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The Steel Orb
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A young man pulled me off to the side; I saw, on a cloth on the ground, what looked like several pieces of a puzzle. "And now," another man said, "you push the pellet in, and fit the pieces together." He moved his fingers deftly, and I could see what looked like an ordinary crossbow bolt.
"What is that?" I said.
"Let me show you," he said, handing me a cocked crossbow. "Do you see that bag of sand on the roof?"
"Yes."
"Shoot it."
I slowed down, took aim, waited for the target to come to the right place, then fired the crossbow. There was an explosion, and I felt something sting my face. When I realized what was happening, I could feel sand falling in my hair.
I looked at him, confused, and he said, "It's an explosive quarrel. The head contains a strong explosive."
"Why was the shaft made of puzzle pieces? I don't see what that added to the explosion."
He laughed. "The pieces fly out to the sides, instead of straight back at you. It's quite a powerful explosion--you might find it a safer way to kill a bear."
I made a face at him, but I was glowing. So these people knew already that I had killed the bear.
I spoke to one person, then another, then heard people clapping their hearts and calling out, "Speech! We want a speech from the bear-slayer!"
I stood, at a loss for words, then listened for the Wind blowing--but I heard only my name. I listened more, but heard nothing. Then I said, "I am Unspoken," and then the Wind blew through me.
"I am Unspoken," I continued, "and I love to peer into unspoken knowledge and make it known, give it form, or rather make its form concretely visible. Each concrete being, each person, each tree, each divine messenger, is the visible expression of an idea the Light holds in his heart, and which the Light wants to make more real. And his presence operates in us; he is making us more real, more like him, giving us a more concrete form. You know how a creator, making art or tool or book, listens to what a creation wants to see, wrestles with it and at the same time bows low before it, sees how to make it real; that is how the Light shines in us. And when we listen to the Unspoken and give it voice, we are doing what a craftsman does, what the Light does with us. How do we give voice to an unspoken idea, an unspoken expression? We can't completely do so; what we can say is always a small token of what we cannot say. But if the Wind is blowing through us, we may make things more visible." I continued at length, turning over in my spirit the ideas of tacit knowledge and invisible realities, visible, and the divine act of creation reproduced in miniature in us. I traced an outline, then explored one part in great detail, then tied things together. When my words ended, I realised that the Wind had been blowing through me, and I felt a pleasant exhaustion. The festivities continued until we greeted the dawn, and I slept through most of the next day.
All this excitement made my chores in the workshop an almost welcome relief. It began to wear thin, though, after perhaps the third or fourth consecutive day of dismantling tiny devices and then staring at tiny gear teeth to see if they were too worn to use. I began to grow tired of being called 'bear-slayer'--was there nothing else to know about me?--and there was an uneasy silence between Fortress and me about what I had done. He did not mention it; why not? I was afraid to ask.
I worked through each day, and had an hour to my own leisure after the songs at vespers. Mostly I walked around the city, exploring its twists and passageways. It was on one of these visits that I heard a whisper from the shadows, beckoning. It sounded familiar.
"Who is it?" I said.
The voice said, "You know me. Come closer."
I waited for the voice to speak. It, or rather she, was alluring.
I stepped forward, and sensed another body close to my own. A hand rested lightly on my shoulder.
"Meet me here tomorrow. But now, go home."
As I walked home, I realized whose voice it was, and why I didn't recognize it. It was someone memorable, but she had changed somehow, and something made me wary of the change. Yet I wondered. There was something alluring about her, and not just about her.
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The Steel Orb
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