed, for when I’m finished, you may mistake him for a hedgehog!”

  Gahre glared back at Monloch. Return to your lair!

  “Please, dear brothers, be seated,” announced Indulu.

  Moloch took a step forward. You should not be here!

  “Oh, do allow me to clean this table first,” insisted Brother Risso. “It is covered in dust. Monloch must have been scurrying about in the rafters again.”

  Gahre felt a bead of sweat flow over his forehead. Do you think you frighten me?! I’ve dispensed with many of your kind!

  “No matter, Brother Risso. Let us proceed, for there are many issues to address.”

  Monloch turned sideways into his most aggressive posture, dragging his tail slowly around in front of him. You stole my food!

  The discussion below quite unexpectedly switched languages. Indulu gave a long opening statement, but Gahre could make almost nothing out of it. That rat snarling at him made it even more difficult to concentrate.

  Go away rat, I warn you!

  He heard the word “Arath” in the very first sentence, and then repeated twice more later. He also heard a word very similar to “Rubeli”, which was the name of the largest and most unusual star in the sky. And he picked out a recurring syllable “dar”, which seemed to come in either the middle or the beginning of the last phrase in sentences, sometimes occurring twice. Judging by the way it was cast in the rhythm of the sentences, he guessed it was a preposition like “in” “at” or “on”.

  Moloch began to slink towards him with a vicious glimmer in his eye. I will bite you!

  Next, Elder Panthus spoke. It was very brief and sounded like a question. In it, Gahre clearly made out “Dhrussius,” a name he recognized. Dhrussius was a senior member of The Order who had visited Tulan for this very spring conference two years ago.

  Gahre placed his middle finger behind his thumb, holding his hand forward. If you come near me, I will flick you in the nose!

  Brother Botha responded. In it, Gahre heard the Occitanian word “Oberion”, which referred to that old red bloodmoon in the night sky. And the word “Oberion” had been preceded by “dar”. Yes! He’d heard the phrase “Dhrussius dar Oberion!”

  Monloch was now just inches from his outstretched hand, slightly beyond his reach. Gahre flicked at him as a warning of what would happen should he come any closer. But just as the action ended, Monloch used the opportunity to leap forward and sink his long, sharp rat teeth into Gahre’s middle finger. The pain was shocking and excruciating. And a rat does not simply bite and withdraw; it keeps its long teeth buried in the flesh and gnaws rapidly.

  Gahre bit his lip to keep from hollering out as his flesh was being mangled! He shook his hand wildly, but Monloch would not release his finger. He grabbed Moloch with his free hand and tried to pull him off, but Monloch responded by clamping his teeth deeply into to Gahre’s finger-bone.

  And that was when Gahre fell from the rafters.

  He crashed onto the very center along the conference table, which split in two. It was quite a shock to his back, and the rear section of the table thumped him hard enough on the head to daze him. He was clutching his bloody hand, and there was a squealing sound as Monloch fled the scene.

  The men about the table stood up in shocked disbelief. Indulu, however, rose naturally.

  “It seems we had more than one rat in our rafters this night. Brother Botha, Brother Sanguji, I give you Gahre.”

  Gahre was more than a bit dazed, and his mind was still swimming. He began speaking, but his words flowed like the sound of babbling.

  “Dhrussius dar Oberion… Elder Dhrussius is on Oberion! That means people live on the moon!!! How wondrous!!! Ho
w do you get them there? A kind of… flying ship? Why do we not see their fires? Have they no forests, no water? Why only stony red like granite, no green, no blue?”

  Brother Sanguji shook his head in dismay, and pulled the young man to his feet. Gahre was still reeling. “You are injured, young one!”

  “That is the least of his problems now,” spoke Indulu gravely. “Gahre… Gahre!”

  Gahre snapped to a bit. “Yes, Honored One. I am sorry, but….”

  “You are bleeding!”

  “Yes, your rat attacked me… you see I… I… I just can’t believe it! It’s so marvelous!”

  “Silence, foolish one! Have you any idea how serious this is? Go into the washroom, close the door, and dress your wound with the bandages in the cabinet. Then you can wait there while we discuss your fate.”

  “Yes, Honored One.”

  Gahre did as he’d been bidden and staggered into the washroom, cutting through the air of solemn disapproval that filled the lodge. Once in he approached the sink and set down his candle, he became aware of the throbbing pain in his finger. He realized he had been dripping blood all the way in here. The wound was deep and open enough to see the white of bone. With his left hand, he flipped open the cupboard and snatched a roll of bandages. He quickly unraveled a section and wrapped it tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding. Gahre had a high pain threshold, but he would clearly need a doctor at some point.

  The washroom door was solid and he could hear little beyond it. He crouched down on the floor, dizzily, and resumed his ponderings.

  An hour later a knock came. The Elder Panthus entered with a mug of water and plate of cheese and bread which he set down before Gahre. At the age of 144, Elder Panthus was long retired, and it had been he who monitored Gahre all these years in Tulan at the behest of Indulu. He was the only elder Gahre ever felt he had gotten to know well, though they had never shared any great fondness for one another.

  “You’ve gotten yourself into a pickle this time, boy.”

  “I realize that, Venerable Elder.”

  “You never should have done such a thing!”

  “I suppose The Order will never take me now.”

  “Boy, The Order never was going to take you anyway.”

  That statement hit Gahre like a sack of stones over the head, and his eyes burned. He slugged down a gulp of water and displayed an angry frown.

  “Gahre, my boy, you are brash and willful. We could never use you. And your marks in school are none too impressive. You failed history of all things.”

  Gahre tried to remember who he was talking to, tried to keep the respect in his voice and not shout at the old man. “Venerable Elder, I stopped reading my history book halfway through the course because I sensed it was filled with lies. Go ahead, tell me it isn’t and make a liar out of yourself. Tell me I might not just as well have taken out a fairy-tale from the library!”

  The old man fumed, and spent a few moments in frustrated silence.

  “Oh, you’d best watch your words, boy. This is far more serious than your previous clashes with authority. Indulu and I are the only friends you’ve got here tonight. He’s out there negotiating on your behalf as we speak. You do not even want to know what the others propose we do with you.”

  “Do as you will, Venerable Elder. I do not fear any of you. If The Order rejects me, I will reject it and go about gathering as much Forbidden Knowledge as I please. I am quite capable of traveling on my own –through any terrain. To stop me, you would have to kill me or imprison me. And I already know you will do neither of those things!”

  “Then we will exile you –to an island!”

  Gahre raised his head to the old man and nearly shouted in his defiance. “I will build a boat!”

  Elder Panthus took his leave, gruffly. “You are sealing your fate, boy.”

  “And after that, I’ll build an airship and sail it to Oberion!” shouted Gahre loud enough for all to hear as the door latched shut again.

  More time passed. He could not move his sore and burning finger. Although he was hungry, he ate only half the platter. He definitely should not have lost his temper with old Panthus, he realized upon reflection. He was only telling him the truth about The Order not calling upon him, and he should appreciate that in a world where, apparently, the real truth about things was next to impossible to come by. It was increasingly obvious to him that world was filled with a kind of “fake truth” –and that was not acceptable to his heart. The truth, pure and unadulterated: one way or the other, he vowed he would come to know it.

  And it was truth he contemplated as more and more the night passed by. And in its darkest hour, Indulu came to him.

  “I am glad to see you calm. Come, my son.”

  Gahre carried his platter out into the main area of the lodge. They had moved their chairs into a circle about the kitchen since they no longer had a table to sit at. They barely looked upon him as he emerged.

  “Venerable Elder Panthus,” Gahre bowed his head as he made the address, “I apologize for the tone I took with you earlier. May you sleep well this night, and know you will always have my sentiments. You are as a grandfather to every boy in Tulan.”

  “That is very decent of you, Gahre my boy. And I hold you in no account for the words of this evening. I sympathize with your conflict, bright one. May it find glorious resolution.”

  “Gahre, do you feel well enough to take a walk with me through the forest? Just you and me?” Indulu inquired.

  “I would like that very much, Honored One. But first, I wish to leave this platter for Monloch.”

  “For Monloch?”

  “Yes, Honored One. When I came in this afternoon, I ate his biscuit. That’s why he attacked me.”

  “Did he tell you that’s why he attacked you?”

  “Um…” Gahre found he couldn’t answer the question.

  Indulu smiled. “Very well, my son, place it there in the corner if you will.”

  “Could you summon him, Honored One? I want him to see me do it.”

  Indulu shook his head gracefully. “A debt repaid unseen clears the account of Heaven.”

  Gahre laid the platter and accompanied Indulu out of the lodge and into the Oak Grove. They strolled some time before speaking. When they crossed an old wooden bridge that led to the outer periphery of the grove, Gahre broke the silence.

  “Honored One…”

  “Gahre,” smiled Indulu, “Let us dispense with formal addresses. I wish us to speak as equals.”

  Gahre found that statement more than peculiar.

  “But, Honored One, we are not equals! You are man of high ranking in The Order, and I am but a young man with only one accomplishment of note to speak of.”

  “I think you accomplished something tonight, didn’t you?”

  “I broke the Law this night.”

  Indulu stopped and put his hands on Gahre’s shoulders. “This is not just a matter of worldly law, my son. It goes way beyond that. Though, let me begin by telling you your sentence: It has been decreed that you will live in the cabin north of the outer cornfields and do the work of the land for two full years. After that time, you may seek a wife and take a home in Tulan. Or, if you prefer, you may travel the Realms. But you will vow, on the spirit of your departed mother, not to disseminate the Forbidden Knowledge you have obtained.”

  “I will swear nothing on my mother’s spirit but my undying love of her. And you will never, never make a farmer out of me.”

  “I know that, my son. I know these things. I am just relaying to you what has been determined by the council. But I hope you will tell me, just me, what you truly intend to do.”

  “I have vowed, Honored One, to travel east to the Forbidden Land of Arath.”

  Indulu’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know of Arath? Who told you this?”

  “That is my secret, and I forbid you to know it.”

  “My son, I fought long and hard on your behalf tonight. They wanted to exile you. Please tr
ust me enough to tell me how you came to know this.”

  “Honored One, perhaps you can explain to me how it is The Order is able to travel upward to the moon of Oberion. I do have some sense of how high it is, far beyond the reach of any bird.”

  “Gahre, I should not give you any more Forbidden Knowledge… directly. But I will tell you something about our order –and your father. However, you must agree to tell me where you learned of Arath.”

  Gahre’s mind deliberated for a long moment. “Very well, Honored One, tell me of my father.”

  “You should know, young one, that The Order has two branches, foreign and domestic. Your father is of the former. His mission is diplomatic in nature, and he resides about the star Ignis Rubeli, so when you look to it, you may think of him. He is my dear friend, and he is a peacemaker. You can be very proud. The nature of his work does not allow him to return to this world, but he is updated of your progress, and follows it with great interest. His absence must feel like a coldness in your life, but please consider the circumstances he is faced with, and know that he loves you deeply.”

  Gahre digested this for some time, and held back the tears. People live on the star Rubeli as well?! That flaming ball of fire. Wasn’t it too hot? Oh Father, do take care there! Finally, he opened his mouth to fulfill his end of the agreement.

  “A holy man in the forest told me.”

  “A holy man in the forest told you of Arath’s existence?”

  “That’s correct. I met him four, well I suppose now, five days ago. But I urge you leave him be.”

  Indulu sighed deeply. “Why would you do that, Jokhon?” he muttered to himself.

  “Excuse me, Honored One, you know that man?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do Gahre. I know him well.”

  Gahre looked to Indulu and saw his eyes filled with compassion, “Did you…. did you know I was there in the rafters tonight?”

  “Yes, I sensed you there the moment I entered.”

  “And the others?”