Editing Lara documents/Lara 005.002

{{Apocrypha}}
''Translated by J.D. Barnes''

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My father was was a fine Maintainer and a good D'ni. But he was not always a kind man. And he was even less kind when he saw what he thought was wrong. In my 15 hahrtee<ref>This seems to be an idiom for describing the age between 15 and 20, similar to saying 'as a teenager'. –J.D.</ref>, I had been very foolish and discontent child. I was shamed to be brought to my father by another Maintainer, as my friends and I had been found defacing statues in the Kali district. And, in my fear, I'd claimed that I'd done none of the actual destruction myself. Instead, I blamed one of my fellows. 

My father, he saw through my deception. In silence he brought me home and stood me in front of one of his prize possessions. It was a figurine of a dancer, blown from Chahn glass<ref>Chahn was a desert age known for its sand, which had high-quality silica. Glass made from this sand was highly prized. –J.D.</ref>. He said it reminded him of my mother, who had been dead for 4 hahrtee. He stood me in front of the figurine and took my hand in his. And then he thrust my hand through the figuring, slicing my hand with its broken glass. 

I screamed. I cried. And when I'd run out of breath, he said to me. "When you betray, you destroy something beautiful. All that is left is shards. And shards can only make you bleed." And he sent me to the [[Guild of Healers]]. 

My father was not a kind man. My hand still carries the scars. But pain is the midwife<ref>Not an exact translation, but the term midwife most closely describes the role in the Guild of Healers that assisted in the process of normal birth. –J.D.</ref> of wisdom. 

I have seen many wonders throughout the Ages. Sunsets that have taken my breath away in Darjehm. The glittering cliffs of Bahr'ahn, the stone infused with crystals. The serenity of the gardens. But my father's lesson taught me that these sights were nothing<ref>Literally "to the one". –J.D.</ref>. 

True beauty was elsewhere. That beauty was not found in the structure of a crystal, but rather in the structure of people uniting together, and what they create. The husband and the wife that cares for a child. The brotherhood of Guildmen who share in a job well-done. The choir which weaves disparate notes into a song that would make Yahvo himself cry. Yes, D'ni has created many great things, many astounding Ages. But it is the results of people working as one that is the most noble<ref>Literally "noble to the twenty-five". –J.D.</ref> of creations. 

And thus it is the greatest of the sins of D'ni that we, repeatedly, set to the task of destroying our own beautiful efforts. We set upon ourselves like diseased animals. Over Ages, over bookworlders, over the words of a prophet. We thrust our hands into the delicate and noble lattice of our connections and shatter them. And as my father pointed out, shattering leads to shards. Not pieces. Not components that we can use to rebuild. But shards that are all edge and point, that slide into our fresh, and our hearts. And from those wounds, D'ni bleeds. 

We tell ourselves that we are a noble people. We meet in our neighborhoods and tell one another that we are good people, that Yahvo would be proud of us. But we must fit into the robe of our supposed nobility. That means we must learn to build with more than stone and pen. We must build with our good words. We must build with our good actions. We must build by reaching out our hand and say, "My friend, let me help you." 

There will be conflict. There always is. But even in our disagreement, we must build. Our disagreement must be the stone on which the tool of our character is sharpened. We cannot build with anger, or greed, or guile. Rather, we build with honest passion, with respect for both the positive and the negative<ref>'the positive and the negative' here is an idiom that seems to refer to sides of an debate{{subst:mdash}}the pro and con sides.–J.D.</ref>. We argue with the goal to build what is right, what is strong and what is honest. Even if that means we must concede, or even surrender. 

And this was my father's lesson to me. That I had chosen the wrong path. I had bled for it, just as my friend might have bled for my choice if my father had believed my lie. That is the choice we each have, every moment. Where we go, we can leave beauty. Or we can leave shards, and blood. 

I hope you choose well.

== Footnotes ==
{{reflist}}