Description
At the Grave we had many stories. Whispered tales, bedtime stories... Legends on top of lips, in the light of a candle. The best known was that of tear maker. It told of a distant, remote place... A world where no one was capable of crying, and people they lived on empty souls, stripped of emotions. But hidden from everyone, in his immense solitude, there was a little man dressed in shadows. A solitary craftsman, pale and bent, who from his eyes as clear as the glass was capable of making crystal tears. People came to him, asking to be able to cry, to be able feel a shred of feeling - because it's hidden in tears love and the most compassionate of goodbyes. I'm the most intimate extension of the soul, that which, more than joy or happiness, makes one feel truly human. And the craftsman satisfied them... He put his tears in people's eyes with what contained, and behold, people were crying, but it was anger, desperation, pain and anguish. They were lacerating passions, disillusionments and tears, tears, tears - the craftsman infected a pure world, tinged it with more feelings intimate and exhausting. "Remember: you can't lie to the maker of tears," they told us in the end. They told it to us to teach us that every child can be Good; which must be good, because no one is born bad. Not it is in our nature. But for me... For me it wasn't like that. For me that wasn't just a legend. He... wasn't dressed in shadows. He was not a pale, hunched little man, with eyes as clear as glass. No. I knew the maker of tears, and he bore the face of Rigel.
1. A new home
