Act V — First Fire

Page 40 — Close, Uaellaen

The episode ends the way it began: on the broken coast, in the wrong world, with the five of them and the one empty seat, and the patience of a man who has had practice.

I will tell you the ending, because the ending is the record, and the record is the one the story keeps. The episode began in the white, with the six of us small against it, and the small was the one the white did not let go of. It ends on the black sand, with the fire in the center, and the black was the one the coast did let go of, and the letting-go was the whole of the difference: the white was a light that looked, and the black was a ground that kept, and the keeping is the one the story has been keeping since the first page of it.

The fire is in the center. The walls are up. The lamp in the tower up the beach is dark, and the dark is the one the coast keeps. The lake is east, and the between is the one the ground gave us. The mark is in the rock at the water's edge — two lines, crossing, one circle, and in the circle the empty place — and the empty place is the one the world does not have, and the not-having is the whole of the guild. I have looked at the mark, and the looking is the one the record owes: the mark is the mark, the cutting is the cutting, and the cutting holds, and the holding is the one the world does not let go of.

The kept place is by the hearth, set a little back from the light.

I will keep the kept place in the record, because the record is owed the kept place: the seat is empty, and the empty is the one the kept place owes the guild. The guild has kept the seat since the fortieth day, and the keeping was the guild's part in the guild. The found will sit in the seat, and the sitting is the one the found owes the guild. The guild does not say which, and the not-saying is the one the guild owes the found. The guild does not say when, and the not-saying is the one the guild owes the waiting. The guild says only the sitting, and the sitting is the one the story keeps for the found, and the found is the one the story keeps for the guild, and the guild is the one the story keeps for the camp, and the camp is the one the story keeps for the world, and the world is the one the story keeps for the kept place, and the five keepings are the whole of the page.

I have been in this universe for a while now. I still do not know its name. I do not think that is an accident.

I will keep the not-knowing in the record, because the record is owed the not-knowing: the archmage of the old world knew the name of the old world, and the knowing was the archmage's part in the old world. The archmage of the new world does not know the name of the new world, and the not-knowing is the one the new world owes the archmage. I have stood at the thin place, and the thin place did not answer, and the not-answering was the one the thin place owed the archmage. I have read the lake, and the lake said the sleep, and the sleep was the one the water owed the archmage. I have read the dark, and the dark did not answer, and the not-answering was the one the dark owed the archmage. The universe has not given me its name, and the not-giving is the one the universe owes the archmage, and the archmage owes the not-giving to the story, and the story owes the not-giving to the kept place, and the kept place owes the not-giving to the one who is not here, and the four not-givings are the whole of the not-knowing.

I think this universe is waiting for me to ask the right question.

I will keep the waiting in the record, because the record is owed the waiting: the universe is not a god, and the not-god is the one the universe owes the archmage. The gods are here, and the gods are not answering, and the not-answering was the whole of the thirteenth day, and the gods owed the camp the hall of seals. But the universe is not a god, and the universe does not owe the archmage the answering, and the not-owing is the one the universe keeps for the archmage. The universe waits the way the universe waits — without looking up, and the without-looking-up is the one the universe owes the archmage. The archmage waits the way the archmage waits — at the fire, and the at-the-fire is the one the archmage owes the camp. The two waitings are the whole of the episode, and the waiting is the one the archmage owes the fire.

I have not found it yet. I am patient. I have had practice.

I will keep the patience in the record, because the record is owed the patience: the patience is the one the archmage owes the episode. The archmage has had practice since the old world, and the practice was the old world's part in the archmage. The archmage of the old world was patient at the hall of seals, and the patience was the one the archmage owed the gods, and the gods owed the patience to the archmage, and the archmage owed the patience to the old world, and the old world owed the patience to the camp, and the camp owed the patience to the episode, and the four owedings were the whole of the practice. The archmage of the new world is patient at the fire, and the patience is the one the archmage owes the guild. The guild is patient at the kept place, and the patience is the one the guild owes the found. The found is patient at the not-deciding, and the patience is the one the found owes the universe, and the universe owes the patience to the story, and the story owes the patience to the reader, and the four patiences are the whole of the episode's part in the story.

Close, Uaellaen.

I will keep the close in the record, because the record is owed the close: the episode ends the way it began, and the way was the one the story owed the episode. It began in the white, and the white was the one the Threshold did to the six, and the six owed the white to the camp, and the camp owed the white to the guild. It ends on the black sand, and the black was the one the coast did let go of, and the letting-go was the whole of the difference. The five of them are at the fire, and the at-the-fire is the one the guild owes the fire. The one empty seat is by the hearth, back from the light, and the back-from-the-light is the one the guild owes the found. The found will sit in the seat, and the sitting is the found's part in the guild. And the guild will say the thing it has kept since the first night on the broken coast — the seat was yours, and the seat is yours, and the seat is the one the guild does not give the world. The episode ends with the fire in the center, and the burning is the one the fire owes the guild; the walls up, and the standing is the one the walls owe the camp; the lake east, and the to-the-east is the one the bones owe the lake; the mark in the rock, and the holding is the one the world does not let go of; and the kept place empty, and the empty is the one the kept place owes the found, and the found is the one the world has not decided about, and the not-deciding is the one the story keeps for the found, and the found is the one the story keeps for the guild, and the guild is the one the story keeps for the camp, and the camp is the one the story keeps for the world, and the world is the one the story keeps for the kept place, and the five keepings are the whole of the close, and the close is the end of the episode.

That is the episode. The record is what I have kept since the first page of it, and this page is the last of the episode's part in the record. The next page is what the story owes the guild, and the guild owes it to the found, and the found owes it to the world, and the world owes it to the kept place, and the kept place owes it to the one who is not here. The first page was the white, and the white is what the Threshold did to the six. The keeping is the whole of the episode, and the episode is what the story has kept since the first page of it.