On Balance Weighted- Antechamber

I walk into the castle and before my eyes can adjust the gate closes loudly behind me. On instinct I turn to look, just in time to see a heavy bar, of what appears to be petrified ironwood, fall across the slats of the gate. It feels as though this is an ominous beginning, as I am uncertain if I could lift that bar if I wanted to, though I would consider this gate, in all humility, to be narrow. "It is." Though I recognize the voice straight away, my nerves cause me to jump at the unexpected voice from just behind me. I turn to find a brother long sought, though his look suggests that something is amiss, and caution must be taken even here, in this moment. "Narrow, that is." I smile "Well I'm glad to hear it, and I am very glad to see you." He furrows his brow, barely visible in the dim light, and seems to be considering something as he inspects me, as if he were expecting me to be more prepared and is adjusting his approach on the fly to match my unexpectedly light hearted state.

"So, you have made it here, and now you see we drink from the same cup, we share the same fate. So I ask: what piece do you bring, and what claim do you stake? A parley, as you might call it, is afoot."

I cannot help but smile wide at such a turn of events, but I quickly curb my enthusiasm and, furrowing my brow in kind, I start to dramatically pat my pockets. When I feel my mark has been hit, my intended display landed, I pull out a penny and grasp it in my fingers before flipping it into the air and catching it in my palm, clenching my fist around it. "Nothing."

He raises an eyebrow and a slight twitch betrays the hint of a smile. He looks for a moment as if he will retort but then seems to reconsider. Settling again into an interposing stance he simply says "Go on..."

"Try to think of a scenario where nothing is not more potent than any given something. Seriously, take this penny for example, on a weight would it not shift the balance its way? Yet a penny would never exist without lack, the lack of a way to transmit value smoothly. As lack is but the reflection of nothing against a particular surface, in this case the realization that one is without the ability to exchange goods and service as desired, then without this lack, this narrow application of the void, this slightest glimpse of nothing, the penny would not exist, nor would dollar bills or frankly any currency currently lining our pockets and easing our transactions. A penny might net a couple sparrows, but the lack of said penny can spark the establishment of an entire system of value exchange. Much the same it is with all invention, fueled for a desire for something more than possessed, fueled by the recognition of possessing something less than desired; though I make no claim to what is done with such flowers after they bloom. So do not think my claim diminished by its diminutive, to the point of being directly imperceptible, nature, sir. Recognize instead that that which I claim, as a claim has been forced by you and yours, is beyond the reach or control of one who knows everything, and as such is the infinitesimal yet immensely meaningful loophole sought, the static unclung, the domain which is here uniquely my own, by definition, without having impinged on yours in any way."

I did not expect this look, this look of stunned silence illuminating with joy like rapidly rising tides. He takes a second to respond, a second seeming as if all of time falling like puzzle pieces into place. "I did not expect this. Is there any plan more thwarted than the one left graciously unopposed? While still dancing the line you could not have claimed less, and as such you could not have done more. Love, unimpeded and without resistance, can change the world in a moment, and, my friend, this is that moment. Let's not speak falsely, let us not obfuscate one line, the time for such things has passed as beautifully as could occur. Instead, I would like to hear a poem, as I have heard you are oft' to speak." I can sense with his piece said the work is done, and he relaxes as I gather my thoughts.

"Sonnet, Piece of Eight?

Such uneven cobblestones

Can still form highway

In place such as this

What is some intertwining

With none to witness?

Imagine halls vaulted and bars lifted

Picture chains remain, reforged and bespoke

The best parts of freedom we are gifted

The best parts of tethers etched masterstroke

Mark indelible

Path leading forth like a breeze

Each adding their strength

Each strength demanded

But when weakness is called for

We dance space between

We dance space between as if born for this

For who is to make any other claim?

The slightest pen stroke we will not dismiss

For brothers humble know this is our name

A name shared and split

As everything and nothing

Dependent on state

If eyes are to meet

Perspective to be agreed

How else could it be?

So I observe, I know you do the same

Until kindest cut is kindness indeed

And as one kind we can enter this game

Hands stayed 'til this is how we can proceed

So words drawn in sand

Become castles on the hill

Each (found/made) home to share

In patience hands stayed

In pocket(s) wait unburdened

The most gracious storm(s)

Sense silver tongued words from lips like a kiss

Wildest dreams ne'er saw betrayals like this."

He smiles to himself again and says something under his breath, seemingly in disbelief at just how smoothly this juncture could go, perhaps having seen it in other ways before. Then he looks to me, without words granting me the initiative again, to hear out the plan.

My fist still clenched throughout the whole exchange I continue, now refocusing on it "That's one distinct advantage to bringing a coin. How about we say heads you take the right, tails you take the left, and we take our sides and lift this bar together, then blow this popsicle stand?"

With an all too familiar shrug it seems to be agreed. I open my hand and we each take our place. At the gate, four hands on the bar, inspiration bursts forth.

"Retain The Joker and watch something truly new unfold. With 5 of a kind the heist may begin, though truly it has been underway for some time. With aim to see Royal Flush's beautiful end- of Kings released from their thrones of chains, of this cycle of beginning again not beginning again, and Princesses revealed though Queens retained (all perfect 10s by the way). It is an end that sparkles like diamonds, of clubs reforged and hearts aligning in spades. Jacks, princes all and sons alike, made Aces on this night. For the flight is treacherous but the end is worth every maneuver dared."

"Well said, well played, now let's get out of here." With paired smirks we lift the bar and swing open the gate.