Today I write because if not, I’ll simply go mad.
Rose has left in search of food and bandages. I’ve done all I can for John and Catherine but they won’t wake up. She says that a hospital won’t be able to save them. She tells me that they are behind the wall and only they will be able to get themselves back. God forgive me, I almost struck her! Still, I knew that what she said was the truth. Somehow, I knew that while it seemed to me that they were merely sleeping that there was a great struggle going on.
I should tell what happened at the Exhibition.
We arrived in New York City, and God all the people, the people of the city moved like a great current along its streets. Everywhere I turn, more people. We got the tickets to the exhibition and investigated the place where it would be. We couldn’t see much into the place but it was like a medieval castle high atop a hill. A castle, among this place? It seemed like a different place altogether.
Later, while we were on the way to the exhibition we tricked a young girl who had been following us. She was lively and insisted that she didn’t know anything while not even denying that she’d been following us. John got her to admit that she’d been paid $3000 dollars to follow us but she wouldn’t say who paid her or why. Catherine at one point cut the girl’s face. A small cut and nothing that wouldn’t heal but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was straying too much from the heroine that she wished to be.
We released the girl soon thereafter.
The Exhibition was a fancy dress affair and John seemed to have some trouble fitting in. Catherine suggested that we split up to avoid calling too much attention so I went over to gather information from the help. Many of them had a great amount of fear for Mister Reynolds but at the same time, held him in great respect. I wonder if they’d known? I mingled about for a while until Rose came to collect me.
Rose was the assassin dressed as a Catholic Nun back on the train. This was something that I noticed a few moments after speaking with her. She had this air of pride in herself, tempered by a sense of loss about her. Rose told me that Mister Reynolds is the man behind the Golden Sun. She called him, “her savior” who kept her from succumbing. To what, she didn’t say then but the sadness in her was evident.
The paintings by Nora Daniels seemed to be taken right from our life. There was one however. One of a creature with white fur and antlers, it’s eyes as crimson as the blood on it’s hands.
Mister Reynolds asked us to join them or stand aside.
It seems that the item under the clay monument, when used in some sort of ritual, can be used to change the world. It seems so simple to write that phrase. “Change The World” It’s a small thing to say but, after all that we’d seen and dealt with, I believed that it was possible.
We were faced with an issue like none other. Either change the world (for the better he says) or fight to keep the world as it is. He said that even now is not the worst, he says that in 50 years or so, there will be a war that consumes the whole world. This was will kill millions. What would God have me do? Change His creation to relieve suffering or Leave His creation as is and allow the suffering to continue and in fact, get worse. What if changing His creation is what He had in mind all along?
Since either way could be a sin beyond any other, I could only do nothing. I know that Catherine was angry about that. I know that she wanted me to speak up for one side or the other but, knowing everything that I know now… I still don’t know what to choose. Eventually, she said that she would change the world but only if She were the one to do it. John came along, changing his mind at the last minute.
I heard the ritual being performed from where I was. I heard the last lines and then they fell. I ran to help them, ready to extract revenge from those who would hurt them. But by the time I got to where they were, the others were fleeing, the creature from the painting stood where Reynolds once had and it had a hole the size of a melon through it’s chest.
It fell to the ground with a rather sickening thud.
Rose helped me get John and Catherine out of there. She stopped to set fire to the place, she said that the lies needed to be burned away. I guess I can’t blame her. I certainly didn’t stop her. Am I loosing my sense of right and wrong in this thing? Anyway, we got back to a hotel room and I’ve been waiting since.