It's more than not doing anything of consequences. I was... asleep. A log in the currents, Anatole called it. He woke me. He - [ The memory is so wildly vivid, it takes over him completely when it comes. He's silent for a little while as he fights his way back to the surface over it.]
He thought I was chosen, [he mutters at last. Now he knows Anatole was right, though he doesn't know if his friend, his first teacher had ever truly known the meaning of it, had ever foreseen what would come of the two of them. But perhaps, knowing Anatole. Perhaps that was his ultimate comfort.]
Once they told me that I was damned, so I set out to prove damnation wasn't real. Then I learned I was wrong, and I thought my continued existence was damnation itself. Now... I wonder if all of it was only in me, in all along. Damnation, grace, meaning - if all of those were only names I've given to my own lack of understanding.
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He thought I was chosen, [he mutters at last. Now he knows Anatole was right, though he doesn't know if his friend, his first teacher had ever truly known the meaning of it, had ever foreseen what would come of the two of them. But perhaps, knowing Anatole. Perhaps that was his ultimate comfort.]
Once they told me that I was damned, so I set out to prove damnation wasn't real. Then I learned I was wrong, and I thought my continued existence was damnation itself. Now... I wonder if all of it was only in me, in all along. Damnation, grace, meaning - if all of those were only names I've given to my own lack of understanding.