Part Seven

           Itisdarkhereintheforest.Theleavesrustleoverourhead,blackagainstthelastgoldofthesky.Themossissoftandwarm.Weshallsleeponthismossformanynights,tillthebeastsoftheforestcometotearourbody.Wehavenobednow,savethemoss,andnofuture,savethebeasts.

           Weareoldnow,yetwewereyoungthismorning,whenwecarriedourglassboxthroughthestreetsoftheCitytotheHomeoftheScholars.Nomenstoppedus,fortherewerenoneaboutfromthePalaceofCorrectiveDetention,andtheothersknewnothing.Nomenstoppedusatthegate.WewalkedthroughemptypassagesandintothegreathallwheretheWorldCouncilofScholarssatinsolemnmeeting.

           Wesawnothingasweentered,savetheskyinthegreatwindows,blueandglowing.ThenwesawtheScholarswhosataroundalongtable;theywereasshapelesscloudshuddledattheriseofthegreatsky.Thereweremenwhosefamousnamesweknew,andothersfromdistantlandswhosenameswehadnotheard.Wesawagreatpaintingonthewallovertheirheads,ofthetwentyillustriousmenwhohadinventedthecandle.

           AlltheheadsoftheCouncilturnedtousasweentered.Thesegreatandwiseoftheearthdidnotknowwhattothinkofus,andtheylookeduponuswithwonderandcuriosity,asifwewereamiracle.Itistruethatourtunicwastornandstainedwithbrownstainswhichhadbeenblood.