Sight Beyond Sight

by DJ Honorat

Sight Beyond Sight

  By Dimitri J. Honorat

  Copyright 2012 Dimitri J. Honorat

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  Titles in this series

  by Dimitri J. Honorat

  Title 1 –Sight Beyond Sight

  Title 2 – Twice Empowered*

  Title 3 –The Journey*

  *coming soon!

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  About the Author

  Sight Beyond Sight

  Having grown up in a big city, one thing you never expect to happen is to eventually end up living in a small, out of the way, sleepy little village. A pretty face has a way of throwing all plans out the window. A few years later, it was almost as if he'd been born in the village that was left behind only rarely during trips to deliver special requests to nearby villages and occasionally to the town of Mokhtan or the city of Darbuil.

  Thinking about his life the last few dozen years, the shoe-maker most knew as Renpol wouldn't have changed a thing. Staying in this sleepy village had in fact made his skill with the leather better, and though he travelled less than in his younger years, his reputation had grown. It was a little surprising when he realized he was actually successful and happy.

  His routine was set in the mornings now. He woke up before the sunrise, which he rarely ever saw because his windows faced the wrong way, then prepared the leather he needed for his next work, smoothing the oils and greases into the leather. By time the sun was up, his wife had prepared breakfast, which he took with his children. Then he returned to work. The older children would leave for their school lessons, but the youngest, named after himself would sometimes hang around the shop, and sometimes wander out into the village. In the city, that would have been dangerous, but here, the other villagers looked after his children as if they were family. There was no better place to be.

  Little Renny Cobbler was considered by all within his village of Sanshan (Three Hills) as unusual, not because he caused trouble or of any physical peculiarities, but because he talked very little and was always watching. Renny always seemed to be observing others, but his favorite places to visit seemed to be the Healer’s Court, where the three town healers lived, Temple Way where the Five Churches competed against the other nine religions, and Crafter’s Crescent. Nobody bothered Renny, not even the boldest of the village bullies. Even they thought Renny was weird, enough that they preferred to leave him alone.

  Renny apparently has been the same since he could walk and was allowed to venture out into Sanshan. The three healers actually welcomed him and often shared either a morning or mid-day meal with the young boy. At night he always found his way back to his father’s home which doubled as a cobbler’s shop. His two brothers and one sister, all older, also found him strange and kept their distance. Renny didn’t mind so much. He’d seen what his own siblings and others were capable of when they took an interest, and considered it a blessing his own family was disinterested in him.

  Renny liked to watch people. He liked to see what they were doing, and most of all, he liked to imagine he knew why they did things they did. He could guess very accurately about a person he’d never seen before, and very often, eavesdropping on conversations would confirm his impressions.

  Renny saw a lot about people, more than most knew, but he realized very early in his short life that nobody else he knew could see the things he did. Renny was bright for his age, also wise and mature beyond the same. He knew they would not understand what he could see. He decided to keep things to himself.

  Renny could see wisps, bands, ribbons and mists of colors around people’s bodies, and over time he’d learned to read what those colors meant. He learned that green, a particular vibrant and pleasant shade like the leaves fresh grown after the Resting Season, that green meant someone who was nice and helpful. It was the green that the Healers had. He learned that purple and blue were for those people less concerned with material things than with the mental or spiritual. The priests on Temple Way and the Scrivenor on Crafter’s Crescent had varying shades of each. His father too had some purple, but it turned to brown as the bands neared his feet. Renny’s father, Renpol Cobbler, after whom he was named, was a rather earthy and sensible person. As crafters went, Renpol Cobbler Senior was very good. He made shoes, sandals and boots for all of Sanshan and the next three nearby villages. Merchants from the nearby city of Darbuil also came to him for some work. Shoes for small children were particularly popular in Darbuil, and so were work boots, particularly the riding kind that was popular among the Guard there. Renpol Cobbler did well for himself, and his family wanted for nothing.

  Renny was adventurous, but in a quiet and non-reckless way. He gained lots of knowledge and wisdom simply by observing others. Renny had no idea though that this talent for watching, an unusually developed sense of curiosity would be the key to his future…

  It was a bright Warm Season morning, nearly going into Harvest Season, when Renny made his way to Temple Way. It was nearly all the way across the village from their home, and on his short legs, it took a while, but most of the villagers were starting their work, and very few were out and about.

  Renny liked to go there early when fewer of the villagers were about. Early in the morning, the Sanshan villagers were more likely to be working their farms, visiting the market or Crafter’s Crescent, or setting up wares in their shops. Temple Way was peaceful in the mornings but not quiet, as the priests were always up early to greet the sun and begin praising their deity. The purples around their bodies were pleasant. There were even a few that had yellow or gold, and only one that Renny had seen who had a yellow so pale as to be nearly white. That was the elder of the Five Churches, but Renny saw him rarely.

  Renny relished the walk towards Temple Way. There was a large gurbole tree on the way that he usually stopped near because it was often filled with birds who loved to chirrup and sing in the early morning. If he got too close they would grow quiet or fly away. So he had learned to approach quietly and stand a respectful distance away.

  This morning was different. When Renny got to the gurbole, the area was quiet, devoid of the usual diurnal avian harmony. It was unsettling because the few moments listening to the birds had become a pleasant routine. Renny looked up into the branches, and was surprised to find the birds were missing. Renny looked around, and there was no one else about. If the birds were disturbed, they did some times fly away, but they regularly would return when the offending party had moved away. For them to be gone when there was no apparent threat or disturbance was very unusual.

  As Renny approached the Five Churches courtyard where many priests were already beginning their morning prayers, he started to feel a disquieting feeling. It rose from the bottom of his spine and seemed to crawl up behind his neck, over his scalp and forward to his eyebrows. Being an unfamiliar and troubling feeling, Renny was wise enough to heed it immediately. He stopped moving, and in fact found a corner of shadow to conceal himself within. Though people usually saw Renny when he was out observing, Renny was also uncannily good at watching while remaining unobserved.

  Renny scanned the various courtyards and entrances, looking up and down the street. There had to be a reason for the feeling to have come upon him so suddenly. He watched the few villagers that came so early to the Temples until his eyes fell on one man. Something told Renny immediately that this man was not from Sanshan. His clothes were different, not in design perhaps, but in quality. They seemed too rich for such a small village. Even the merchants would not have worn that kind of clothing, but it was still a functional set of clothing. Dark, seeming mostly of blues and purples with lots of bla
ck, the suit seemed custom-made, and the materials seemed to be more of silks and carded wool, than the homespun the villagers wore. In fact the clothing very nearly matched the colors Renny could see swirling about the man, almost as if the man was aware of his own colors and got a set of clothes to match. What caught Renny attention about the man though were his hands. Around them, Renny could see what looked like two globes of energy, though they were also nearly black. Renny could only remember seeing something like that around one of the Healers’ hands, but the energy had been green with streaks of blue and gold.

  A shiver shook Renny from shoulder to shoulder. He’d seen red and dark purples and dark browns before around people who were considered bad or troublesome in Sanshan, but never the combination of dark blues, purples and black like this. Renny knew without a doubt that this man was both bad and dangerous. He also knew he did not want this man to notice him.

  Carefully keeping low and out of sight, Renny backed away from Temple Way and made his way back home, forgetting entirely about visiting his Healer friends or the rest of Crafter’s Way. He went into his father’s shop and sat next to the small desk where his father sometimes sketched new ideas. “Good morning, Renny.”

  Renpol was surprised to see his youngest son back so early. It wasn't unusual for Renny, as most called him, to stay at the Healers for mid-day, and stay out until it was time for the family to have the night meal together. The villagers in this section knew both him and his son well and looked after him as best they could, letting Renpol know his son was fine out and about in the village. The Healers and Crafters often reported on Renny's activities, reassuring the cobbler. In a small village like Sanshan, it was easy to look after an inquisitive child. The place was more like a very large family. It was just in the very south that there were some more questionable citizens. Only very early in mornings did Renny visit the shop, and usually left after a few minutes. To be here sitting and watching his father work was unusual. Well, perhaps he wasn't watching. Renpol noticed a look of quiet concern on his younger namesake's face. He was also looking down at his hands, not at the work he was doing.

  “Good morning, Pa.” Renny sat quietly, looking up towards his father now, pretending to be watching what his father was doing.

  Renny was the youngest child and though the elder Renpol would never admit it, Renny was Renpol’s favorite child. His quietness was welcome, as was his obvious intelligence. Though he was only six, Renpol felt his son could very well be his heir in all senses of the word.

  Renpol peered surreptitiously at his youngest son as he continued to polish a newly completed set of shoes. Renny was usually out early in the morning, usually first to Temple Way and then to the Healer’s Court. Renpol wondered again what his son was doing in his shop this morning. It was extremely atypical that he broke his routine.

  Renny noted the scraps of paper and the pencils Renpol had on his desk. He saw the normal leaded pencil with the tip that produced mostly grays, but could reproduce a near black if you pressed hard on it. There was also a blue and a red, which Renpol Senior used less often. “Papa? Could I use a scrap and your pencils?”

  Renpol was surprised at the request, but did not question the boy. Renny rarely asked for anything, even when he had seen other boys playing with toys. Renpol Senior had often tried to give Renny toys, but they were usually abandoned after the first hour or so. Renny liked to watch people, and playing with toys did not allow him to do so. Yet another reason to find it strange that his son was in his shop this morning. Renpol nodded to his son. Paper was expensive, but the scraps he got from the Scrivenor were pretty clean and cheap. He wondered what his son was up to.

  Without really focusing entirely on his son, Renpol kept watching him as he began to stretch and shape the lining for another set of shoes. He would have to use the thick thread to put the pieces together over his form and then attach the thicker outer leather coat with glue. He worked for a few minutes in quiet. The other children were off to their morning classes, which Renny had not yet started. He would begin this Resting Season. The older boys were already helping in the shop in the afternoons and Nella, Renny’s sister, helped her mother with the displays, the accounting and the cooking. It got rather busy and unsettled in the afternoons, so Renpol Senior appreciated his quiet mornings.

  Renny made hardly any sounds. He was concentrating on what appeared to be a drawing. Renpol Senior left the newly begun pair of shoes, and slid next to his son quietly, admiring the work of the young boy. He had no idea that Renny knew how to draw. “That’s an excellent drawing.”

  Renny started, so focused on his design that he’d not noticed his father’s approach. “It’s a man I saw today. Would you know if I could get purple or black?”

  Renpol found the question unusual. That was twice today Renny asked for something. What was going on? “Well, you could use a piece of charcoal for black, but for purple, I’d have to ask the Scrivenor, or you could try mixing the blue and the red.”

  “I did that, but it was looking more like blue with tiny streaks of red than like a real purple.” That was quite true. Renpol had often wished for a true purple himself, and had noted the same effect when he tried to blend the red and blue. Renny was a very astute observer. Renny also looked very serious, intent.

  Renpol wondered if this was not the beginning of a sudden change in his son. Perhaps he wanted to become an artist? Renpol thought that could have its advantages, but they'd have to move to Darbuil for Renny to have any real future as an artist. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He decided to let the matter drop at that, and leaving Renny to his sketch, he returned to the leather he was working, only to find he'd left some of the treating unguent on the leather too long. Ugh. It had been years since he'd made a stupid apprentice mistake like that. The leather would only be fit for a softer design now, not a sturdy shoe. He'd put it away and work it into another project later.

  The rest of the day went on less eventfully, though Renny uncharacteristically stayed near the house. It was not till the older children returned from the morning classes that Renpol thought again about Renny's request.

  Renpol Senior took Renny’s demand seriously, and that very afternoon, he went to see the Scrivenor. “Purple? I don’t get much of a call for that, but I do have one or two extras. It’s expensive because of the pigments though.” Untan had to look through five bins before he found the one he needed. Purple pencils were really not requested much, and he'd actually forgotten where he'd filed them away, though he never forgot what he had in stock.

  “That’s fine, Scrivenor Untan, I’ll just need the one.” Renpol turned the silver coin over as requested. That was far more than it had cost him to get a dozen of the normal lead, six of the blue and another six of the red altogether. Renpol did not mind though because Renny rarely asked for anything.

  That night, Renpol had to explain to his wife the expense. “Renny rarely asks for anything, Bekka. I spend more than that each season on each of his sibs.” It was easy to explain using an entire silver bahn, especially when he made it seem there was no preferential treatment involved for himself or the children. Bekka was fair minded and reasonable.

  That ended the discussion, though Renpol could tell Bekka was not happy. While doing the dishes, she banged the pots together a little more loudly than necessary, and Renpol cringed, knowing he had to do something to defuse her growing frustration with him, even though she had agreed to his reasons for the expense. Otherwise he might have to sleep in the shoe shop tonight. Renpol liked the smell of leather, but not that much. Bekka liked that their savings had been steadily growing. She had plans for their money, some parts of which involved a potential move to a nice house in a larger town or city. As he remembered this, Renpol suddenly realized how he could make Bekka feel better.

  He decided to show Bekka Renny’s drawings later on. She settled down quickly when he explained tha
t maybe they’d move to Darbuil, in support of their son's interest in art. “You think so?” Renpol already had some business in Darbuil, and it was a dream of Bekka’s to someday be established in a larger place. She was of a much better disposition by the time they settled in for the night.