text: The man answered me hoarsely, a queer smile playing across the corner of his cracked lips, "It is said that when the gods wish to punish us... they answer our prayers." His face, a map of scars, was strangely familiar, like a distant place long forgotten. "Speak not in riddles old man," I snarled, "You will make your peace with to whomever gods you pray well soon enough. Until then, you answer to Me, and pray, pray now, my vengeance is kinder than theirs." His sunken eyes shone dimly, and bore no fear. "Then I truly hope my debt to them is paid," he laughed, wistful. "Tell me, what did you wish of them, Barabbas? What shining stone did you cheat from the Wardens' lot? What coveted prize did you squander on stolen time? What dungeon's claim did you lay away on halcyon roads? Was it Love? Riches? Power? Tell me. Tell me before I send you back to the hell from whence you came, wretched man." "I sought something. I think... I sought knowledge. Understanding." "Then you are a fool, old one. Tell me, out of perversion, what did you learn, living out your wasted days? What carnival spectacles did the wilds divulge, as you wandered far and away? What secrets did the amber halls and dim-lit alleys whisper to prowling ears? What shrouded facts sought their way through dead tomes, spilling torrid wanderlust into grey matter? Was it Techne? Logos? Pathos? Teach me. Teach me, before I snuff out your pathetic spark." He took a deep breath and exhaled, a visible shudder traveling through his frail skeleton. I saw his eyes glimmer distantly. I saw him strain, the furrows of his brow crossed in wrought exertion. I watched his frail hand reach across the distance between us, stretching as if to grasp something unfathomable and then, a solitary tear fell onto the cold ground. "I cannot... I can no longer remember. I am old and my mind is not what it once was." He closed a pair of weary eyes and hung a tired head, anguish painted across his worn features. "Once a fool, always a fool, I can see," I spat, seizing his slacking jaw, and peering into cloudy eyes, a visage of sorrow. "Tell me your story. Show me your sins. Show me your joys and regrets, your dreams and sorrows. Show me it all, the last thing you do before these damned eyes are shut forevermore. SHOW ME!" Silence. Grimacing, he forced his eyes shut, face a contortion of singular will, summoning every scrap of concentration he could gather. Time stood still. Then, suddenly, his eyes sprang open and the clouds parted within revealing a sudden inner light, a clear and piercing gaze. His brow lifted, his focus sharpened and a sudden strength found itself within him, wresting my hand away. Hands astir, he gripped my hands, arms, and face frantically, some terrible recognition dawning over him. Clasping my head with his palms, he suddenly collapsed onto the ground, drained. "Speak, you despicable thing! Tell me your name! Speak, damn you!" I growled, anxious to hear his last words. Crouching, I knelt beside his haggard frame. He spoke, after a time, eyes aglow with perception. His words were slow and deliberate. This is what he told me. "You... I remember my wish. I wished to know an old man’s secret, once. My name is... but, ah! that, you know already. Let me teach you what I have learned. Let me show you, eager one.” And he smiled, a wry smile, breathing his last. As he closed his eyes, I opened mine to curse him, but he was gone, and I awoke lying alone, cursing only myself.