De Profundis Clamavi

De profundis ad te clamavi; ex lapide frigido ultra sepulcrum.

I write this from the great, cold stillness where the fever of the world has finally broken. I see you both now with the hollow clarity of a man who no longer has a stake in the light. You are the two architects who defined my ruin and my oblivion.

Brother mine, brother dear:

I forgive you for the stifling fog of your deceit. You did not merely lie; you practiced a slow and wicked sorcery upon the very atmosphere of our shared path. You poisoned the lamps until they cast only the shadows of your choosing, and you curdled the air until every honest word was choked in its throat. It was a phantom's work, perverting the very pulse of my reason, until I lost my bearing and succumbed to the darkest of tides.

You were the stagnant water that rose in the dark, silent and foul, until my name shattered and my life’s work was lost forever. You traded my sanity for the cold comfort of your own secrets, burying the truth beneath a shroud of whispers. I release you to your shadows; I am too weary to haunt the wasteland you have made of my life.

Ad fratrem meum non sanguine, sed spiritu—custos animae meae:

Venerabilis amice, dimidium animae meae.

My anchor. My dear, unspoken heartbeat. You were the only man who held the lamp that could have pierced that fog. You possessed the testimony that would have mended my reputation and restored my honor—yet you chose to hold your peace. You stood by and watched my life’s work turn to dust, choosing to let the world brand me a villain rather than deliver a truth you feared would break my heart.

To a man of the law, such silence is a crime against the light; but to a man bound by a love so fragile it could wither in any suspicious glance or vile word, bringing us both to the bench—not as the saviours, but as the condemned—it is an act of devotion. My name may be dragged through the silt and mire, and I might emerge from the abyss bloodstained and shattered, yet in your heart I shall find solace.

In silentio amoris, ego te absolvo. I forgive you for your protective silence. I forgive you for choosing my soul over my status. My name may be cast into oblivion by the courts, but let it be written in the quiet sanctuary of your memory, where I know it was always held sacred.

The brief is closed. The lamps are out. Do not seek me in the mist; there is nothing left but the damp air and the rising tide.

Vulneratus sed non victus; per damnum ad spem.