Author: ARC

Unyielding Grief

What we value, why we love, how we remember.

The light that fulfilled, the light that enticed, the light that was shrouded in the dark, was forever gone.

And with it my light, my most northern star, my heart had evaporated from this earth.

And yet my heart still bled bullet tears, corroding the earth as they struck it. They burnt through the barren rock beneath my feet with a thousand times the fervour of the venom that the most vile serpent to ever curse this damned land on which I wept could dream of conjuring. Scarlet embers embedded deep within my skin, but I remained, frozen. I vowed that I would remain ever frozen. I vowed that the final waves of heat from the dying sun itself would never melt my manacles of ice. For it was my duty to remember. I knew not why, but that it simply was.

The first time was surprising, I believed that there was nothing, that there would always be nothing but alas a hand was offered. A skeletal yet soft hand, and a voice with it, strong and persistent, it fit death. As what is death if not a strong, persistent mercy? It said, “I suppose I can let you have this.” But my gaze was unfocused, I was still lost. Death waited for a time watching me as it always had but with time it left.

And so, I watched.

I watched civilisations rise and fall. I watched war and birth, pain and joy, suffering and hope. I watched humanity die.

The second time was somehow ever more shocking than the first, for I believed I had been left behind. This time was more difficult, I was no longer frozen by time but by myself and my oath. For a second time, it said, “I suppose I can let you have this.” and I saw its skeletal hand reach out. I studied it for some time for did I really wish to watch more, even if it meant I would remember? After an age, Death left.

I stood as the ground under me shook till the mountains were dust. I stood as the seas disappeared and life withered. I stood through fire and fury.

I persisted through the ice. I persisted through the darkness. I persisted alone and unafraid.

I was still. The earth was no more. Then I drifted.

It was cold as I drifted. It was quiet as I drifted. It was peaceful as I drifted.

I had clarity for the second time in my life.

I drifted for some time, occasionally basking in the light of a supernova or the warmth of a giant. But most of the time I drifted cold, alone and at peace.

Galaxies were created before my eyes, new life was forged in my gaze, the universe continued, relentless.

“I suppose I can let you have this,” said my dearest friend in existence, death. It proffered its hand out to me, the greatest mercy that has and would ever be given, for everyone knows death does not wait for you to be ready. I swatted it away without a thought. I would never be ready to forget.

I would rather suffer for eternity serving my penance than allow myself the blissful flames of hellfire, the ignorance of asphodel or the embrace of a cruel God and chance forgetting them. For I had failed, and I would remain. Till the end.

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The Cost of Perfection

What we sacrifice, why we struggle, how we don’t lose ourselves?

Every day I awoke earlier than the sun and began my plight. Like Sisyphus I pushed my boulder up my mountain every morning before the rooster’s first crow and it rolled back down every night when the sun fell. Yet my work had purpose. I was ensuring the future of humanity. Repetitive, but full of meaning.

As always, I began by heading down to the nursery and checking the infants, ensuring that they were well. I aided those that were not, row of fifty by row of fifty. Eventually the sun began to creep up into the sky as I passed the fiftieth row. As expected around a tenth of the infants were not of sound health, and undoubtedly more would be unwell tomorrow, but that was usual and there were always more.

Next, I proceeded to the school. I watched as the rows filled, the children settled and prepared for the assessment. When the timer rang, I collected the children’s scores. Each morning, they sat a single test — assessing mental aptitude, physical prowess, and educational progress. I passed each row, one by one until I had collected every test from all twenty rows of thirty. I watched as they departed, all 537 of them. Silence blanketed the world. I had succeeded. For a time.

Until the peace was broken by a drip drop. I spun, searching for the sound until I realised where it had come from.

The cost of perfection dripped from my metallic fingers, crimson and cold.

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Two of the Same Breath

What we fight for, why we struggle, how we move forward.

Servitude, destiny and death consume the realm, the crown lies at the feet of few.

Two mortal enemies.

Two who despise one another.

Two born of the same breath. 

One grasped by Charon’s unyielding hand.

One wielding Death’s sickle.



“Let breath not grace your unholy vestige for it will be a curse that will desecrate all it touches, especially this most sanctimonious site of our meeting” – one spat with the venom of the last great serpent.

The other pulled breath from deep within himself and retorted.

“You claim me unholy when you follow such a beast? Such a beast that would desecrate its domain but for the chance to denigrate its subjects.”

“I follow the king.”

“Well no other king plays the tyrant, the simpleton and the jester quite so well”  

With unbridled fury that would shake Medusa’s gaze he roared “You dare?!” 

“Yes I dare, I dare to mock a tyrant, a murderer, a monster and with such efficiency I should be praised.”

“I dare not to mock the rightful king as I have not forgotten nor forsaken who you evidently have.”

An uncanny laughter filled the ruins.

“Oh tell me who you think I have forsaken?” 

With unparalleled fervour he rattled off “The one who is important above all else, the lone light in a dark cosmos, the good in the epitome of evil, the rational in your diseased mind, Thy”

“The preachers’ laurels must be vaster than vast for they have been most victorious in their siege.”

“I could say the same to you, how Thy has been most unceremoniously carved from the once hallowed halls of your mind.” 

“Thought freed me, not man. That which transcends, not myth.” 

Faster than Zeus’s great bolt he struck. 

A blade of stained glass in a man’s palm to shape humanity’s path. 

A blade that would be etched into the eternities of history.

A blade that ended a blood line.

He collapsed from the deed that would shape the ages, as did he. The two men forgot their earthly vows and embraced in their final breath.

Both clinging to Charon’s embrace.

Both relinquishing Death’s sickle. 

Two brothers.

Two closer than the sand and the sea.

Two who die of the same breath. 

Freedom, hope and sacrifice consume the realm, the crown lies at the feet of many.               

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What The Lighthouse ARC Is

What we seek, why we illuminate, how we guide.

In Purpose

The Lighthouse ARC is a journal that refuses simplicity and yet embraces all readers; we explore not just the what but the why and the how of the world, in a way accessible to those of all levels of knowledge.

We seek to answer questions, spread understanding, and guide all those who seek to live life well – in purpose, in practice, and in meaning.

In Practice

We explain the world around us in the context of the past, present and future. We explore through different lenses to understand different perspectives. We excavate the past to understand the future.

This means The Lighthouse ARC is not simply a current events tabloid but a journal of all things human. We examine history, philosophy, sociology, and culture, together with economics, politics, law, and the intricacy they form.

We seek to leave no part of the world in the shadows, illuminating diplomacy, policy and conflict worldwide to all.

In Meaning

Understanding the what of current events is essential but it is not enough for meaningful change which we seek to achieve.

To understand the how, we must understand the economics, the politics, the law, and the intricacy.

The economics explains the politics.

The politics explains the law.

The law explains the intricacy.

The intricacy of our systems shapes our world and your life.

To understand the why, we must understand the history, the philosophy, the sociology, and the culture.

The history explains the past so we can predict the future and shape it.

The philosophy explains the motivations so we can predict next steps.

The sociology explains the structure of society so we predict those that will traverse it and what drives them.

The culture explains what we value so we can predict who we will become.

All Are Linked, And All Shape Our Lives.

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