"Born without the gift of normality, not a
choice, not something to predict. Never knowing society's embrace, hardly remembering his mother's
face. Just a boy without grace. Was he unhappy? Or was he misplaced? But then he was touched
by the gift of the Void, never knowing it would leave him destroyed. Sacrificed his
only life, to willingly suffer the Void's knife. Weaker and weaker Rell became; A young
mind, a strange boy with a forgotten name. He wished the world would give him rest, but
his existence remained suppressed. The cold face of his memories shielded by glass; broken
and shattered, they began to crash. Rell soon met despair and desire, but was this his experience
to acquire? Rell learned that within the Void was flaw, beneath where no one ever saw. Rell
would never be back to himself, just a boy trapped in Hell. A secret, not meant to tell."
Songs of the Red Veil, Chapter 4, Verse 63. If you can hear me, you must know only one
thing. We failed. The Man in the Wall remains unpacified. Rell
was correct about its existence, but not about its magnitude. To attempt to repel or even
banish The Man in the Wall would be like trying to hold an ocean with a thimble. Utterly impossible,
but that is the essence of the Void. What is the Void? The emptiness of chaos manifested?
There can’t really be such a thing…How can there be nothing?
It’s impossible. You can’t blame me for having trouble wrapping
my head around an idea as complex and deeply infinite as the Void. From a young age, we’re
taught that everything, even empty space, is created from protons, neutrons, subatomic
particles… Empty space is always made from something
else. But not the Void. Some describe the Void not as a place, but
instead as spiritual enlightenment and/or liberation. As detachment from everything.
Some describe entering the Void as the moment one realizes that if you try too hard to understand
then you will miss the point; as the moment where man realizes that he will never be able
to anticipate his fate or future, so, man simply accepts his inability to challenge
the universe; as the understanding that holding on is suffering and letting go is freedom. There is no way to truly talk about the Void,
about emptiness, because there is nothing tangible to be expressed in words. And yet,
our curious minds are so fixated on using dialogue to try and articulate this commodity.
Words will always fail. Even if we could wrap our heads around this
idea of emptiness, this complete and total lack of anything; comfort, love, hate, despair,
joy, happiness, agony, all pieces of this complicated fabric known as existence, we
would descend into the deepest and darkest of melancholies. The sudden moment of realization
that non-being and being are one and the same and that the only thing separating the two
is the awareness of being aware and the unawareness of being unaware would be too much to endure.
The weight of realizing that nothing is everything, that we are nothing more than absolute zero
would prove to be the strongest link of all in these shackles of existence. What is the Void?
A gate into that which we don't know? Or a mirror, reflecting the bleak emptiness of
our mortal souls? Perhaps Rell understood this and so bound
himself to a never-ending battle within the Void against that which we do not understand,
sparing us from its wrath. The question never came to me until Rell appeared
one day within my dreams, whispering a single phrase over and over. "Help me."
Time is not on our side, but the others refuse to reveal the truth to outsiders for fear
of what may come next. They've sacrificed our own disciples in attempt to aid Rell in
his hour of need, and yet Rell's strength continues to dwindle.
For what reason do they choose to continue their unseen vigil? Pride? How pathetic.
Pride is crucial and necessary, but pride causes pain.
Pride is fear of losing one's edge and in turn losing potential for gain.
But do we really have an edge, or just a lackluster illusion?
What feeling keeps us inside this self-sustaining delusion?
Sometimes I wonder if just for a day, I took all my pride and threw it away? If I said
all the words I've ever thought to say, would my demons go away?
If I stopped telling myself the world can't see me without a mask, would that create a
vision of openness, while leaving vulnerability all in the past?
I believe I'm strong, and strongly convicted to my honesty. I'd rather lie wholeheartedly,
than admit I feel weak; Because remember that word, that strange hovering
boulder; that tells you to take your welcoming heart, and make it turn colder.
But what can we say when pride keeps us safe? Really what can we do?
Whenever I've tried to push it aside, I've felt things that together feel unglued.
If the stakes don't matter, then pride's not a factor, we know what to bring. Yet we'll
sit where we are, afraid to move for anything worth anything. But one day, Rell will be completely broken;
mind and soul. When that day comes, nothing will be holding back The Man in the Wall anymore. And yet, I will not leave myself a victim
in the hands of that which we do not understand. If you can hear me, you must know only one
thing. We failed. Rell is weakening and The Man in the Wall
will come forth. I do not know what do to, and the others have
either been lost to the weathering of time, lost to the temptations of sin, or lost in
pursuit of solving that which is so utterly incomprehensible that merely attempting to
understand it is enough to shatter souls. If you can hear me, please. Help us.
