Clancy's Letters

CLANCY_S JOURNAL 07

I can't face this page for long enough to write what I'm truly feeling. I am only wrought with more questions: Questions about what I assumed to be true, questions about what my own path is, and the question that has plagued my every night that I lie here, back in the city: Did I give up?

The force I saw between him and his bishop seemed tense to me, and frightening. But the memory of that exchange has had time to fester and replay in my mind long enough that I'm questioning if I even remembered it correctly. I assumed the bishop was forcefully retrieving his subject, but now I wonder if the bishop was actually trying to save him, but he refused.
I stayed out there for five days after I watched it happened. I haven't seen him since. 

Home?

Did I just call this place "home?"

After all of the endless beauty that I saw out there, I am now convincing myself that I'm actually better off within these confines?

I admit, It was more difficult than I expected. Nothing could have prepared me for how much the 'unknown' can consume me. Vast landscapes and endless possibilities, yet coupled with endless danger. I became anxious. I became tired. I became hungry. Every step I took seemed harder than the last, jumping from jagged rucky step to step, or pulling myself through thick forest – it all became debilitating, and I was sure that I couldn't go on.

Keons approached as the sun rose one morning. I wasn't scared. I was relieved. After all that he had taught me, his presence was the most comforting moment that I had in days, and I couldn't help but be happy to see him. In true Keon's fashion, he wrapped his arms around me, then put his hands under my face, looked me in the eyes, and then said "Clancy, my child, let's go home."
I've been here for a few weeks now, and while the routines of this world are comforting, and certainly easier than life out there, my mind keeps bouncing between the two places.

Which one is home? Are the bishops protecting me, and the torches upon the hilltop dangerous? Or is it the other way around? My dreams pull me from world to world, and I feel lost in between all of it.

There is still so much I do not understand.

- Clancy