I have returned to the fore; again do I find a presence among those who I knew. For so long I was absent; for so long I was lost. Where did I go? I do not know.
I was lost somewhere, but now, I have returned. They did not expect me to return, and now that I have. I am not sure what role I have, what hope I have, what projects and ends may I pursue. I have a new name now; my name is Sinistre*.
Sinistre is not yet in the wake; during his dormant period, his difficulties, his personal challenge, I perdure. Is my return related to his calamity? I am not entirely sure. It was suggested that it was his lonliness that has started his dormancy. Here I roam, in these corridors, wiating for his return, these empty rooms, study spaces, and halls.
As I explore these dusty towers, I try to remember what this place is. Where am I? Is this a place of the past? Is this somewhere I know? Is this my home?
Eventually, I feel an instinct, an inclination to go unto the highest floor and onto the room with the most spectacular view of the outside. One feature of this domain is that we are surrounded in this concrete, that we cannot escape; we see windows of the outside world, but that is a realm to which we do not belong. I searched for the room with the most beautiful view of the outside real, and I came upon a study. Alas, I find another inhabitant of this place; he is seated, facing the dark windows; presumably knowing I have entered his quarter.
“Sinistre-Prime, I presume”, the voice said.
I walked in, silent, at first; I did not need to answer this person, I felt a slight sense of uncertainty as to whether I should answer. I walked closer to the seated figure.
“We need to talk, Magister”. The figure stood. His manner was as if frail and hollow chested; yet he looked like he possessed a real, or former glory, a hollow chest that was once full and courageous, much like Priam, the elder Trojan King. The figure turned to face me; his face shocked me.
“Why does everyone here call each other Magister? I have not earned that ranking like the others here have. I have only regained consciousness after years of absence”, I said. “Who exactly am I?”.
“You are the idea of a person”, the male figure walked towards me, his manner elegant, yet in some indiscernable way, brutish. “You were an idea of an archetype desired, your return signifies your instantiation”.
“What is your name?” I replied. “Are you also an idea?“. As I asked that, the figure stared at me, and then his head descended slightly, looking down, he let out a sigh; an acceptance, or an acknowledgement, an answer saying ‘yes’ to my question, and a feeling of regret. “We are of the same ilk, Sinistre”, the figure said, “It is appropriate that you call me Destre.” We are counterparts, two conflicting typifications, enemies, even.
“Odd, Destre”, I replied, “if we are enemies, why is it that we do not engage in adversity, or combat?”
“Good question”, Destre smiled, “The very fact that we speak to each other is the indication that there is something seriously wrong.” With that assertion, I started to understand Destre’s feeling of doubt. It is almost as if we are unwilling enemies, or, unwilling allies.
“You have returned to Sinistre’s life after you left him”. Destre returned to his seat, gesturing his hand towards another chair, suggesting that I join him. “You represent an ideal, that in some way became soured. Now that you have found instantiation again, you exist; our role, and our cooperation is crucial to the one to whom we cannot speak.
“Was it my fault that I left Sinistre?” I asked, not knowing the answer. “I wish I knew what really happened those years ago; what happened that changed everything? Everything has changed so much, I really cannot be the true Sinistre who existed before, or whose memories I have. I have an uncomfortable existence, because I was once dead.”
“Exactly”, Destre replies. “I thought that you were going to challenge me, and try to rule Areopagus”.
“No,” I smiled, “I think not to take over what you have here. My concerns are the following: I seek to understand why I was absent, I seek to vindicate Sinistre, and give him hope again in what happened. I seek to pursue my former goals, and most of all, I seek to challenge myself and push beyond the limits insofar as knowing what my limitations are. I feel free agian, I feel alive again-”
“-but only temporarily“, Destre replied. “I exist in tandem to you, I have to pick up the mess that you left behind. Fix what you had ruined with Sinistre and your cause. At first, I felt resentment, but now. I want to find resolve. What is your role? Why have you returned? What do you want from us? And furthermore, what is it that we do to co-exist in this domain?”
“It seems we are in some sense polar to each other, enemies of mortal proportion”, I said, somewhat fearfully. “I have no desire to fight against you, but you would probably say to that, that such a conflict is inevitable in the distant future.”
“That is correct. I am an old, frail man, and you are young, handsome, and busting with confidence and effort. I am the absence of what you fill. Yet also, you are the absence of what I am when I am emptied. We are the contradiction of left and right; we exist necessarily opposite, but coextensively relational. As calm men of words, we should keep in mind our greater purpose, we are not enemies, but we have to support the one whom we cannot name. He needs us right now, and we need to work together; eventually we may cease to exist, and he shall work on his own. Let us hope that day shall come…”