Kosai dreamt, or thought he dreamt, that he was back on the beach. Next to him was the object wrapped in canvas.
How do I destroy it, Kosai thought. The sand around him was wet, and he didn’t have anything to start a fire with. He thought about bashing it with a stick, but thought that to inspect the object first before deciding how to destroy it.
Carefully, he took one corner of the canvas and peeled it away from the object. He rolled out the canvas, leaving a long white trail behind him. When the object rolled out of the canvas, Kosai jumped back and fell. He crawled away from it like a crab. Inside the canvass was an old, bald, naked, dead man. Clumps of fetid flesh were peeled off of the man as the canvas rolled off of him like a thick layer of coagulated milk, leaving gaping holes in the body. Kosai crawled over to the dead man and looked at his pasty white skin. He was not a frail man, but not muscular either. His face, hands, and other parts of his skin were wrinkled like a raisin, but not sagging. He touched the man’s forearm tenderly.
A pink mark was left on the arm that Kosai touched. Slowly, the pink mark grew past the dead man’s shoulder and down his chest. When the pink color covered the man head to foot, the man took a deep breath. Kosai jumped back again. The figure coughed up water and then stood up. He took the canvas and threw it around his shoulders as if he had done it a thousand times.
Waveringly, he shook the sand from his body and walked back to the water. Kosai stood up and rushed towards him and tackled him, pinning him against the beach. The man fought against Kosai, trying to break his grip and punching at his face, neck and stomach. Kosai dodged what blows he could and pinned the man’s throat with his forearm. The man wheezed.
“I guess you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” the man said. Kosai pressed harder into his throat. The man coughed and grabbed Kosai’s arm. “You won’t be able to that way.” He wheezed. Kosai glared at the man. “I have been sitting at the bottom of the ocean for years. Do you think a choke hold is going to kill me?” Kosai released his grip but held onto the man.
“You’re going nowhere near that water, you hear me?” Kosai said. The man nodded. Kosai released his grip and stood.
“I wasn’t going deep into the water anyway. I wanted to wash myself of this wretched sand. It’s everywhere. Besides, I can’t disappear back in there. Now that you have Awoken, I am bound to this island. I am bound to you until you destroy me.”
Kosai watched the man closely as he removed the canvass from his body and wadded into the water, splashing his arms, face, thighs, back and chest. As soon as he finished bathing, he took the canvas from the shore and tossed into the water. He then rolled it up in his arms and walked back to Kosai. Kosai stared at the old naked man holding the canvass, and the man stared back at him.
“You don’t know what to do with me do you?” the man asked. Kosai nodded. “Do you at least know what I am?” Kosai nodded again. “Well?”
“You are the only thing, person, between me and being a full conduit.”
“Yes, yes, that’s all true, but do you know exactly what I am? Who am I? Why was your object me? An old naked man stuck in canvas at the bottom of your sea.”
“I don’t know.”
“Once you figure that out, you will be able to destroy me, but no sooner. You’re to destroy the Dark One. The Seer Saw it. Do you know why you are the only one who can?” Kosai shook his head.
“I’ve been focused on too many other things to find an answer to that question,” Kosai said. That question came to his mind when he first opened the book, but with the compromised trade routes, and the Awakening to go through, and other recent events and developments, the answer was not a high priority.
“Perhaps you should ask the book,” the old man said. Kosai reached for it in his shirt, but realized that he too was naked on the beach. “Quite a treasure that little pocket journal of yours,” the old man said with a smile.
Kosai woke with a start. He was lying on a cot in Mearto’s office. Mearto was sitting in his chair, reading a book. Kosai coughed and Mearto turned to look at him.
“About time you woke up. You have been asleep for three days.” Kosai tried to sit up, but groaned. The room spun violently and his vision blurred. Mearto stood from her chair and held the back of his neck. “Lay down,” she said softly. “It is going to take you a couple more days until you have fully recovered. I will have some soup brought in for you in a moment.” Mearto opened the door. The matron was already standing there. Kosai heard something about broth and turnips, and knew that she was speaking, but couldn’t hear anything more. Mearto closed the door and sat back in the chair.
Kosai closed his eyes and must have fallen back asleep because when he opened them again, Mearto was gently pushing on his shoulder with one hand, and holding a bowl of soup in the other.
“You need to sit up now,” she said. Kosai did, bracing himself on the cot. Mearto then put a spoon filled with chicken broth and a piece of turnip to his lips. “I almost lost you,” she said as Kosai drank sipped the hot soup. “You were dead for a moment and I had to resuscitate you. I broke a few of your ribs in the process and had to heal you shortly after.” Kosai took another sip.
“That was during the whole, you can breathe water bit?” Kosai croaked.
“Yes,” she said. “What is your object?”
“An old bald naked man. He is taller than the Seer, and skinnier too.” Kosai took another sip of soup. “He was dead when I brought him to shore, but now he is alive and knows that I am to destroy him. I think he wants to help me.”
“Was the old man carrying anything?”
“Just the canvass that he was wrapped in.” Mearto fed him another spoonful of soup and then sat the bowl on her desk.
“When the time comes, make sure to destroy the canvas as well. I’ve never heard of two objects before. And how do you know he wants to help you?”
“He said when I find out who he is and why I am the one the Seer Saw kill the Dark One, and then I can become a full conduit.” Mearto handed the soup bowl to Kosai.
“Looks like you better get back to the books again. Do you have any idea on where to start?” Kosai thought of his book. He could still feel it tucked up against his hip in his waistband. He thought back to when he first encountered it and how only his blood could unlock its pages. It was time to get some answers from the book that held practically everything.
“I’ve got a good idea,” Kosai said. He put the bowl of soup to his lips. Mearto put a hand up to stop Kosai and covered her mouth with the other. Kosai drained the bowl before she could say a word.
“I was going to tell you to take small sips,” she said.
“I’m feeling fine,” he said, wiping his mouth with his arm. “I need to find more information about the Dark One. Are there any books on him in the library?”
“I’ll bring a few up to you.”
“I’d rather see all of them at one time,” Kosai said. He knew he needed to read the book that wrote itself, but if Mearto brought up others, and demanded oral reports, he may or may not find all the information he needed. He couldn’t let that hold him back. Kosai needed all the answers about the man on the beach and why he was his object.
“But there are so many other things you need to know. You still need to learn about objects, about communion, which you need to perform daily, and we must begin your real training on being a conduit. Yes, you need to learn how to destroy your object, but time also needs to be spent in other areas.” Kosai lay down on the cot and placed his right arm over his eyes. The room was beginning to spin again and he felt nauseous.
“And you need to rest,” Mearto said. “I can’t teach you in that condition and you won’t be able to give oral reports either.” Kosai groaned, partially in protest, and partially because his stomach felt like it was twisting into a knot.
As Mearto called the matron for a bucket, Kosai thought more about his daily schedule to distract him from the pain in his stomach. He was r
elieved that he would finally be learning things of use, but he felt that most important thing to discover was why he was the one to kill the Dark One. There were other questions rolling in his mind too. He wondered if Mearto knew the other prophesy about him. He wondered who the naked man was on the beach. He also thought about Theo.
The matron gave Mearto a bucket and placed it at Kosai’s feet. A moment later, Kosai vomited into the bucket, bringing back most of the soup he drank.
“You aren’t fine,” Mearto said. “You may be the Wolf of the Capital Barracks, but here, with me, you’re still a pup.” When Kosai was finished, she took the bucket and looked at Kosai. “I will get you another bowl of soup. Remember, small sips. Take today and rest. You have been through a lot. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours.” Kosai nodded and lay back down on the cot. The room stopped spinning.
Mearto returned with another bowl of soup. Wisps of steam curled in the air and then disappeared. Mearto handed the bowl to Kosai and reminded him to take small sips before she left the room. Kosai took his time with his second bowl of soup, and as soon as he was finished, he took the book from his waist and opened it. He licked his finger and pressed it into the pages.
“It has been a while,” the book wrote. “You are now a Conduit and you wish to know more about your object. I can read also that you want to know why you are the only one who can kill the Dark One. That story will take some time to tell.”
“I have all day,” Kosai said.
“I have named the story, ‘The Enlightment and Damnation of Zenith, Second Head Teacher in the School of the Faye’.” The words faded into the page and new words appeared.
CHAPTER 16
The Silver Sheen Chronicle - Emblems of Power Page 16
