Relativity

Truth is relative.

That sounds weird, I know it does. That does not mean it is not true. Oh. Hm. Right, so...that does not mean I am not right about it. Yes, that works better.

I have met more than my share of people who claim to want the truth, but as soon as they are presented with it they either get mad, sad or indignant. Maybe I am simply going about this wrong, but if asked a question I have always been truthful. Sometimes, why yes, yes you do actually look enormously fat in those robes. For example. Sometimes you are not the proud possessor of the greatest cock on Gor and seriously, sometimes, you really are just being a big whiner about life.

See, no one wants to hear those things. The truth can hurt, it can distract, it can take a perfectly nice trip to the fair and turn it into a potential trip to hell...just not for me. And that is right where I am stuck and stuck fast.

I did not set off on any grand adventure. There was no method to what happened. Maybe fate dealt a had, but I am not much a believer in such things. I do not know why I came to be where I was or that what I found was there, but the truth is. I was and I did and now I am rambling.

The fair itself is nice, but I was in one of those moods, the ones where I need to be alone, to set myself apart and wait for the hum of energy to dissipate, to center myself to where I can hear each individual hearbeat. Try it, it is a lot harder than you might think. I needed to think and yes, it was his words that triggered the need.

"happy"
"content"
"strong"
"always"

Those are all good things, and as I look at them on the paper I actually feel a bit of remorse that I heard anything in them except the face value. Truth is, though, that I did. I mean seriously, me? He sees me as this always happy slave, so content and strong...I was so angry. How is that for irony? Tell me I am wonderful and I develop the urge to knee your nuts into your sternum.

It is more complicated than that however and I wanted...no I needed...to figure out which layer bore the anger that should not have risen. I needed to try to understand why in the world I would feel that pang of hurt when I can only imagine he meant what he said. That was why I was there.

I left the fairgrounds. I did not have much chance to do so when last I was here so I took the opportuity to get closer to the mountains. The trees and rocks were inviting and no one stopped me. I am a good enough tracker to not get lost, and cosidering the size of the fair, one would have to be struck dumb not to find it again. I have heard rumors, legends, of the Sardar Mountais, but I saw no larls, no blue flames.

I did not ascend very far, maybe a pasang and a half before I left the trail. There were two voices, male, and although I was not technically doing anything wrong, I was not very keen on being found wandering about. Common sense? Instinct? I am not sure but it is why I climbed atop the small ledge, the indent of a small cave was accidentally found by falling into it.

I intended to stay only long enough for the men to go elsewhere but once I saw the thing, I have to admit, I was too intrigued. The case seems broken and it fits easily in my palm. I have no idea who it belongs to or what it might be used for, there are no words in Gorean that I saw. I pushed a few buttons that looked like they might be letters or numbers and nothing happened.

It made me nervous. While I have never seen the blue flames strike anyone, being this close to the sacred mountains, indeed within a pocket of one, well that made all of the legends seem realer. There were papers scattered as if they had fallen and been left behind. One boot was also against a wall as if thrown off. It seems in good shape, it clearly has not been out there long.

The papers are, I fear, in English. I have seen Taharian script and I am literate in Gorean, but this is utterly unfamiliar. I took the largest piece and will show it to....well someone.

Which brings me back to truth.

Am I obligated to tell him? To tell Skirt or Mads? I do not know all that happened when they returned to their barbarian village but I know enough to know it was tense and not fun. What if whatever this is causes them pain? What if it would get him in trouble, to have known his slave wandered there? How does he feel about his slave having touched something like that thing?

That is where it gets to be a relative subject. It is unlikely he will ask directly if I wandered up into the mountains at all, so not mentioning it would not be technically a lie. Trouble is, I would know and I would not like it. Which is worse, my own discomfort with the hidden truth or protecting them from something that might, at the very least, cause painful memories?

If I really am the strong happy content predictable slave he thinks, then I guess I would not even ask the question. Trouble is, his truth is horribly skewed in this matter and I have not got the faintest idea how to rectify that.

Dammit to hell, life was a lot easier when all anybody wanted or deserved was a good fuck and a smile.