Notes on the LaSein Account, Part 5

The same altered-knife symbol as the previous entry, appended with two tally marks.

The events immediately following my previous entry are rapidly decaying to something of a blur in my memory, but I will endeavor to recount them as accurately as possible.  Upon realizing my oversight (which, in retrospect, could hardly have been blamed on me despite my feelings of foolishness), I rushed to assemble a unit of guardsmen, and, having done so, I proceeded to the LaSein estate in order to apprehend the old man I now understand to be Arman LaSein.

My greeting there was not so warm this time, though not for any hostility on the part of the estate.  Perhaps it was our lack of appointment or the armed demeanor of the guards, but beyond distant acquiescence from the servants, we were not greeted at all.  Rather, on our own, we found Arman LaSein in a far-flung parlor, playing some sonata on an old grand piano. He informed us, without interruption to his melody, that the Captain was unwell and would not be able to entertain that day.

I of course replied with the truth: We were not there for the Captain.  As he nodded, still playing his music, I directed the guards to arrest him, but they would not.  The sergeant just shook his head at me and departed. His subordinates followed, leaving me dumbfounded in the parlor when, at last, LaSein stopped playing.  Unnerved but undeterred, I asked him a number of questions there, but still I cannot help but feel that his answers have not substantially enhanced my understanding of the situation.

I asked him what he had done to the guards–he said he showed them the truth.  I asked why he was here in the city–he replied it was to persuade his daughter to cease her patriotism.  I asked him what any of that meant, and he just sneered, asking me in return why I thought he was bothering to answer my questions at all.  Without waiting for my response, he began to play again, a cyclical series of variations, alternating between dissonance and harmony. After a few moments, he elaborated:

He stated that he had devoted his life to the study of a particular pattern, and he had returned to Thago to answer the question of whether that pattern might be able to be broken if its components were simply made aware of their preordination.  I remained bewildered as he bade me farewell, but then he issued a pointed suggestion: “Why don’t you write it down?”

That is what I am doing now, though I must confess I feel no wiser and all the more discomfited by Captain LaSein’s impending fate.

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