We shall put before
them the greatest gift ever offered to men.
We shall tell them the truth. We shall hand
to them, as our confession, these pages we
have written. We shall join our hands to
theirs, and we shall work together, with the
power of the sky, for the glory of mankind.
Our blessing upon you, our brothers!
Tomorrow, you will take us back into your
fold and we shall be an outcast no longer.
Tomorrow we shall be one of you again.
Tomorrow . . .
PART SEVEN
It is dark here in the forest. The leaves
rustle over our head, black against the last
gold of the sky. The moss is soft and warm.
We shall sleep on this moss for many nights,
till the beasts of the forest come to
tear our body. We have no bed now, save
the moss, and no future, save the beasts.
We are old now, yet we were young this
morning, when we carried our glass box
through the streets of the City to the Home
of the Scholars. No men stopped us, for
there were none about from the Palace of
Corrective Detention, and the others knew
nothing.
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