Balances

I’d never have married you had I known who you were.

     You certainly knew all along how I felt about your kind, how I felt about you in particular. You knew that I cursed the name, cursed the deeds, you knew I only had not a face to the name.

    You won me over with all your little tools, all the charm you had at your disposal, the same tools you used to accomplish your evil, the same charm that allowed you to continue with it. You told me you were mine, and I said I was yours, too. You knew full well I was giving myself over to the demon I spent my life hating, fighting.

    And you let me. I loved you, and you let me.

                        ~*~

Mertekhe is a god of balance. Certainly, there are other gods, plenty of them, but Mertekhe is the one we need right now.

With Mertekhe, there are simple rules and complex rules. Both are important, both are required to keep the balance. The simple rules are for every day, keeping the balance in small matters. The complex rules keep the balance on a larger scale, and many must follow them.

The balance is such that, depending on how you look at them, there is really no distinction between the sets of rules. Hence we are many that keep to the rules; keep to the rules and keep the balance.

See, on one hand, a step on the black stones equals three steps on the white stones. On the other hand is the “life-balance”. The latter stands for harmony, for the balance that is achieved by taking and giving in measures whose end results are the same. Which is the simple rule and which the complex? Indeed, does it matter?

The balance, like the rules that keep it, is as simple or complex as you decide it must be. To wish to advance is natural, but to advance in debt is to have advanced hardly at all. That which is borrowed must be returned, replenished with the interest that advancement has supplied, for one-sided advancement is no form of advancement.

See, another thing about the balance is the extremities. There is pain and there is pleasure, there is love and there is hate. Whatever the one side is weighed down or buoyed up by, the other side will have a counterweight to neutralize. The extremes are part and parcel of this, and the balance can tolerate them all. 

But what happens, you might ask, when Mertekhe is forgotten? When one side is weighed down constantly, while the other side grows lighter? The balance cares not for the foolish whims of those who would destroy it, even for the whims of those would preserve it. After all, eventually the balance tips so much over to one side that the weights fall off all at once. Then it bounces back with a clang, and rocks back and forth until the balance is restored.

Humans often forget that the balance is above them. Some seek to destroy it, some to restore it, and unknowingly become part of the balance themselves. When it tips over, they will fall too.

                    ~*~

Fifty nine steps on the black stones and one hundred and seventy seven on the white bring me to the shop. Milk, eggs and sugar. Five steps on the black and fifteen on the white take me to the next. Strawberries, lemons. The following unsatisfying twenty and fifty seven steps lead me to a small, dark window where I am handed a dainty little bag for more money than I once could fathom. I make up the extra three steps as I walk home, to store the commonplace in the kitchen, and the precious under my pillow. 

After all, the strawberries must ripen to the brink of rot before I can put them to my purpose, and I am good at waiting.

It seems to me that the air is fresher these days, and there is more green, more life about. I put it down as a good omen to my endeavors, and wait ever more patiently as I kiss my “beloved” husband who returns later and later each day.

Finally the strawberries are ready, and tomorrow is the special day. I balance coarse and smooth, silky and sharp as I mix the batter. I balance sweet and sour and just a little more sweet as I add the fruit and the sugar. Then the bitter contents of the precious little vial hide safely behind the sweet and I put my mixture carefully through the processes of heat and cold. I decorate my perfect little pastry as best as I can, using beauty to mask the evil it hides. I painstakingly letter the cake with words of love, to contrast the hatred that went into its creation.

Mertekhe would be proud.

                        ~*~

The sun shines brightly, the light reaching my eyes even as I am blindfolded and led to what I have been promised is a wonderful surprise. Ah, my dear husband, if only you knew the surprise I have for you.

The sound of his muffled laughter wrenches inside me, makes me wish for a moment that I had never known who he really was, that I could have been innocent and happy in my delusions. I silence the thought as quickly as it comes; an opportunity to restore the balance is more than I could ever have hoped for, a blessing of the highest degree. To wish such things is to throw my blessings in Mertekhe’s face, and I am no fool.

The blindfold falls away, and I am stunned speechless for a minute. It has been a long time since I have looked upon such beauty, such splendour, pure and uncontaminated.

“Do- do you like it?” He sounds just like he did a year ago, when he presented me with a ring. I am sure he looks just as he did then as well. Wearing the uncertain smile of someone who knows that they have made the right choice, yet harbors a small doubt.

My smile is warm as I turn to him to say, “I love it.”

His grin is jubilous for a minute before he discards it in favor of a mischievous smile. “But can you guess where we are?”

I puzzle over this for a minute, wondering at his dancing eyes. Certainly, this is a strange matter. Where did my husband, destroyer of the balance, come into a spot such as this one? And how come it is still untainted? How has it escaped his destruction?

However, as interesting a puzzle it may be, I must not forget my duty. 

“Well, my dear, I can think that over after I have shown you my surprise.”

So we play the delightful game, my heart joyous, heavy, and puzzled at the same time. He exclaims over the pastry, says several things that once would have made my heart race with joy, and after much pleasantry, we divide up the pastry between us and settle down to play his game.

Indeed, I too will partake of this sweet sentence with him. I will die here, in the midst of this beauty, with him by my side. After all, there must be balance. When they lose one who has been so instrumental to their cause, it is only fair that we do as well. Yet I would much rather it be me who pays the price. For all my hatred, I cannot bear to think of a life without him, even as I hate myself for it. Yes, it is much better that I die here.

We acquire forks and dainty mouthfuls, around which he asks me once more, “So can you guess where we are?”

“I cannot imagine. It has been a long time since I saw such beauty, and it took quite long to reach here. Perhaps a faraway haven? A guarded secret?”

His laughter surrounds me, and I am glad that I shall die here. Perhaps there are rewards waiting after death for those who do good, and I shall be able to love him again when we are washed free of our sins and our earthly bodies.

“I knew you would not be able to guess! I took you in circles to bring you here, we are not a mile from home!”

All of a sudden, his mischievous expression is replaced by an earnest one.

“Look, my dear, my darling, I know you must have found out by now who I am, I know you must hate me for it, you do, don’t you?”

I am too shocked to do anything but nod. He continues, looking pained but determined.

“Listen to me, my life changed when I met you, you showed me a new world, so unlike the one I had grown up in, and I liked it. I wanted to make a world for you that you could love, a world where you could, perhaps, just maybe, forget your hatred for me. Look around you, these are the places you used to hate, and see what I have turned them into! I have begun to undo the harm I did, my love, to restore the balance!”

Giddy with shock, all I can do is look down at the empty plates, spattered with our tears, and a single drop of blood, a drop he does not see yet.

“I know you have hated me, I cannot imagine how you felt when you found out, but now, if you just give me a chance, we can restore the balance, together! And, perhaps, someday, someday I might be worthy of your love.”

I am trembling now, shock and poison coursing through my veins, and my voice sounds far away as I desperately, once more, try to restore that of the balance I can touch.

“I have always loved you.”