The Serving Boy Asks a Question

"How?"

The serving boy's half uttered question flopped out of his puffy mouth.

The oldman, squinted his eyes lazily at the boy's visage.

The serving boy was tall for his age, and stood eye to eye to where the oldman sat. The boy couldn't be more than two hands old.

"I once knew someone. He almost died reaching this mountain that I speak of. It was a boy... No older than you are now."

The oldman looked up, wistfully, "Indeed. It is the meek such as you. That find inner strength to do what ought to be improbable."

The boy tried to believe what the oldman was saying was true. He wondered if the oldman really knew God's Finger. The oldman retracted into himself, the flamelight made it seem he had disappeared into his robes. The oldman spoke, and the serving boy could hear sorrow and regret in his voice:

"I was his teacher."


next: The Spire