The bell does not ring. It screams.

You are there. You are always there. The stone is cold against your palm. It has been cold for three days. The fire is out. The smoke is black. It curls into the rafters like a serpent. It eats the light. It eats the air. It eats you.

You hold the seal.

It is small. It is gold. It is heavy. It feels like a stone in your hand. It feels like a heart. It is the seal of the Keeper. It is the seal of the Law. It is the seal of your father. You have worn it since you were a boy. You have worn it through the mud. You have worn it through the rain. You have worn it through the blood.

Now you hold it in your bare hand.

The door bursts open.

Wind. Snow. Ice.

They come in.

Men. Many men. They are red-faced. They are loud. They are afraid. They carry torches. The torches are low. The flames flicker. They dance on the walls. They dance on the floor. They dance on your face.

One man steps forward. He is tall. He is broad. He wears a coat of brown wool. It is soaked. It drips. The water pools at his feet. He holds a staff. The staff is iron. It is bent. It is old.

It is Thomas.

Thomas looks at you. He does not speak. He looks at the seal in your hand. His eyes are wide. His eyes are wet. He blinks. The snow in his beard melts.

He steps closer.

The others step closer.

The room is small. The room is tight. You can smell them. You can smell the wet wool. You can smell the fear. You can smell the blood.

You do not move.

You do not breathe.

You hold the seal.

Thomas stops. He is one pace away. He looks up at you. You are on the steps. You are above him. You are the Keeper. He is the man. You are the Law. He is the dust.

He opens his mouth.

He closes it.

He looks at the seal again.

His hand trembles.

He reaches out.

He touches the seal.

The gold is warm.

He pulls it from your hand.

You do not stop him.

You let him take it.

He looks at you. He sees your eyes. He sees your face. He sees the truth.

He steps back.

He drops the seal.

It hits the stone. It makes a sound. It is a small sound. It is a clear sound. It rings. It rings and rings. It fills the room. It fills the air. It fills the sky.

Thomas falls to his knees.

He weeps.

The others weep.

The fire roars.

The smoke chokes.

You look down.

The seal is on the floor.

It is not gold.

It is iron.

It is rusted.

It is broken.

It has been broken for years.

You remember.

You remember the day you found it.

You were a boy. You were in the cellar. The air was thick. The air was sweet. You found the box. The box was locked. The key was in your father’s pocket. Your father was gone. Your father was dead. The town had buried him. The town had forgotten him.

You opened the box.

The seal was inside.

It was shining. It was bright. It was perfect.

You put it on your neck.

You felt the weight. You felt the power. You felt the pride.

You walked out of the cellar.

The sun was high. The sun was kind. The town was quiet. The town was waiting.

You became the Keeper.

You kept the seal.

You kept the Law.

You kept the peace.

You kept the silence.

You kept the lie.

The lie was your life.

The lie was your breath.

The lie was your blood.

You did not know it was a lie.

You did not know it was iron.

You did not know it was broken.

You only knew it was gold.

You only knew it was yours.

Now it is on the floor.

It is rust.

It is dust.

It is nothing.

Thomas looks at it.

He picks it up.

He holds it to the light.

He sees the crack.

He sees the rust.

He sees the truth.

He looks at you.

He does not shout.

He does not scream.

He does not strike.

He just looks.

He sees you.

He sees the Keeper.

He sees the man.

He sees the boy.

He sees the fear.

He sees the love.

He sees the obsession.

He sees the madness.

He stands up.

He walks to the door.

He walks out.

The wind takes him.

The snow takes him.

The dark takes him.

The room is empty.

The room is silent.

The fire dies.

The smoke settles.

The ash falls.

You stand alone.

You stand in the dark.

You look at your hands.

Your hands are empty.

Your hands are clean.

Your hands are free.

You feel light.

You feel small.

You feel nothing.

You turn.

You walk to the mirror.

The mirror is old. The mirror is cracked. The mirror is dim.

You look at your face.

Your face is old. Your face is gray. Your face is tired.

Your face is free.

You touch your neck.

The chain is gone.

The skin is bare.

The skin is soft.

The skin is yours.

You laugh.

It is a small laugh.

It is a dry laugh.

It is a broken laugh.

It breaks the silence.

It breaks the dark.

It breaks the spell.

The spell is gone.

The Law is gone.

The Keeper is gone.

You are just a man.

You are just a man in a cold room.

You are just a man in a dying town.

You are just a man in a broken world.

You are just a man.

And that is enough.

And that is everything.

You sit down.

You sit on the stone.

The stone is warm.

The stone is alive.

The stone is you.

The fire is out.

The dark is in.

The night is long.

The night is deep.

The night is yours.

You close your eyes.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

You let go.

You let go of the gold.

You let go of the iron.

You let go of the lie.

You let go of the fear.

You let go of the pride.

You let go of the self.

You are nothing.

You are everything.

You are free.

The bell rings.

It is not a scream.

It is a song.

It is a lullaby.

It is a goodbye.

It is a welcome.

It is the sound of the wind.

It is the sound of the snow.

It is the sound of the earth.

It is the sound of the sky.

It is the sound of your heart.

It beats once.

It beats twice.

It beats three times.

It stops.

The dark is deep.

The dark is wide.

The dark is kind.

You are in the dark.

You are in the light.

You are in the middle.

You are in the end.

You are in the beginning.

You are in the now.

You are in the always.

You are in the golden ritual.

The ritual is done.

The seal is broken.

The keeper is free.

The town is free.

The world is free.

The truth is out.

The truth is in.

The truth is you.

The truth is me.

The truth is us.

The truth is now.

The truth is gone.

The truth is here.

The truth is forever.

The golden ritual is over.

The gold is gone.

The iron is gone.

The rust is gone.

The man is gone.

The keeper is gone.

The law is gone.

The fear is gone.

The pride is gone.

The lie is gone.

The truth remains.

The truth is simple.

The truth is plain.

The truth is quiet.

The truth is deep.

The truth is kind.

The truth is cruel.

The truth is free.

The truth is you.

You are free.

You are here.

You are now.

You are gone.

You are home.