2.6 KiB
THIRD PARABLE: Only give yourself up if it guarantees victory.
Lights up, but dim--we're underground, now, or something close enough to it. Center stage, a stump, waist-height, of something that might have been a calcified tree--or a huge spine.
Through the audience, THE NAVIGATOR enters, guided by a witchlight over his shoulder, folding his map as he does so. His feet crunch on the bones beneath his boots, and the whistle of the wind sounds, faintly, like music.
*NAVIGATOR, stopping before the stump, back to the audience:* We're here.
BEAT. The witchlight's hue swirls. NAVIGATOR sets down his pack, and stares at the stump for another moment, in silence except the music. He begins to circle it, slowly, til he faces the audience from the other side.
*NAVIGATOR:* When I was a child, they sought to teach me obedience. I was a wild little thing, of course, it didn't take no matter what they tried. Even when they sought to beat me into shape, they simply taught me not to let them catch me.
Never be where the crushing force is. That's true, yes. But sometimes the only way to win is to face it. Sometimes, the only win to gain everything is to lose it all first.
He draws his belt knife. Broad, hands-length, razor-sharp, double-edged and single-pointed, there is no doubt as to what is about to happen. NAVIGATOR centers it on his chest, moves it slightly to position directly over his heart.
*NAVIGATOR:* I make this sacrifice for something more, for something beyond what I am now. I give myself freely, and, in doing so--I win.
He plunges the blade into his chest, and falls forwards, dying before he hits the stump. Blood pools out, covering the top face, seeping down into the grooves of the material, making an elaborate rune clear.
Long beat. Lights down.