19

Edward had known the mountains: the shifting weather, tumultuous seasons, extremes of wind, rain, sunshine and snow. He’d scrabbled to survive, reveled in plenty and learned the consequences of his choices. The mountains were not harsh, but they were an effective teacher.

Edward had loved that time. Like all youth, he had found it somehow easier, simpler. Not that he’d thought so at the time, but looking back he knew it was true, in the way we know that the consequences of any given action are somehow more frightening, more paralyzing, than the unknown. Not knowing what would happen next was certainly not the most comfortable position to be in, but Edward had learned that knowing what was to come but having to make the decision anyway was often much, much more likely to induce the kind of fear that ripped at your soul and and made your body react in a way your mind could never hope to control.

This was how Edward felt at this exact moment. Frozen in place, more afraid of doing nothing than acting, but too terrified to act. A delicate balancing act that existed in a sea of tumult, nausea-inducing chaos and palpable fear. Memories of the cold, bitter, hunger-ridden winters flitted through his mind on waves of almost whimsical cheer, and Edward smiled a tiny, sorrowful smile. It was a simpler time, he thought.

And then he acted.

Edward acted for the good that we all assume is around us. The good of many, the good of all, the good we never want, rarely fail to appreciate, and the good we all know in our core is the good that never comes to pass. Even Edward felt this way, but he knew that he must act if only to prove that such a good could exist.

And Edward knew the consequences of his action. No one act can do only good. No one act can guarantee happiness in all. No one act can ever go without consequences. Edward knew no good deed went unpunished; he’d lived that maxim more times than he could ever bear to remember. And the punishment was never meted out simply to he who acted: others would suffer, would also have to endure. But only Edward would know. Only he would remember.

All this flowed through the moment, the moment Edward acted. The joy of the release, the knowledge of the future, the guilt that comes with power fairly wielded, the moment of action flowed through Edward; and, in the moment, Edward felt the symphony of the universe, playing and singing through his being, and lifting and blending and creating and existing.

And then the moment was over. The deed was done, and the future was upon him. And upon the world. The butterfly had flapped its wings, and the way back was gone. Edward laid his ears back and crouched as close to the ground as he could. He became the hillside and waited. Because that was all that was left to him to do now, and Edward always wanted to do what was good. It’s who he was now.