Sahlo Folina

019 03MOON 13

I have tried to describe what Dema represented for me. I have taken hours to figure out how to phrase it correctly. It is difficult to lay down on paper what already feels so confusing inside. I thought writing would help me see clearer but it is like trying to talk in another language. I can see heartless images, but how to translate them into words?

And in the midst of it all I can't stop thinking I just haven't got the talent.

Moreover, how could I describe something as familiar and strange as Dema when there is so much I don't understand ? So much I hadn't even asked myself before ? I am so stuck in this eternal cycle that I never really tried to notice how things worked here, how Dema was ruled or who were the Bishops.

What really strikes me is that for all these years, I don't really interacted with the other inhabitants, not even the ones from Keon's department. We just wander around and exchange some meaningless words from one time to another. We can't talk more. We have nothing to say to each other and a resistance pushes us away. Like magnets with the same poles. Each one is his own emotions' and thought's only vessel, never to share them.

But then, there was this Tyler. Since I saw him out there, some kind of magnetism has enchanted me. Even in here, as he seemed weak and appalled, he did not ignore me like everyone does, he built a bridge between us, and it felt strangely good. Now he is gone, and everything is apparently back to normal. Except he has left a fluorescent footprint on my soul.

I couldn't stand the white silence of my questions anymore.

In some way, I had always felt a gentle trust for Keons. I could not talk of everything, but I wasn't so afraid of asking him about things. I activated my muscles, like an automat, and forced myself to his tower. We can always come and speak to him on Fridays. His tower is at the topmost east corner, and it reassured me not having to loom between those lugubrious metal wells that are always crowned with screeching vultures.

"Clancy, my boy, is everything alright?" he asked. He was draped, as always, with his long scarlet cloak but his face was gentle around his beaky nose.

"I would want to ask you something, sir."

"Ask away."

"Is it possible... I mean, has it ever happened that citizens changed departments, changed Bishops?"

He frowned, and I realized how clumsy it was.

"Is something -or someone- bothering you, Clancy? Is it me? Have I disappointed you in some way?"

"Oh, no, sir, I think you are the best Bishop I could ever have and you always have been kind to me. I would not want to change, I'm just asking, out of curiosity, if it has ever happened. As I could ask how we are departed between the bishops on the very beginning."

"In fact, most of the subjects start of in my department, except when they are personally chosen by the others. As for changes," he paused, "If some Subjects... misbehave, the United Vialists are reunited to judge their case. Sometimes, their Bishop is declared incompetent because the mischiefs happened under his guard. Or, he himself esteems he doesn't want the charge of the Subject anymore. Then, the United may assign them to another Bishop, yes. I recommend you prudence, Clancy.
Because you repented so honestly and followed me without hesitation, you have benefited from the United Vialist's grace after your little trip outside. We only strapped the FPE to your clothes. You realize now everything is done for your protection and I am satisfied of how you have retaken the rhythm of your life. However, if it should happen again, you must know my voice won't count for much between eight others, and the punishment of the council, if it is in your interest, won't rejoice you. I think this answers your question and I am happy to have been able to warn you. Go home, now, my son."

I had meditated his words in silence, a glacial dread scratching my soul. I am starting to feel that they let me escape on purpose, that they planned my absolute confusion, just to destroy forever my curiosity and imprison me more surely here. I don't know what I would have done if I had been deported to another department, one totally unknown and unfamiliar. The pressure of this sole idea is overwhelming.

Like every now and then, on my way back to my room, I sneaked a look in the room Tyler had deserted, not expecting to find anything else than the regular white walls filled with his -now familiar- absence. But there was something on the floor. Some kind of engine with sixteen white keys and black ones like rotten teeth on top. As I pressed a key, a synthetic sound flew out of it and shattered the silence in razor sharp pieces. I was filled with awe. I had never seen something like this. Making sure no one was in the hall, I picked it carefully up. There was no name on it, just a strange inscription on the back, two words: Sahlo Folina. I figured that someone has abandoned it. It looks like a kid toy, so I took it shamelessly into my room and hid it under the bed. I don't dare touch it much. I am scared someone could hear the notes, and I am not sure why I would feel so. But silence occupies such a great part of this home that I feel like sound could destroy it forever. And I can't afford losing the only familiar place I know of.