Reflection

I am not the reflective type. I was taught from a young age that life is better treated as a task: there is work to be done, so do it and do not complain. Thinking seemed like a luxury.

I still follow that creed, but I have, in my time, come to see the power of thought.

Thought has lifted me out of despairing poverty. Thought has given my village the strength to survive the harsher seasons. Thought has seen my people raise their voices in hope for the first time in years. I am speaking, of course, of him. My friend and companion, Jonas Falx.

Our task here will be done in some few weeks. I wish to make record of the events that have transpired until this point. I do not know if any will live to read this, but I cannot leave it be. A madness compels me to write, though I am no learned master.

This task would be better set for Jonas, but he is in no condition to complete it.

I digress. Allow me to start from the beginning, and forgive me my shortcomings.

I stole into the Falx estate once, as a young man. I had intended to bring home a few pounds of our wheat and perhaps a handful of coins. I dared not take too much. The old Lord Falx mostly ignored our village in the shadow of his fiefdom, but he was harsh, stringent man who would not suffer the insult of a robbery. Nevertheless, I intended to rob him.

It was here in the shade of night that I came upon him: The lord's son, Jonas, stumbling in the dark towards the library. In truth, I presumed myself dead when he discovered me. No harm came to me, however.

The boy was also seeking to avoid his father's cruelty, and in me he saw an ally. I knew the forests and paths around this land, as well as the quiet places. In time, I would show them to him. My trespassing onto the estate became a common occurrence. I would teach him about the land and the yeoman's life, and in return he offered me lessons in writing, art, and the natural philosophies.

This arrangement continued in secrecy until the day the old Falx died and I was able to walk through the front door as an honored guest. In the same manner, Jonas was welcomed and honored when he came to my village.

We were fast friends. Brothers. We were prepared for the coming storm.

Together, we rode for the university. Jonas, up to this point, had been the subject of much talk throughout high society. Those who had met him regarded him as something of a prodigy. A scientific genius. Coupled with his newly inherited lordship, he was expected to do great things. He enrolled at Caydehill to fulfill that potential. Seeking to make my own impact on this country, I accompanied him as a valet.

Jonas made great progress here. In a scant few years he was held in high prestige amongst the peerage and consulted for many natural and philosophical concerns. He found in himself a great propensity for invention, producing many valuable tools to ease the toils of the common folk. For this, I was very grateful.

For my own part, I had failed in irritable fashion to ignite any kind of social upheaval. The nobles of the university would pay me no mind, short of glares and outright threats. The workmen, drivers, and cooks treated my words as a fearful poison. Only Jonas would ever listen to my hopes for a peaceful, equitable world free of the chains of serfdom. At times, I suspected he simply humored me, but now I know better.

It was at this point, some years later, that a change occurred. Although he never deigned to speak of it, I believe Jonas had some kind of breakthrough. His inventions grew equally more wondrous and monstrous. The eidolons, the locusts, the things without which our endeavor would fail: these he created and shared freely with the world. The people, both common and titled, began to see him as a shining light here to guide them to a new era. In truth, perhaps that would have come to pass were it not for the great adversity we were soon confronted with.

Soon, the country would begin to understand its own fragility. Each day there were new reports. Refugees wandering from town to town. It felt as though we had all been sentenced to death. That helplessness returns to me still, when I close my eyes. When the emperor sent out the call for assembly, Jonas was among those compelled to find a solution.

I was there when he was told the news. I remember finding it strange when for a moment his face ran pale and he seemed to shake with fright. But there was nothing strange about that, I see now. He locked himself in his laboratory and bade me not to disturb him. For months he continued this way, leaving only to eat and drink. His youthful looks quickly deteriorated and it seemed as though a great weight bore down on him. He emerged in time for the Diet, with a heavy, unwieldy pile of schematics.

The rest, I have lost the will to speak of. I only wish to say that my friend, my brother, has done the best he could, and that I am not without hope. Our time down in these dark caverns has not drained me of life; it has convinced me of it. I have seen my dream of a better world come true in these depths. I have seen noble and commoner work, sing, weep, and die side by side. I have seen horrors, but I have seen humanity face them with hard eyes and clenched fists. I have struggled alongside the fiercest stars of our ruined land: scholars, engineers, soldiers, hunters, merchants, even beggars. All who found the strength to resist our doom. My countrymen.

Our greatest endeavour will come to life soon. I only regret that I will not be able to see it done. I go now to meet my comrades already passed. May our work be not in vain.